A Catholic Pilgrim in Turkey

Our fearless traddie reporter, sojourning in Mohammedan lands, relates the story of an even more fearless Catholic come from France to Turkey, and thence to the Holy Land.

After Mass this Sunday, at the Jesuit chapel located in the old French chancellery in Ankara, I was eager to talk with a young man whom I easily identified as a traditional Catholic - they tend to stand out at most Masses these days, even here in Turkey.

His name is Armel. He is 28 and has 10 brothers and sisters, including one who is a priest in the FSSP and another brother who is considering the priesthood. Early last year in June 2006, Armel resigned his commission as a captain in the French infantry. One month later, in July, he began a pilgrimage on foot from France to Jerusalem. He had spent Christmas in Istanbul and had recently arrived in Ankara. Armel stayed in our home Monday - and departed Ankara Tuesday morning after morning Mass, continuing his journey across the cold winter mountains of eastern Turkey, and then, God willing, into Syria, Lebanon, and finally Palestine.

He travels anywhere from 20 to 30 km per day and relies totally on the providence of God and the charity of strangers for his sustenance. He sleeps wherever the local people will allow him - in gas stations, apartment building basements, or, if need be, abandoned shacks in the middle of nowhere. (The nights in Turkey currently can drop to below -10 C.)

Likewise with food, he relies totally on charity. He asks gas station operators or small local restaurants for bread and water -- almost always the hosts provide him with a complete meal. He passes out Miraculous Medals in payment for the kindness of the local people.

His praying and meditation are obviously intense - but aside from the spiritual contemplation occurring during his long periods of walking in total isolation, he spends 3 to 4 hours a day in prayer during the periods in the morning, midday, and evening when he is not walking.

The most dangerous aspect of his trip is the wild dogs. The back-country of Turkey and the Balkan countries, too, are full of wild dogs. Armel carries a big walking stick with many pointy parts on the end - a stick he cut and honed from his own property in France prior to departing - and a stick made of considerably tough wood since a mere 3 cm has worn off the bottom end after more than six months of walking.

The most afraid he has been is in Turkey, unfortunately. A man in a small village had invited Armel into his home for some food. Surrounded by the host and other Turkish men, a discussion began about religion, and after a while, the Turkish man asked Armel to repeat some words, one after another. After the second or third word, Armel asked what the complete phrase was supposed to be. The man told him the phrase - it was the Muslim profession of faith. At this point Armel told the man that he would not say anymore of this phrase. The man became very angry. The mood in the room became cold and hostile. Armel quickly thanked his host and departed - wondering if he would make it out of the house and village alive.

During the few nights that he was unable to find a heated place to stay during the winter months in Turkey and was forced to sleep in old, abandoned homes or shacks located 1 km or so off the road, he thought of the prospect of freezing to death and that his body might never be found.

Our family felt blessed to have him in our home. Despite what one would imagine to be an exhausted constitution, he played for many hours with our children - and even went for a walk for several hours during the day on Monday! We pray that he arrives safely in Jerusalem.

An amazing story - not unprecedented, of course - but surely a rarity these days! I wonder whether Armel's pilgrimage has received any attention in the French press, or at least in the papers of his home town? God speed, Armel!


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