Bahamas
Four people - two former students and two former colleagues - and I were supposed to be in Bahamas. In this dream I went to Bahamas as an exchange student at the University of Bahamas. Does this university ever exist? Like in any dream, I was not surprised or excited to see these four people meeting me at the bus station (not air port; not sea port). I don’t know how I got there in the first place. The place indeed looked like a bus station with baked mud for its flooring and makeshift canopy-like, corroding metal roof. The station, I suppose, could accommodate two or three fifty-sitters only. I didn’t see any bus though. There were busy people in the area – passersby, street food peddlers, a few passengers in waiting, an old woman sleeping on her seat while tending newspapers, and half-naked kids frolicking. I’m not sure if they were locals of Bahamas. For me, they looked like Jamaicans. My former students and former colleagues, who looked like they had already settled in place for quite a while, greeted and welcomed me so mechanically that I had the feeling they didn’t want me there. Their eyes locked menacingly afterwards; this looked like a cue for one of my former students to offer to help me with my only luggage, which was as heavy as the stare these four people would cast on me from the time they had seen me. The locals were indifferent; business as usual.
They took me to one-floor apartment and introduced me to the landlady: a bespectacled big woman who reminded me of Odette Khan; her skin was grayish black; her Elizabeth Ramsey-like hair was a crown of gray and charcoal black. She spoke good English with a heavy accent. She showed me my room. She didn’t mention rent. After she had toured me to all parts of the apartment, she whispered something on one of my colleagues, they made a high five, and off she went on a bicycle. It was weird she zoomed her way on a soft sand road until she disappeared very shortly.
Now, I was alone. A while ago my only baggage was a luggage. I didn’t notice one of my former students took it inside the apartment. On the circular table, however, rest my backpack. I didn’t have this at the bus station. I took the backpack and peeked on what’s inside: my TOR, a letter of invitation, University of Bahamas catalogue, a towel and a small transparent bag which contained soap and shampoo. No passport! The transparent bag prompted me to take a shower. After all, I had an icky feeling all over my body after the long walk from the bus station to the apartment.
Still alone inside the shower room… The water escaping from the shower was cold and tasted salt. I couldn’t open my eyes when the combination of sea water and soap stained my eyes. Yes, in this dream, the soap actually formed suds with salt water. The pain made me urinate. I had tried to locate the knob blindly to turn off the water to no avail. After many tries, I finally succeeded. I opened my eyes to find out that the water that accumulated inside the shower room was already knee deep. I opened the door and found out the whole apartment was also flooded but with clear water. I noticed somebody in the apartment unplugging the refrigerator. It was the landlady. She faced me and told me: “Always unplug the refrigerator before you take the shower.”
It was then that I noticed that there was only one appliance in the apartment – the refrigerator. The flood had started to subside after the landlady unplugged the refrigerator. When all the water had dried up, I realized I was standing on sand. The apartment had no concrete flooring. Maybe the flood water had washed away the concrete leaving the sand. I was already awake when I realized this.
{April 27, 2009}
They took me to one-floor apartment and introduced me to the landlady: a bespectacled big woman who reminded me of Odette Khan; her skin was grayish black; her Elizabeth Ramsey-like hair was a crown of gray and charcoal black. She spoke good English with a heavy accent. She showed me my room. She didn’t mention rent. After she had toured me to all parts of the apartment, she whispered something on one of my colleagues, they made a high five, and off she went on a bicycle. It was weird she zoomed her way on a soft sand road until she disappeared very shortly.
Now, I was alone. A while ago my only baggage was a luggage. I didn’t notice one of my former students took it inside the apartment. On the circular table, however, rest my backpack. I didn’t have this at the bus station. I took the backpack and peeked on what’s inside: my TOR, a letter of invitation, University of Bahamas catalogue, a towel and a small transparent bag which contained soap and shampoo. No passport! The transparent bag prompted me to take a shower. After all, I had an icky feeling all over my body after the long walk from the bus station to the apartment.
Still alone inside the shower room… The water escaping from the shower was cold and tasted salt. I couldn’t open my eyes when the combination of sea water and soap stained my eyes. Yes, in this dream, the soap actually formed suds with salt water. The pain made me urinate. I had tried to locate the knob blindly to turn off the water to no avail. After many tries, I finally succeeded. I opened my eyes to find out that the water that accumulated inside the shower room was already knee deep. I opened the door and found out the whole apartment was also flooded but with clear water. I noticed somebody in the apartment unplugging the refrigerator. It was the landlady. She faced me and told me: “Always unplug the refrigerator before you take the shower.”
It was then that I noticed that there was only one appliance in the apartment – the refrigerator. The flood had started to subside after the landlady unplugged the refrigerator. When all the water had dried up, I realized I was standing on sand. The apartment had no concrete flooring. Maybe the flood water had washed away the concrete leaving the sand. I was already awake when I realized this.
{April 27, 2009}
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