I was a student in the very nice classroom of a very nice African, perhaps Nigerian, teacher. We, us students and the teacher, had just found-out the upcoming college-style exam would include questions about readings he said wouldn’t be on it; a test that seemed to be days away. It meant we’d have to go back and review the readings, but we weren’t really upset about it; at-least I wasn’t and none of my classmates seemed to be. But the teacher’s smiley reaction to the news suggested he was a little embarrassed about his mistake.
What makes the dream special is that it was a lucid dream in the sense that I knew or had some idea that I was dreaming. I remember thinking how it would be funny if I jokingly asked if I could have the audiobook version of the new books he’d just assigned us to read. So I raised my hand, by making myself raise my hand; anticipating the fact that this dream teacher I didn’t have any conscious control over would answer me. And after a few seconds, he did. “Yes, Marcel,” I think he said. And when I asked my question, the whole class laughed.
2012 ( March 20 )