I had a very vivid dream the other night that, on a whim, I decided that we should go on a trip to Mexico city with my mom and grandma (undoubtedly influenced by their impending visit). Accordingly, mom, grandma, myself, and BNB headed off to Mexico City (in the dream I was thinking of it as Distrito Federal (D-F, "day eff-ay").
Upon our arrival, we were ferried to our hotel in a taxi. As we stood around admiring the exterior, which was very lush and tropical with an impressive waterfall, my mom's cell phone rang. It was my grandma, who had apparently mistakenly got back into a taxi and had ended up back at the airport.
I insisted on going to fetch her, pointing out that neither BNB nor my mom had the remotest grasp of Spanish, whereas I could at least stumble along enough to be understood. I snagged a taxi and as we drove away, I decided that the way to get the driver to hurry up would be to tell him the long, involved story of our decision to vacation in Mexico D.F., and how my grandma managed to get lost.
In the dream, I was attempting to do all of this in Spanish, but I noticed that my brain was working very slowly and I was having trouble with words and verbs that I know quite well.
With Grandma rescued, we returned to the hotel. I know there was more after this, included a trip to a rural area and a sojourn in the home of a tall, thin, very intense woman. But those details are hazy.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
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1 comment:
funny, my only dream about visiting mexico city also involved traffic. and foreign-language dreams are always an adventure.
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