A Dream of Nicaragua

We all dream, and sometimes we try to find the meaning behind those dreams. Today, I laid down for a nap. I have been a little under the weather lately, and today, I finally felt capable of getting up and moving around. I took a couple of long walks. I walked down past the Central Square to Hostel Siesta Perdida and had a chat with some folks I know. I went to Pure Earth Café for the only decent Salad in Leon. When I made it back about 3pm, I laid down for a nap.

The nap started as most naps do. The fan was blowing over me. I had my bandana pulled down over my eyes, shirt off, hand behind my head. Perfection. Then I began the dream.

My dreams are rarely exclusively in English anymore. They are a strange amalgamation of English and Spanish. I still don’t understand all the Spanish parts—just as in life—but they are there. So, in this dream, I am wandering the streets of Leon at night. There seems to be a festival atmosphere in the air. Vendors fill both sides of the street, but none offer what I am seeking. I finally duck into an alleyway, and I see it. A vendor has the perfect hamburger. She even has pickles! Huge, cooked medium, thick cut onion, ripe tomato, loaded with pickles, mayo, mustard, and a dash of hot sauce. It’s steaming in the night air. I buy it. Mouth watering I sit down to eat, but she doesn’t have anything to drink.

I get up and tell her, “Guardar esta para mi,” and I am off to find a drink. A block away, I find a woman selling my favorite soda. She has Mt. Dew Blue Voltage. No one has that. No one here knows what Mt. Dew is—much less Blue Mt. Dew. I buy it. Turning I notice my favorite chips. Another vendor is selling Zapp’s Voodoo chips. What? How are those here? I run to buy them, but she only has the big bag. I need to find a baggy for her to put some in for me.

I run to find a baggy. After searching for what seems forever, I find a baggy. Running back to the stand, I notice she is closing. I manage to convince her to give me some chips, giving her my last cord for her trouble. I have everything I need! I have everything I love.

I return to the Hamburger vendor for my perfect hamburger. It is still there. It is still, inexplicably, steaming hot. She too is closing down. I can’t stay there to eat. I gather all of my precious things to my chest. I have my perfect burger. I have my favorite soda. I have my favorite chips. I find a spot. It’s just a clear flat area above a terraced wall. As I attempt to set my items down, they fall. The hamburger flips to the ground. The soda spills. The chips scatter. Perfection broken. Happiness ruined.

I scramble to the ground, trying to find a piece of my hamburger not covered in trash or ants. I stuff it in my mouth. I find a few pristine chips. I eat them eagerly. I wash it down with the dregs of my soda.

I wake up.

Now what does this dream mean? Am I homesick? I don’t think so. If I were, I would have dreamed of home. I didn’t. I dreamed of happiness. I dreamed of perfection. I think my dream was telling me to take happiness where I find it. I shouldn’t try to build and collect my way to happiness and perfection. If I had stayed at each stall, I would have had a little bit of happiness. I would have enjoyed each tiny morsel. I would have had my favorite chips, soda, and perfect hamburger. Maybe not all together, but it would have been good enough. Instead, I tried to horde it all together. I lost it all, and I had to satisfy myself with the broken remnants.

What are your thoughts? Both on the dream and taking happiness in small doses.

PS: I also dreamed I was back in my HS Jr English class. The teacher erased a map of America in order to put something new on the board…