Boxes

The other day I dreamt that I choked a rooster to death with my bare hand.

““ Reverse” “Racism”” ??
All the quotations aren´t just to be funny. But partially.

The other day I was asking some girls at the school who would be willing to have a Canadian girl accoompany them during a normal day of classes, work , and socializing. Some were excited. Soon they began to ask for thin ones, tall ones, blond ones, pretty ones, beautiful ones. I told them I didn´t have control over that. Ok, so that´s not racism, but it is definitely a box taped down by ignorance and ideas about white women shaped by TV… though probably not many would have TV´s at home… not sure. I didn´t really mind because they are quite young and their ignorance is sort of understandable. On the other hand, it would sort of be like the Canadian girls asking for ¨really short ones¨or ¨ones with gold stars on their teeth and can´t stop smiling¨ "I want one who wears traditional dress" "I want one who carries baskets on her head." When you don´t know, but have only seen; when you haven´t communicated, but have only dreamt, these people for all that we have decided to respect and love are still just dolls in the theater of our imagination.


And I am not sure that there is a lot to do about that.

Jordan

ps. despite what this post might idicate it is a beautiful day topping off a fun week and here in Guatemala I am everyday realizing that it is going to be difficult to leave.

pps. sorry I have spelled cynicism wrong... as if anybody would even know in these days of ¨spellcheck¨and other cheap cheats... hahaha

An Awesome Dream

There is a lot to write about, including a 5 day trip to San Marcos Guatemala with young people from around guatemala and El Salvador to learn about environmental preservation. I have also been planning for a while a post on daily life here, but I´ve already written this, so I am going to share it.

I think I´ve always been a fairlyvivid dreamer and better than most at remembering them. I got particularlygood in collge with my roomate Alex, where we always told each other immediatly about dreams. Here is a very funny and interesting dream I had recently.

My family and I and... Barack Obama... ar eating dinner out in the Kansas countryside at a verynice, down-home style restaurant. Before gioin in I talked toa scruffy 30ish man standing by his blue ford pickup about what was good, he highlyrecomended the ¨corbet¨... whatever that is. Sounds like a Sorbet, but with a C. The place turns outto eb a buffet but withtheadded touchthat handsome male waiters in nice white suites asked youwhat you want and then they get it for youfrom the buffet line (a new revolution in American dining? I dreamt it first!) I ordered teh corbet, only afterwards remembering that I don´t know what that is... good thing it´s a buffet.

Anyways teh drea jumps to after themeal standing outsidetherestaurant whichlooks like a larege white house (old). Italk to Barck Obama and feel like an idiot/jerk even as I ask him aboutthos white supremecists who watned to killhim. NOw, my dream shifts for a little bit to us now being actors in a television show that looks and feelsl like smallvile (the young supermanshow that has been on TV at myhouse recently). I am sitting inthe back of on old pickup truck enjoyingth fresh air and win in my face and marveling at how exactly like Barack Obama our actor Barack Obama looks. Along with me and barck is a ccomplementary blond and good looking (hey, it´s TV) actress. The scene is on. Now in my dream I am not acting any more, but watching the television show, of which I am a part, but that I somehow don´t know what´s going to happen, as if I was not a part of producing it.

Scene of television show I watch on TV in my dream: The three of us sitting in theback of the truck. Obama starts to become concerned withis hand, but he doesn´t say aything about it. The trhree of us continue to enjoy the sceneryand i think some random things happen to distract us as the camaras continue to show Obama uietly growing more and more concerend withhis hand. Fuinally he tells me andthe prettyblond girl something goin on and his ahnd feels funny. He rolls uphis sleave andwe look at it. It is mostly invisible, but it is just opaque enough (the frafics, by the way, are B movie quality) but it looks like this invisible thing in the shape of his hand is being painfully extracted from obama´s physical body through his hand.

Obama suddely realizaes what is going on, he looks up dramitacally, a stron ghing of worry invades his usual cool that everybody likes to talk about, his voice states dramatically,

¨I´m losing my Martin Luther King¨ that his, in this show, his superpower.
commercial.

Then, still dreaming, I laugh about the show and how stupid/rediculous that was and yet find the idea really hilarious. who thought of that!

That´s the end of the dream, I gues we´ll never know what happens.

First of all, I want to state, that while I think it is extremely cool that we have a black president, I in know way consider his blackness to be his singular quality, or that he gets superpowers from it.

Ilove all tehlayers of reality. Dreaming that I am in a TV show. Thenwatching tthe TV show thenmaking fun of the TV show that my asleep mind made up.A prettyblond girl who only exists in a fake television show in my dream. My dreamself has the audacity to make fun of a television show, never realizing that I myself will later make fun of my dreamself for not realizing that what he was making fun of was actually a fake TV show which I made up, or that he doesn´t really exist outside of MY DREAM.

Thisof course makes me wonder....

the old, what if I am dreaming, or what if I am only being dreamt (like the blond girl). In which case, who is doing the dreaing?

well, anyways, that is a very fun dream that gets me to thinking... hope you enjoyed it and I would appreciate any far out interpretations of my dream. not that theyhave to be far out.

Jordan