Sylvia's Journal

My real waking up this morning took place in North Truro on Cape Cod. But in the dream it was Israel. I am glad I woke up because I did not seem to be able to get myself out of Israel on my own and something had to happen.

How did I get there? I had been visiting a camp with lots of children who were all involved in one form of gymnastics or another (dance included), each with its own particular uniform. I felt very stiff and awkward amidst all that limberness. At some point a teacher took pity on me and taught me. Her first exercise was to sit with on left leg crossed over the other. I was having a hard time figuring out which leg over which, and it took me awhile to get it right. She then told me to switch my shoes – they were hiking boots – and put the right one on the left foot and the left one on the right. There was something healing about this that I did not get; it only felt awkward but I was a good student and followed instructions.

After that exercise I wandered around the place and discovered a wall that had been taken down. I peeked through it and saw a wonderful scene of a city hewn into the mountaints, like Petra in Jordan. I took a picture and noticed people looking at me in shock. I quickly understood why. I had taken a picture of Israel and that was forbidden. Uniformed men took me away and into a small room. I did not even have time to tell Axel and whoever I was with on the other side. After waiting some time another uniformed man came by and took my camera and tossed it into a small side room that was half filled with digital cameras. I pleaded to keep mine and he smiled and walked away.

I waited for a long time and then looked out the door and found myself in something that looked like the covered entrance of some public transport building. I was still waiting for a nice uniformed man to give me my camera back and lead me back to where I had been before I was apprehended but no one came. Around me there were scenes full of religious overtones, sometimes recognizable, as the three wise kings (but it was spring), Greek orthodox priests in purple robes, clusters of people singing or chanting. I followed some and found myself in a busy city with traffic rushing by and lots of people. I realized that I had to figure out a way to get help and out of this place but I could not read the language, had no money and did not really know where I was. I started to flag down a taxi, figuring I would get myself to the Dutch Embassy but people looked at me in ways that made me realize that the flagging down I was doing was not allright. I was looking for a taxi stand but could only find long lines of people waiting for buses. I started to get hungry, tired and discouraged. It is about that time that a phone or alarm in the room below or next to us, in real life, started to ring. Imagine that, at 6:15 AM on a Sunday morning. But I was happy to wake up to a gorgeous Sunday morning in quiet North Truro, still in posession of my camera (I bet they erased the pictures I took) and knowing my way back.

I ended up in Truro via Laconia (NH) and Centerville (MA). In the morning Bill and I flew, using VORs, from Beverly Airport via Portsmouth to Laconia where we landed on the shores of a still frozen Lake Winnipesauke. From Laconia we flew back through a haze, to Beverly via Concord and Lawrence. I focused on radio contact with various airspaces, keeping the plane level, at the right altitude and on the right course. Bill took responsibility for punching in frequencies and following us closely using various navigational aids. I get a bit lazy with him around because he does things that I ought to be doing, but it is good for me to focus on a few things well and get my confidence back. I executed two perfect landings.

Axel came to pick me up and we drove to Centerville on the Cape to pick up my recent E-bay purchase, an Alden ocean shell. With the boat on the roof we drove another hour further up the Cape to see Alison in N. Truro. She took us into Provincetown where we had a wonderful dinner and then showed us around some of the spots she blogged about on Caringbridge last summer while regaling us with stories about the new and colorful cast of characters that has entered her life. Axel and I, like two elderly folks, were ready to go to bed when Alison was just waking up, but she drove us back to her home anyway, she is such a good host. And now, with everyone still asleep in the house, it is me with two animals, Abby the frisky and wide-awake corgi and Elan, the older and wiser but territorial cat.