Dream

 Just woke up from a dream.

In the dream I was in southern Italy, walking around a small town. I noticed at first that this town had a particular layout, then some familiar spots, and ultimately realized I’d been there before. A market is coming up on the left. There is a church over there. 

The dream actually began with the collapsing of a building. It was unclear if there were survivors. 

Along the way I had different travel companions. At one point it might have been someone I was trying to impress, because I was reading the menu for them and practicing my Italian or Spanish or something. I knew I only wanted chicken and fries (which is much more a Latin America thing).  

At one point my travel companion was very clearly k. We locked up our stuff together at a hostel or bus station, and then later in the dream she left as I continued to wander. It wasn’t until late in the day when I had taken pictures of buildings and art, of churches and the lake, and of people watching, the wedding party, the stylish folks, -and then the sun was setting and I was ready to find a bed or a way out of town - and I realized it was her lock on the locker. I made my way back wondering if I’d even have a backpack to grab… I got more and more anxious. 

When I finally got back to the spot with the lockers people were closing down. It was getting late. I eyed each person suspiciously. I went to the lockers and began opening the ones without locks. Some were empty. Some had small things others had left. And finally in one, I found all of my stuff, but no bag to put it in. 

It made me laugh. I was relieved. After all there was nothing particularly valuable it was just spare clothes and a journal and blah. I stuffed it back in the locker and decided to spend another night in this town I was rediscovering. 

I knew I needed to find a place to stay, and the first obvious idea was to stay at the place with the lockers (which had transformed from a bus station to a hostel). But the staff had already gone home. I wasn’t sure there were beds left, and considered just sleeping on a couch and paying when staff arrived in the morning. 

Another option was to book online, and I was going through the apps trying to connect but my phone kept cutting out right when I was finding the right spots. 

As I was doing this, I eavesdropped on the people around me who were also settling down and sharing about their adventures that day. One girl said she had celebrated Passover and gone to a ritual bath, but it wasn’t clear whether it was for Jewish people or Muslim people. She said it reminded her of her family and she ooozed a feeling of comfort, gratitude, nostalgia… my phone rang and I realized my mom was calling. 

I made the decision to pull away from the girl talking, even though I was intrigued. 

My mom wanted to give me some updates and I figured it was fair to give her mine.  She said something along the lines of -your grandma wants to clean the carpets after the fire. She is nervous that people will see them and think less of her. I remembered there had been a fire. The whole place had collapsed. There was nothing left of the carpet, but I tried to imagine my grandma lifting chunks of the walls to vacuum underneath. My mom threw in a comment that I didn’t quite hear clearly, but seemed to imply so maybe that’s where you get it (anxiety /ocd). 

There was a lull in the convo, so I told her my two big discoveries of the day. 1) I am in a familiar town and enjoying it, even though I didn’t realize and 2) my backpack got stolen in the funniest way possible. 

There was silence again. Ok, well I guess that’s it. Talk to you tomorrow.