The dream starts in dense forest. The foliage makes it difficult to tell what time of the day it is, but it is still relatively light. There is a fresh smell of green-ness, interspersed with the sweet smell of rotting undergrowth. Everything appears to be quite damp, as if we were in tropical forest, but the trees around us seem to be trees from a temperate climate - tall and sturdy.
I am with a girl and a boy, and though we are walking in a group we are quite separated. The girl is far up ahead, and I can barely see glimpses of her clothes through the trees. The boy is lagging behind somewhere and I cannot see him at all.
Suddenly it starts to rain, and the raindrops fall so fast that it becomes hard to see the path. It's like wearing a visor of water through which the world gets blurry. Everything gets so muddy and slippery that it's exhausting to keep walking though I'm not carrying much on my back.
I emerge out of the forest into a small village of about ten huts in a circle. As sudden as the rain came, it stops. The boy comes out of the forest and stands next to me, looking at the cute little thatched huts with smoke streaming languidly out of them. We are adopted by a family and given a plastic sheet to sit on and some warm food to eat.
We sit on the ground and gaze into the forest, waiting for the other girl to show up. The light fades gradually around us until we are sitting in the completely still dark. Somewhere, someone lights a fire, smelling of damp wood. We join the gathering around the fire, but are unable to understand anything that is said. Everyone appears cheerful in their conversation, slapping each other on the back and telling jokes. I feel excessively tired and go to sleep curled up in the corner of a hut.
The next morning we say wordless goodbyes to the people of the village and head off into the forest, which is as dense as the one from the previous day. This time the boy walks closer to me, and I realise that we have not said anything to each other and I have no idea what his voice sounds like (or what language he speaks).
The track becomes harder and harder to see, in some places just a slicker of mud with a few unidentified prints. Soon we are totally lost in the forest, and the boy gestures for me to take out the map. Only when I see the map do I realise that we are in Japan, and that we are walking through a large area of forest in order to get to the sea. He traces with his finger the various paths through the forest and indicates to me where he thinks we are.
We take a different path which leads uphill. It starts raining again, and this time we huddle under a black umbrella he pulls out of his backpack. After a while I realise that we cannot stop walking or we would become stranded in the forest, so we trudge along in the rain.
At the top of a hill we are struck by the glimpse of deep blue sea in the distance. "We made it!" I shout and start running towards the sea. It doesn't seem to get any closer as we move towards it, but we come across another village where we decide to stay for a night.
We find a secluded spot to sit and watch the sea. Everything seems so very tranquil, looking out over the forest at the still sea. There is a ship very far away, just a dot on the horizon, but I feel like that ship is meant for us.
"Let's stay here in the village and not go to the ship." The boy says finally. He has an awkward Japanese accent and the words sound clipped.
I don't know what to say, and at that point suddenly realise that I have a whole head of long hair. I run my hand through it and a strand comes away. It is bright green, like algae. I pick up the end of my hair and confirm that my entire head is full of green hair. I am so alarmed by this, but the boy says "it's a sign, you cannot leave."
And then I wake up.
There is a strong sense of deja vu in this dream - it is clearly related to my travels in Sikkim where I met a Taiwanese girl called Julia, who was planning to do a 3 day walk from Pelling to Yuksom via Khecheopalri lake. She had a 1 day head start, I took the jeep to Yuksom and waited for 3 days there - but she never arrived. I was worried about her but didn't know who to contact. I never ran into her again on the road, so I never found out what happened to her.
I am with a girl and a boy, and though we are walking in a group we are quite separated. The girl is far up ahead, and I can barely see glimpses of her clothes through the trees. The boy is lagging behind somewhere and I cannot see him at all.
Suddenly it starts to rain, and the raindrops fall so fast that it becomes hard to see the path. It's like wearing a visor of water through which the world gets blurry. Everything gets so muddy and slippery that it's exhausting to keep walking though I'm not carrying much on my back.
I emerge out of the forest into a small village of about ten huts in a circle. As sudden as the rain came, it stops. The boy comes out of the forest and stands next to me, looking at the cute little thatched huts with smoke streaming languidly out of them. We are adopted by a family and given a plastic sheet to sit on and some warm food to eat.
We sit on the ground and gaze into the forest, waiting for the other girl to show up. The light fades gradually around us until we are sitting in the completely still dark. Somewhere, someone lights a fire, smelling of damp wood. We join the gathering around the fire, but are unable to understand anything that is said. Everyone appears cheerful in their conversation, slapping each other on the back and telling jokes. I feel excessively tired and go to sleep curled up in the corner of a hut.
The next morning we say wordless goodbyes to the people of the village and head off into the forest, which is as dense as the one from the previous day. This time the boy walks closer to me, and I realise that we have not said anything to each other and I have no idea what his voice sounds like (or what language he speaks).
The track becomes harder and harder to see, in some places just a slicker of mud with a few unidentified prints. Soon we are totally lost in the forest, and the boy gestures for me to take out the map. Only when I see the map do I realise that we are in Japan, and that we are walking through a large area of forest in order to get to the sea. He traces with his finger the various paths through the forest and indicates to me where he thinks we are.
We take a different path which leads uphill. It starts raining again, and this time we huddle under a black umbrella he pulls out of his backpack. After a while I realise that we cannot stop walking or we would become stranded in the forest, so we trudge along in the rain.
At the top of a hill we are struck by the glimpse of deep blue sea in the distance. "We made it!" I shout and start running towards the sea. It doesn't seem to get any closer as we move towards it, but we come across another village where we decide to stay for a night.
We find a secluded spot to sit and watch the sea. Everything seems so very tranquil, looking out over the forest at the still sea. There is a ship very far away, just a dot on the horizon, but I feel like that ship is meant for us.
"Let's stay here in the village and not go to the ship." The boy says finally. He has an awkward Japanese accent and the words sound clipped.
I don't know what to say, and at that point suddenly realise that I have a whole head of long hair. I run my hand through it and a strand comes away. It is bright green, like algae. I pick up the end of my hair and confirm that my entire head is full of green hair. I am so alarmed by this, but the boy says "it's a sign, you cannot leave."
And then I wake up.
There is a strong sense of deja vu in this dream - it is clearly related to my travels in Sikkim where I met a Taiwanese girl called Julia, who was planning to do a 3 day walk from Pelling to Yuksom via Khecheopalri lake. She had a 1 day head start, I took the jeep to Yuksom and waited for 3 days there - but she never arrived. I was worried about her but didn't know who to contact. I never ran into her again on the road, so I never found out what happened to her.
A Christmas flower in Yuksom
No comments:
Post a Comment