d  r  e  a  m  i  n  g 
                 01-29-2000 
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                There was a big crowd of people walking across a park in small, boisterous groups. It looked like they just came from a rally or a party or a concert. I was hovering over them, bodiless, moving from one group to the next in a slow, effortless flight, brushing the treetops. This was in Tijuana.   

                I saw a solitary figure trailing behind the last of them. I flew towards him. He stopped walking and looked away from me as if he didn't want his face to be seen. When I circled around he looked the other way. It was Richard Gere and I was a reporter now, or a news camera, and he didn't know anyone to know that he was there.  

                - - -   
                                        
                I was on a bus, the kind that bands have when they tour. There were four or five of us. Sometimes I was the driver. We were driving on narrow, European-looking streets (but it wasn't in Europe) which made maneuvering around corners especially difficult. We stopped in a village to deliver something but (I stopped being in the dream at this point and became a non-participating watcher) there were complications with the locals and they had to stay there longer than they had planned. It became a movie, a comedy... but I can't remember the details anymore.  

                - - -  
                                        
                I was trying to reach my car. I had parked it a few blocks from wherever I was in this residential neighborhood that was divided into different sections. Each section had a theme and I was taking a shortcut through the park of the "New Orleans" section (they had kitsch New Orleans style houses). It was full of kids practicing for an upcoming test of skills which may have been a boy scouts thing. Some of the younger children were just playing. I passed by a boy being tutored by two men. They asked him to bring them two coconuts from a pile. He did so carelessly, touching one that had military-sounding  numbers written on it. It was a decoy/booby trap, and they told him that had that been the real test he's be dead by now.   

                I left the park and reached a movie theater. There was a group of black women in their 40s sitting in the lobby which extended to the sidewalk. They had very colorful clothes and headwraps. They were santeria priestesses, and they were very nice and friendly. 
                 
                 
                 

                   
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