African Terror Dream

I had a terrible dream last night and Joe is quite bored with listening to the rambling remnants of my unconscious, so I'll share with here. It's a mashup of my trip to Sudan, a recent New Yorker Philip Guerivitch feature on Rwanda and a discussion about the Amazon we had last night with the Willis family:

I was in Africa with a group of kawaja who were staying in a resort/lodge which was quite western in its construction and materials. Our program was structured like school. We met with a leader (also kawaja/muzunga but somehow more officially a part of the community) in a lecture hall space daily. A lobby/lounge and communal kitchen were at the other end of the recently completed lodge-style wooden building. There was minimal engagement with the locals, except for when we ranged about during our free time, exploring the nearby fields and the wild, rushing and muddy river flowing behind the lodge.

Another co-leader was involved with us as well, but he was African, although very much a member of our group. Knowledgeable and quite independent, he confidently discovered and used special parts of the lodge for storing his material and was intrepid about exploring.

Although the facility was built in a style familiar to Americans, it was still very much African with a distinct absence of any Western amenities. Also, the building was built cheaply and although it was recently constructed, things were beginning to break and not be repaired.

Much worse however, our group was slowing disappearing. Team members who were either outspoken or otherwise distinctive, were disappearing or being killed. We had discovered some hacked up bodies in bedrooms and lounge areas, never knowing who would be next. The team, although terrified, was complicit in a behavior which ignored these discoveries and concealed anxiety and fear. The remaining team tried to find projects to demonstrate our value, by trying to fix broken elements of the lodge. We also were collecting money each day (?) and had quite a stash. We quietly schemed at how to escape before the end of our visit but were concerned about leaving our leader and his colleague behind, potentially to suffer for our fleeing the lodge.

Outside, contractors were building yet another bank of rooms at the lodge. Like mercenaries of some sort, they seemed to be unassociated with the natives but also completely unengaged with our team as well, barely speaking as they went about their work. I went to the river and floated alone downstream, using some large pieces of canvas and bark as a floatation device. The river was fast-moving and muddy. Chillingly, the pieces of canvas were handmade missing person pleas which were floated downriver in the hope of communicating with neighboring communities. Apparently the murders and disappearances were not limited to our group. As I floated down, I blinked open my eyes and was shocked that the mud had coated my eyes, making me temporarily blind. I stumbled to shore and made my way back.

Upon my return to the lodge, I discovered that our leader and his colleague had disappeared. We didn't know where they were and hoped they were in a meeting of some kind. We were filled with anxiety and busied ourselves, trying to find ways to be helpful to prove our value and save our lives.

The end. A never-to-be completed cliff hanger!