My First Visit to Ostrava

My dream began with the prospect of doing parent-teacher conferences at my old middle school.  I had suddenly heard about them and was unprepared.  I figured they were in the evening, so I went to the middle school and planned on preparing for them after class.  Part of my lack of preparation was my wardrobe.  I was wearing red and yellow plaid pants.  While walking across the street with a student or someone, I walked knee-deep through muddy water.

When I arrived at the middle school, I found that instead of evening parent-teacher conferences, they were to start at 3 pm.  Moreover, this was the last day of school.  During classes I scrambled to finish things up and also to review with the students so that they would appear brilliant at the conferences.  At one point I remember a student specifically using the word "pointillism" in our review--though she had paired it with some other polysyllabic word.  Throughout the time the classroom was packed and at some point the conferences began, though I don't recall seeing a single parent.

Next I found myself at work at the group home.  At one point I realized I had taken three residents on an outing--I'm not sure how considering that would mean I would be pushing three wheelchairs.  From their it transitioned into being in the Czech Republic.

I think I was taking a train from the little town in Iowa to Ostrava, as if they were in the same state or country.  Simultaneously, it was as if I was traveling from Prague to Ostrava.  I had my camera with me and I was seated with Daniel J.--a friend from a past trip to China (in real life).  I began taking pictures of all we passed.  The train was a bit elevated, making for an interesting view.  i saw old building structures, including something like the catacombs.  All over, there was heavy building machinery, showing this was an industrial town.  I was in awe of all the beauty and during the ride I also saw a traditional wedding.  The aura of everything was not that I was in Czech Republic, but that I was in something straight from Arabian nights.  The people were darkly complected, and their even seemed to be Arab music.  The architecture, however, was like a dusty Russian architecture with spires and domes.  I think I was maybe transforming the Czech Republic into Turkey due to my friend Rachel's recent return from there.

I sensed we were on a train, but perhaps we were on a bus, because I remember looking out at the lanes of traffic.  Out there I saw paper-thin porcelain sailboats made by some artist.  I suspected Rachael (now Rachael W.) had made them.  They were beautiful and delicate and sitting on the painted lane dividers.  Some of the ships lay smashed, others were still in tact.

At some point we turned around and returned to a market area near a bay.  There were what appeared to be columns in front of a market tent, but the "columns" were made of strings of beads.  At each column was a man who would climb the column and then repel down it.  Nearby was a group of people singing or chanting.  They were somehow in or wearing this wooden structure while they sang; it was in the shape of an "s" and was hand-carved from wood.  The music was full of wonderful harmonies, and as I observed I heard some words (supposedly) by Anne Lamott.  She observed about the place that she would be overcome by the beauty of the singing every morning and night and she marveled at the unity it expressed of the people.

The singing ended and people dispersed.  The wooden structure was left, though now smaller, and I was washing it in the sink.  Before I knew it, the festive throng had joined together again, this time for a wedding ceremony.  We moved to an open field where we circled up, men standing consecutively, then women.  Two boys ran over to the women's section to be funny, but the master of ceremonies required they stay where they were.  The people in the circle were simultaneously adults and children.  I found that this dance of the bridal party was also to be a sort of red-rover-style matchmaking experience.  Before the two sides of the circle came together and predicted the match, there was a great singing.  It was like a chant and at first I thought it was a Buddhist ritual, but then in the words that were sung, I came to think that it could not be anything but Christian.  The words washed over me and spoke of love, brotherhood, and unity.  The particular phrases and words used escape me, but I was near tears in my dream from their beauty.  Unfortunately, the wonderful words were interrupted by my alarm.