coldhearted scientist وداد

If I am awakened from really deep sleep, the dreams that are interrupted are different, slower, and more mythical than the ones I have in the morning, when I am in the process of waking up anyway. Here is a recent dream that I have actually had several times — for all I know, I dream it every night.

I am in Salvador, Bahia, Brazil. The city is as it was in the old days, but moreso; the tropical pinks are even more intense. The old neighborhood of the Carmo is now located on an island like Mont Saint-Michel in France; you can walk out to it on a narrow land bridge. I do this at sunset and I am amazed at how different and African it is, compared to S. Paulo where I have traveled from.

Last night this dream had a second part, that I was sure I had dreamed before as well: we decide to go to Peru, to the tropical Alps. We are several people but one is a pale, blond, blue-eyed girl, someone with that Prussian look you can find in Paraná and Rio Grande do Sul. There in a valley is mossy, primordial mud, and we dive in to see what is inside. Only our feet are sticking out.

When awakening from this kind of dream, I sometimes have difficulty locating myself; it seems that when I sleep I think I am in the house I grew up in.

I woke the other day to women’s voices in another room, talking about something practical; I was convinced it was my mother and some other P.T.A. mothers from my elementary school, having a committee meeting.

Do you ever have experiences like these? What is the Brazilian and Peruvian dream about? Do we always think we are children when sleeping?

Axé.