Saving my soul in the Catholic Mecca

Man, this post is going to be long. I really need to get on these.

A while ago our group toured the north coast of Galicia, the province of Spain where I'm living (ask anyone here, though, and it is the "Autonomous Community of Galicia". They have their own language and culture and don't like being lumped in with the uberneo-cons from Madrid much). One of the things I remember the best was how incredibly green everything was, like Oregon on steriods. We first went to San Andreas de Texiedo, where the Apostle Andrew (Andreas) is buried. The people of Galicia are tradicionally superstitous, and this cite is a perfect example of it. Mar, our program director and a native Galician, told us about the attidude here about witches and other supernatural goings-on: "Crees en brujas?," pregunta un hombre. "No, no creo, pero existen," responde la mujer (for all the monolinguals:"Do you believe in witches? No, I don't believe in them, but they exist").

Anyway, so after winding through these tiny country roads and stopping in a few quiant country towns we arrived at San Andreas' town. It is no wonder the Romans thought they were at the end of the earth when they showed up a few thousand years ago. The land literally stops. Galicia is home to the highest cliffs in Europe, and Saint Andrew is buried right at the top of one of them. There is an incredible view of the sea, and the town is surrounded by farmland separated by criss-crossing hedgerows. There are cows all over, making it necessary to be very careful when you walked off the paths. We also had to be careful not to step on any bugs or frogs because the could be the souls of catholics that never came to San Andreas. I'll explain:

So although both the Apostles James (Santiago) and Andrew are buried here, Santiago got an incredible gothic cathedral that pilgrims from all over the world visit while Andreas is buried in a little chapel at the end of the world. Andrew is undestandibly a little pissed, and God agrees, so He makes it a rule that all good Catholics have to make a pilgrimage to San Andreas' tomb too, otherwise they will return as "bichos" (little creatures, like bugs or frogs). Therefore, the town is known as the Catholic "Mecca", as all good catholics are obliged to travel there once in their lives. Thus, my mortal soul is saved. Thank you, KU Office of Study Abroad!

We spent the rest of the day in two other typical Galician towns. Lunch: baguette with freshly sliced cheese, freshly picked apple, and a bottle of red wine. On the beach. Dinner: Cervesa and a cigar on the main plaza of some medieval city. Things could have been worse I guess.

Since then I have also been to Barcalona, but that kind of rediculosity requires a lot of energy to describe, and I am very tired. Hasta Luego.