I stroll through the big city like I have strolled through so many other big cities in this world, and I see the same scenes: a man walking and talking on his cell phone, a boy running to catch the bus, a mother pushing a pram, a young couple kissing in a park, kids playing football in a vacant lot, churches, traffic lights, billboards. I stand waiting with a group of people to cross the street, glance at the monuments that always show great men deep in thought, bearing the world on their shoulders.
I stroll through the big city where I do not speak the language, but what difference does that make? In big cities, nobody talks to anybody – everybody is so immersed in their problems, always in a hurry. And if they are sitting in the square, or waiting for the bus, anyone who approaches is seen as a threat. Strangers are suspect, we are taught that since we are children, and we remember that for the rest of our lives. No matter how miserable or lonely they are, however much they need to share the joy of a victory or some suffocating sadness, it is better and safer to remain silent.
Even so, I go up to someone: we do not speak a common language. I try a second person, then a third, until a man – in a hurry, like all the others – answers the question I want to ask, the answer to which I can almost always guess:
“Who is this street named after?”
“I haven’t the least idea. Are you lost?”
I explain that I know where my hotel is and thank him. In most of the streets in my home town I would give the same answer: I do not know the person to whom the homage is paid. The glory of the world is transitory, as Paul said in one of his epistles.
I stroll through the city, which is more than ten thousand kilometers from my apartment, but whose only difference is the view of the sea. In everything else, both cities resemble one another, and I wonder what I have been doing for nearly two months away from home. I decided to celebrate the twentieth anniversary of my pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela with a 90-day trip, traveling in whatever direction the wind carried me, accepting some professional engagements because that would protect me from the temptation that at this very moment seizes me with tremendous power: to go home. Have I made the wrong decision, have I been too radical? I make my way back to the hotel, once more I will pack my bags, say goodbye again to my friends, go through all the security controls at the airport, and move on to another big city where practically the same things await me.
I go into my room, turn on the computer and visit the blog that I created for this trip. My readers send their comments, and one of them seems to have guessed what I have been feeling today, because he tells the following story:
“Once upon a time there was a poor but very brave man called Ali. He worked for Ammar, a rich old merchant. One winter’s night Ammar said: “nobody can spend a night like this on top of the mountain without a blanket or food. But you need money, and if you can manage to do that you will receive a great reward. If you don’t, you will work for thirty days without pay”. Ali answered: “tomorrow I shall do this test”. But when he left the shop, he saw that a really icy wind was blowing and became scared, so he decided to ask his best friend, Aydi, if it was crazy of him to accept that bet. After reflecting a while, Aydi answered: “I shall help you. Tomorrow, when you are at the top of the mountain, look ahead. I will be on the top of the mountain next to yours, where I will spend the whole night with a bonfire lit for you. You look at the fire and think about our friendship – that will keep you warm. You will manage, and later on I shall ask you something in return.” Ali won the test, got the money, and went to his friend’s house: “You told me you wanted some payment.” Aydi grabbed him by the shoulders: ”Yes, but it isn’t money. Promise that if at any time a cold wind passes through my life, you will light the fire of friendship for me.”
The reader ends his comment on the blog: “wherever you may be at this moment, thanks for having paid us a visit. When you decide to come back to our country, the fire of friendship will always be lit for you”.
And although the loneliness of the journey is still here in my soul, now I understand better what I am doing here.
The next text will be posted on the 15th of May.
P.S: Dear reader,
During this journey, that is filling my soul with very interesting experiences, one of the most magical moments comes every night when I read the comments posted on this blog. Even though I can’t answer all of you, I want you to know that it’s very important to me to know that I’m not alone on this path. Thank you so much for your support and for the words and ideas that are now engraved on my heart.
Paulo Coelho
Dear Paulo,
I just wanted to say thank you!
Hi Paulo ,
As i am 25 year with lot of question in mind and U r 60 year old with solution for almost every question then also i started with Paulo . Because when i read your books , i felt u r my best friend so i called U by your name directly instead of saying ‘Dear Sir / Respected Sir’ .
I started reading your books , not because your are great, nation changing writer but for increasing my english vocabulary (I am from small villeage of India named ‘Wadala Bahiroba from ahmednager district in Maharashtra state’). As i started reading your books , i felt that you are writing very simialar to Vivekanand (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Swami_Vivekananda) And OSHO(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rajneesh)which are my problem solver friend’s.
I write above , just to say Thank You .
[quote comment="1325"]Dear Paolo Coelho.. You have a blog! I’m eightteen years old and I live in a cold dark little place up in north, Kalix, Sweden. From now until january/february it’s black outside 20 hours a day. And I won’t see the sun until mars. Your amazing books help me to survive the winter! They give me inspiration to travel and learn to know the soul of the world! I’m finish with school now in june 2008, then I don’t know what to do! I really look up to You Paolo, and I understand if You have a lot of replies to answer, but I have one question.. If You were eightteen years old.. and didn’t have any obligations, what would You do with Your life? Thankyou for taking Your time, I would be so happy if You answered but just to know that You, Paolo Coelho! my favorite author! is reading something written by me.. that’s amazing! Thank You, for giving me and the world all these wonderful words in Your books!
Hälsningar (=greetings in swedish), Linnéa[/quote]
Dear Linnea
even if it is cold and dark, you live in a wonderful country. Please try to get the best the night can offer
love
Paulo
Dear Paolo Coelho.. You have a blog! I’m eightteen years old and I live in a cold dark little place up in north, Kalix, Sweden. From now until january/february it’s black outside 20 hours a day. And I won’t see the sun until mars. Your amazing books help me to survive the winter! They give me inspiration to travel and learn to know the soul of the world! I’m finish with school now in june 2008, then I don’t know what to do! I really look up to You Paolo, and I understand if You have a lot of replies to answer, but I have one question.. If You were eightteen years old.. and didn’t have any obligations, what would You do with Your life? Thankyou for taking Your time, I would be so happy if You answered but just to know that You, Paolo Coelho! my favorite author! is reading something written by me.. that’s amazing! Thank You, for giving me and the world all these wonderful words in Your books!
Hälsningar (=greetings in swedish), Linnéa
[quote comment="218"]Growing up in one of the big cities of Europe , and then spending the next fifteen years in one of the remotest villages of Africa has taught me the difference between solitude and companionship. It is indeed strange that when we are alone we seek the company of others, and when we have people around us we dream of a peaceful existence where nobody interferes with our lives.In this tiny village of South Africa everybody knows everybody’s business. It’s not such a bad thing, really. It’s just that a simple trip to the bank or the local post office may take hours to complete, because of all the people you have to greet and discuss the weather with…The first few years have been more difficult, because I had to answer the same question ,over and over again, and every time I met someone (like the local hardware owner, or the pharmacist, or the vet), the question always was:”where do you come from?”. Having a rather unusual accent, but being able to learn fast the three predominant local languages, zulu, english, and some afrikaans, things changed a little…people wanted to know not only who I was, but also how come I managed to understand them so well although I had only been here for a short while? The answer to that is simple: when you feel isolated and lonely, you reach out to people. I was so desperate to communicate with others, that I managed to learn a lesson that all my years in school couldn’t teach me: anything is possible if you really make an effort. I did make the effort, and now I belong. I am part of this community and sometimes I speak of this village as if it were my birthplace.
In contrast with the big city, if you visit my village, nobody will know who you are, but almost everyone will greet you. They’ll give you directions to the nearest african craft shop, even if you don’t ask, and especially if you’re dressed like a traveller and you carry a camera and a fancy cellphone strapped to your backpack. The main road is full of people dressed in colourful clothes- they are the fruit sellers- and it is so crowded on saturdays that you cannot just drive through;this has its advantages, and that is, if you drive really slowly, you can actually do your shopping while sitting in the car, because bananas, and oranges, and african potatoes, even zulu medicine from traditional healers, whatever you may think of, is offered to you through the window of your car…so if you’re lonely, take a trip down town and you’ll see lots of people;afterwards you may take retreat on your sunny verandah and sip your tea while you read one of Paulo Coelho’s books and meditate about the meaning of life.
Dear Pilgrim,
thank you for sharing your thoughts and experiences with us all. Your last entry has reminded me of what life in the city is like. I am most fortunate to wake up every morning to the sound of wild birds. At night all I hear is the song of nightjars and the crickets…It is so peaceful, so tranquil.
I bid you and your lovely wife a good night and will think of you both, as I follow you on your wonderful journey. May you find love and warmth everywhere you go. May you be safe, always.
Gabriela (not Ilala !)[/quote]
Gabriela,
I’m curious. Where is this villiage of yours? I also live in South Africa, but in a city and nowhere I’ve been is like the way you’ve described. I would so so so much like to go there, seeing that one does not always have the time and money to travel the world. At least then, I can travel this beautiful country of ours and see the amazing places it has to offer.
Kind Regards
Mr. Coelho,
I understand you are on a trip now, do you consider going to Southeast Asia?
I’m sort of reading your blog backwards
The story your reader sent you was beautiful.
~katrina
Dear Paulo,
I am an ardent reader of your books and whatever you pen.It has always been an experience to walk alongwith you through your words,no matter wherever you are. The words of wisdom and the pure human emotions which you narrate in the Warrior of light is really inspiring and thought provoking. I will be with you along this journey through this blog.
Good Luck and kind regards.
Shaji.
I think about life like a traveling. For me the purpose of this traveling is to collect moments – the moments when we are happy, beloved and when we feel painful necessity to give love. These flashes are like fuel for our successful journey to next station but they also give us a possibility to find the way back home easier.
I admire you extremely much about the way you open widely your soul to the readers and also for accepting the high price of these friendship with all of us.
The fire of friendship will always be lit for you.
Dear Paulo
In my first post I asked you if it is really necessary to reach out when you feel sad. I understand now that when you feel inspired to do so, it is better to take a risk, rather than embrace your loneliness. The alchemy of love brings people together, and the burdens we bear become lighter. This morning I woke up with a lighter feeling in my heart. The clouds of the last few days have given way to the warm sunshine. The sparrows play their games, joyously chasing each other to and fro.
Thanks to you I have a new friend in South Africa. And although we may never be in contact again after your pilgrimage, I know I’ll never lose her (although I do hope to find a way to contact her personally without having to post my email address. I’d appreciate some help with this). This service to others, favoring this exchange between your dedicated readers may be one of the particularly significant aspects of your pilgrimage. It certainly has made it more significant to me.