Dreams

I just awoke from the strangest dream.

I was a teacher at a high school in Japan (how do I think of this stuff?!?!), and there was a scandal involving a girl on the dance team wearing a low-cut tank top. It wasn't even that bad, but I think her bra-strap was showing during a dance number, and eyebrows were raised. In the dream, I had nothing to do with the dance team at all, but the girl came to me for help after being accosted by parents, teachers, and the Japanese media. She was looking for solace from a foreigner I suppose, someone who would understand that a little bra-strap sighting wasn't the end of the world. Well, the parents and teachers found out she came to me, and the blame was turned. It turned into this crazy Japan vs. America thing, complete with a visit to my school office from two Japanese military officials in full uniform. One of them ate my lunch (it was a seemingly delicious mushroom pasta, warm, ready to be eaten on my desk).

I was informed that some wanted me dead. Clearly, I had polluted the young mind of a dancer and subsequently a nation... that kind of thing just doesn't fly. My fate would be decided in a few days... by a DODGEBALL game. No kidding. The weird thing (as if there was only one weird thing) was that it wasn't quite dodgeball. First, the giant ball was pitched like a baseball to the hitter, who then caught it and whacked it as far as he could. Come to think of it, it was more like kickball. Anyway, a whole crew of Americans and other random foreigners rallied for my cause and came to play on my team. There was one especially enthusiastic Brunette who insisted on playing with his shirt off, and tried to lead the foreign crowd in chants like, "Don't buy Japanese cars! Don't buy Japanese cars!" None of them very catchy or successful.

The other strange thing about the whole feeling of the dream was my apathy. Here I was, being potentially sentenced to death by the results of a dodgeball (kickball?) game for corrupting Japan, and I wasn't even fighting back. For some reason, I sympathized slightly with the Japanese government, and I could see that they were attacking me not out of hate or justice, but out of panic for a country that was sliding into a moral-less pit of sex and drugs and a splintering family structure. I was remarkably calm throughout the game, and I couldn't tell you who won.

At some point Julie and I hopped in her car and headed out on the road. We ended up in Nara, in the village where Rob lives, and I realized we were just a few single-lane inaka roads away from his house. We should go. She sort of thought I was kidding but kept driving anyway. The roads were flooding, but we continued through, nearly falling off a cliff and one point but eventually pulling into his house (which looked nothing like his actual house). At that moment, I remembered that his entire family was visiting from America - grandparents, aunts, uncles, the whole crew. Saying hello would be crazy, creepy... Why were we at his house again? But then I spotted him, his hair much too short and his skin kind of greasy - or was that my skin? It's not clear- and he approached to exchange a brief hug. He didn't even seem shocked that we were there. But for some reason I was being blocked by one of his relatives; I could barely see over some guy's huge head, and Julie was standing a ways to my right, so he went to hug her instead. I think we left after that. Rob and I never actually exchanged any words or hugs, just went on our ways - me back into Julie's car and Rob back to his hoards of awaiting family.

Weird, right?