Dreams and Genetics

It was theororized by a few people I spoke to that my dreams would be very vivid upon traveling to the equator and being at such a high altitude. While living in Baltimore I would occasionally have dreams that were either very real or almost linear enough to be a story.

Last night I experienced the latter. It was a dream so details are a bit fuzzy and therefore I will just mention that for one I sang in my dream. None of my friends have heard me sing unless they heard me over the loud music I would play in car to drown myself out. But in the dream I sang with another man the words to a Billy Holiday song. I wasn't great in the dream but I was better than I would have been in real life.

In jumping to the next, more coherent scene of my dream story, I will tell the abbreviated tale of my roommate. We lived in a Victorian house for which I did not know the address. My roommate was a very troubled girl who had a crush on one of my female friends. She somehow was involved in some tragedy which is a bit disturbing and nonsensical to include. Nonetheless her mother came to my house and I thought they were fighting so I borrowed my roommate's phone and called 911. But I hung up instantly because I realized they were just playing. Her room was extremely messy... more messy than my room ever was when I was a child. Trust me... that is really messy.


A part of the dream that mirrored reality was that I was without a cell phone. I think by now everyone has a cell phone. I haven't missed it... at least not consciously. But in my dream it was annoying and disconcerting that I didn't have one and I worried that my roommate's demise would be the result.

The next scene turns to a large room on the top floor of our Victorian house. Inside that room is a sewing machine and many materials. I may have to fill in the strange fuzzy parts of this dream and make it into a story so I am not going to relay anymore of it here.

But I miss sewing, although I haven't realized it till I dreamed about a large room with many possibilities for creative inspiration. I want in real life to turn all my creative energy towards my writing. Another side in my dream told the tale of my attempt to finish some projects I had abandoned in the past. In the dream, I was on the floor, finally completing an art project that I started awhile ago, while my art teacher, who I think was originally my roommate's mother, was overseeing. She was glad to see that I was putting together the grotesque and messy sculpture from grade school. I showed it to my family and I think it was my brother Alex who commented on it. I think it was a favorable comment. That is vague.

Forgive the randomness of this entry but my dream still lingers and I still have thoughts I want to express.

Did I mention that I don't feel short here? Relatively speaking, I am not short among Ecuadorians. I always thought my shortness had to do with my thyroid deficiency, but it is in fact genetic. I am sure of that now.

I also miss micro-brewed beer, which is next to impossible to get here, at least at the bar. Last night at the Reina Victoria Pub, while playing a quiz game with members of the South American Explorers club, I drank Corona (with a lime of course). I am not fond of the national beer here: Pilsener. I miss Dogfish Head, Lagunitas, Stone IPA. But Corona worked... for now.

The things I miss are so small compared to the insights I keep having. A cliché, but I know it is just the beginning. Brian and I have been planning the rest our trip. At least the parts in between the bigger parts. After the cloud forest we will be staying in or around Parque Nacional Cotopaxi. Then off to Latacunga and Riobamba. After that Guayaquil, Cuenca, Loja, and Vilcabamba. And what we didn't get to this time around, we will see when we come back around at the end of our trip. Hopefully.