i was in a haitian peristyle...very simply built with beige walls made of clay or stone --almost like an adobe.

in one almost bare room there was a mambo dancing, veves and candles all over the floor. the doorway to the room seemed to be shielded, so i never went all the way in and she never came out.

the first time i walked by, she was mounted by a spirit i didn't recognize. i greeted him/her and went on my way.

the next time i walked by, she was maman brigitte. her clothes reminded me of oya as st. theresa.

traditionally, oya is a wife of sango, the wind in the storm. she is the orisa who takes the breath of life back to olodumare and accepts deathbed prayers along with petitions to the ancestors. it's probably safe to say that oya and maman brigitte are essentially the same spirit that has gained different monikers and visages--not to mention a somewhat split personality--during her years in the diaspora.

anyway, i kept going between the shrine room and a bathroom that housed a tub filled with water and all kinds of herbs. it seemed that my goal was to take a bath, but i had to keep checking the water to see if it was ready. whenever i inspected it, this or that herb was needed...so i never actually stepped in the water, but instead wound up going back and forth, gathering herbs.

it was one of those dreams where i felt i was being taught some kind of ritual or recipe that is always maddeningly difficult or impossible to recall upon waking.

...but, i said i wanted to travel. so i suppose my wish was granted.

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