What dreams may come

Today we had a lecture and lunch with a premier scholar and social leader on ethnicity in Africa. He's kind of a big deal. But we weren't told until most of the way through the lecture. He may give Obama's grandmother a call so we can see Obama's family house, Raila Odinga's family home, and our site coordinator's husband's family home, all in a trip. And we spoke of dreams. In his tradition, dreams are the means of communicating with the ancestors, or rather, of the ancestors communicating with you. Children are named after a relative who appears to a parent in a dream near the time of birth. This same man, who reminded us (as have others here) of the importance of sleeping dreams, asked us of our future plans. I, not certain (and greatly intimidated by an intelligent and powerful gentleman), nebulously fumbled my words until he went on to explain that dreams are necessary for progress. And I wish to dream this year. Maybe between the mefloquine side effects and the presence of a culture that respects them, my dreams will blossom. But maybe is lazy. I don't know what I will do when I get myself a profession, but at this point, it keeps being confirmed that seminary is the place for me, so I will dream of that until dreams are stopped. For I won't know if the door or the window is passable unless I go right up to them and try. Lazing around in the hallway of ignorance does not satisfy "when God shuts a door," the proverbs, or even simple curiosity. But what to walk towards? Maybe a dream will appear this year. I have a few dreams in the pipe already, though. I'm coming to think it is better to walk towards them in confidence and hurt my nose if stopped than to get a sore butt waiting around for a direction.