A Landmark – 18 March 2013
This time, I thought I’d blog about a landmark dream I had last night.
A few days ago we had a ton of new people move into I-House, so naturally it stood to reason that we’d throw them a welcome party. And naturally it stood to reason that we’d have a few alcoholic beverages to go around. It was a good time, really.
But then it was time to go to sleep.
It began with me standing on a street corner, next to a supertall Japanese guy who was trying to speak to me in Japanese. It was all in gibberish; i.e., I heard a string of syllables coming at me, but I couldn’t discern them into any words I was able to recognize. I’ve been studying the language for a couple of years now, and I have a grasp of elementary Japanese, so it stands to reason that I would have understood something.
(This was, however, the first time I can recall having dreamed in anything close to Japanese, and this is what makes it landmark.)
I guess he gave up on trying to get through to me, because there were two other guys who seemed to get whatever it was he was trying to lay down. I watched their exchange for a while but when I tried to leave the supertall Japanese guy grabbed my arm and arrested my flight, but he refused to speak directly to me again. When I tried to leave again, he stuck his hands into my empty pockets.
It was really, really weird.
Then I remember walking along some train tracks, with someone trudging along behind me. There was nothing around, just some tall buildings in the distance. Then a train crawled past. It was silver and dilapidated, rusty and wrecked. The roof of the frontmost car had caved in, and the conductor (again Japanese) had his arm in a sling, and waved as he slipped by. Of course, me being a gentleman even while unconscious, waved back. Each car had the word “player” graffitoed on it, in exactly the same way.
That was pretty strange, too.
Then I was in a dorm of some kind, talking to some other friends (in English) when some guy from across the room begins arguing with me. We send a few words back and forth, and eventually he leaves with a group to go out drinking. I’m still pissed, and I decide to head out for a walk. When I decide to head home I find a subway station, and it’s completely dark inside except for neon strips along the floor and brightly-lit ads and signs along the walls. I get to the turnstiles but don’t have a ticket, so I have to hoof it home.
I come out onto a busy street and notice there are two bridges at either end of the street. I walk toward the one on the left but don’t recognize any of the landmarks. I head toward the other one, and suddenly I’m back on the corner where I met the supertall Japanese guy with the gropey hands and the abandonment issues.
And then I woke up.
I suppose that this means that my brain is trying to reason out the Japanese that I’ve been stuffing into it for the last six months. Could it be a by-product of my environment? Of course it could. Could it have something to do with the alcohol I drank before I went to bed? I can’t count it out. But certainly it’s progress, of one kind or another. And I’m lovin’ it. I feel like I can keep going even when I look foolish stumbling through a conversation, or feel discouraged in class.
This dream will definitely get me through this upcoming semester. And maybe the next landmark will be real Japanese.