Why do you walk? On Thursday, Oct. 27, politics major Ellis Boettger ’17 shared why he walked (and rode) over 800 kilometers in 28 days to Santiago de Compostela, on “El Camino de Santiago” as part of Hispanic Heritage Month.

El Camino refers to the pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela, where the relics of Saint James lay in Galicia, an autonomous region in the northwest corner of Spain. This past May, Ellis took the semester off to complete El Camino, making sure he brought his unicycle with him. He wanted to “make it his own journey.”

Ellis began on April 28, but the seed was planted long before that. He explains, “I’ve been taking Spanish since fourth grade. Every year, we always talked about cultural places, and I learned about El Camino de Santiago. It was something that was re-talked about each year. There was always something in my head that said, ‘You know what? I am going to have to do this one day.’ I didn’t know when I was going to do it, but once I had the opportunity, I jumped on it.”

When Ellis departed for El Camino at Saint Jean Pied de Port, France, he left with three things: his pilgrim’s passport, la concha or the shell of a sea scallop, and a hug from the woman at the pilgrim’s office.

Ellis always saw El Camino as an “introspective journey.” He learned to be present to others, disconnecting from technology, and contacting family and friends from home only every four or five days. Though he wanted to complete this journey alone, Ellis made many human connections along the way, each person he met “on his or her own journey.” He met Italians, Africans, gypsies, Germans, Canadians, and people of all cultures both on “the way” and in public alburques, residences designated for pilgrims of El Camino.

At the end of his journey, Ellis expected to feel satisfied and fulfilled. He had made it. 28 days later, he completed El Camino on a unicycle; Ellis had crossed the Pyrenees, cooked chorizo potato stew for a local padre, and survived. On his own.

However, he did not achieve this satisfaction immediately. He travelled from Santiago de Compostela to the coast of Finisterra, the “End of the Earth.” Here, many pilgrims consider it the end of their journey: some scatter ashes of loved ones while some burn their shoes.

Sick with clinic tonsillitis, Ellis stood alone.

“I saw the ocean in front of me and thought, ‘Finally, I’m done,’” says Ellis. “But I did not find what I wanted to find when I was there. It was only after self-reflection afterward that I really realized that there was something inside me that was changed.”

Ellis is only one of many other “modern pilgrims” who call Saint Anselm home.

Elizabeth Fouts, associate professor of Spanish, walked El Camino with her husband in 1993 during what is called a “holy year,” when St. James’ birthday (July 25) falls on Sunday.  Fouts explains, “There is a tradition that if you do the camino during an ‘año jacobeo’ and end in the city of Santiago on his birthday, your blessings will be greater, so that is what we did.”

Fouts describes El Camino as “one of the most exciting experiences of [her] life and one that has in no way been diluted by the years that have passed.” On the journey, she grew physically, spiritually, and emotionally, being a pilgrim for six weeks while experiencing the history, architecture, geography, and food of Spain.

Although the pilgrimage was very internal, Fouts explains that the friendships she made on the way made the journey even more special.

“We were fortunate to meet many, many people along the way and some of those friendships are still alive,” she said. “My husband and I still have our backpacks put away, in the hopes that another año santo will come along and we can go again.”

Associate Professor of Spanish Lourdes Jimenez has completed El Camino twice (so far). The first time, she heard the call while writing her sabbatical proposal.

She says, “I was in front of the computer, when it came to me . . . like that: I need to walk El Camino alone. My husband, friends, colleagues were all surprised, except my mother. When I was 12 years old, my mother walked 22 miles in order to pay a promise to the Virgin Mary. My grandmother was very ill. I walked with her the last few miles, but when I arrived to the chapel, my mother says that I clearly said, ‘I’ll keep walking to Santiago!’”

And she did. Jimenez has walked two different routes: the French Way and the Primitive Way. “The most interesting thing,” says Jimenez, “is the people in tiny towns asking me to bring or offer a prayer on their behalf.  I was very surprised that they entrusted me with something so personal, a prayer.”

Just two years ago, biology major Teresa Samson ’17 ventured to Europe for two weeks with her mother, alumna Marion (Conner) Samson ’84, to follow Mary’s apparitions in Lourdes, Fátima, and parts of Spain.

Teresa explains that she was motivated to go, because she was interested in seeing God in different parts of the world: “Having attended a private high school, I knew that I had a narrow understanding of God and how He becomes visible to humans. This trip enabled me to start to find out how others came to know Him, and why we believe what we believe about Him.”

On the pilgrimage, Teresa and her mother were accompanied by forty pilgrims, including theologian Scott Hahn. He provided them with interesting, profound insights regarding Mary, her relationship to human beings, and the relevance of these apparitions today.

At Lourdes, Teresa led the rosary on the Feast of the Visitation. “There were thousands of people in the crowd, speaking so many different languages,” she says.

“Militaries from different nations also were taking a pilgrimage here at this time, and I was standing up there with them as the only one not in uniform. It was exhilarating, but also terrifying, because nobody up on the stage spoke the same language.”

After she returned, Teresa learned that experiences don’t always have to be emotional to be meaningful, “A few weeks after the trip ended, I started to feel whatever ‘it’ was. I noticed change in my life: I grew more confident in myself and my beliefs, and I wasn’t afraid to integrate them into my life, even at the risk of being judged or ridiculed.”

And this journey never ends. For these four Anselmians, it was not just the physical destination that brought them fulfillment. Instead, it was the inward growth they reached in reflection. They remain pilgrims each day, listening with the “ear[s] of [their] heart[s],” trying to live each day with purpose.