4/10/2023: I dreamt that I was going back to school with my brothers (Skinny & Fat). We were back in high school but walking the hallways of our junior high building. We all had P.E. as an elective but before we could even attend the class, we had to have a towel. It was a big deal almost as if it was part of our uniform even though we were not wearing uniforms in my dream. The towel was to be used after P.E. so we could wash and dry ourselves before heading out to the rest of our classes. Turned out that both my brothers didn't have a towel with them, so in my dream, I was scrambling to find a towel back home. However, this home that I was in was a childhood home back in Minnesota. I was sifting through a suitcase pulling out towels left and right. Every towel that I pulled out didn't look right or feel right. They were either too small like hand towels or too rough for the skin. Finally, I was able to find two red/dark pink towels.
When I pulled the two towels up to compare them, one was shorter than the other. My mom appeared then to check if I'd found the towels. I told her I did but that the lengths were not even. Mom told me to take the shorter one and give mine to one of the boys. I was a little hesitant at first because I had the "perfect towel" already and did not want to give it away. In my mind, it was mine and it was important. Yet, if I didn't give it up, then one of my brothers was going to fail P.E. because he wouldn't have the right material to pass the class. As a result, I gave it to Fat while I took the shorter towel. Here's the thing though, the "towels" that I spent so much time sifting through were actually our Hmong red sashes. I kept unfolding and folding them to check the width and length because they need to be the right size for each individual.
Once each of us had our "towel," we headed off to class. Skinny went off on his own while Fat and I walked together to class. I told him he could put his towel inside his locker if he didn't want to carry it around in his backpack. He proceeded to tell me that he would just carry it with him because the towel was too big for his locker. As we were conversing about the towel, we entered a fancy but sort of dark building. Tile floors, glass windows on the right side, and a long hallway straight ahead. However, what was in front was dark and hidden. I only noticed the two doors to my left that were marked as restrooms.
Now, this building that we had entered, I had actually been there. It was a car rental building connected to an airport in Wisconsin. My family and I did stop for a bathroom break as well after we had dropped off our rental car in the same exact spot. The only difference was that the two bathrooms were a bit more hidden in the corner instead of next to each other against the wall. Also unlike my dream, there were no bathroom doors marked for men and women. Just signs.
Well, when we came upon the restrooms, my brother and I decided that we would both use them before we head on to class. Fat finished first and left for class. I went into the women's restroom. I had just entered a stall when another woman walked in behind me. I didn't feel the need to use the restroom anymore so I left. When I came back out to the hallway, there was a girl waiting for me outside. She appeared to be close to my age while the woman I saw in the bathroom was a lot older. I don't know either one of them, but the girl seemed to know me.
"What took you so long?" the girl asked as soon as she saw me. "I've been waiting for you. We have to hurry before we're late."
All of these conversations that I had in my dream were in Hmong.
"Late for what?"
Before she could respond, the woman in the bathroom came out. She saw us and joined in our conversation. "What are you girls still doing here? Why aren't you in class?"
The girl pointed at me and answered, "I've been waiting for her. I woke up late because I couldn't sleep, and she took so long in the bathroom. We will be late if we don't hurry."
The woman looked at the girl. "Why couldn't you sleep?"
"My bed wasn't very comfortable."
The woman then turned to me. "What about you?"
I chuckled at her question and nonchalantly said, "I slept very well. I'm not a picky sleeper. As long as I have a bed, then I can sleep anywhere." (I'm actually a very picky sleeper.)
After my reply, the girl wanted to show the woman and me her bed like she was trying to prove her point about how bad her sleeping situation was. "Come," she insisted. "Come with me and I'll show you guys my bed. You'll see how bad it is."
At this point, we had forgotten all about getting to class on time. The girl turned around and walked down the hallway while the woman and I trailed behind. It was as if the girl had just turned around and taken her first step forward when I found myself walking into my cousin Sarah's bedroom. Sarah's small bedroom consists of a full-sized bed against the wall by the door. A small wooden shelf sits in the left corner opposite the bed while her dresser sits directly in front of the door. Next to the dresser is a tiny opened closet nestled in the right corner. When the three of us entered my cousin's room, the girl went directly to the bed while the woman walked further in toward the dresser and closet. I stayed near the door but still in front of the bed behind the girl.
"Look," she said when all of us were inside the bedroom. "Look at how bad the bed is."
I watched as she jumped onto the bed. The moment she jumped, it was as if we got swapped midair because when "she" landed on the bed, it was no longer her but me. I wasn't standing by the door anymore. I was actually the person bouncing on the bed on my knees. The woman that was standing in front of the closest was also gone. In her place was an elderly man. He watched me as I moved around the bed on my hands and knees.
"Look," I echoed. "Look at how bad the bed is."
From my perspective, the bed was now a bunk bed and I was moving around on the bottom bunk. However, the bottom bunk was enclosed on all three sides except the feet for people to get on and off. The man watched as I scooted to the left of the bed away from the wall closer to the rails.
"When I sit up, I have to be very careful. Otherwise, I will hit my head on the top bed. I also can't sleep in the middle because the bed is uneven. Look, it tilts on one side. I can only sleep on this side."
"Then just sleep on your side," the elderly man replied.
"OK." I had just laid down and rolled onto my side to face the wall when a little boy climbed into bed next to me. I did not recognize him, but he appeared to be about 5 or 6 years old.
"Can I sleep here?" he asked as he lay down next to me. "I'm tired."
I nodded before making room for him. The elderly man was still standing at the corner watching us while I watched the boy sleep. He had just dozed off when another man entered the room. This man appeared to be in his late 30s to early 40s. He was looking for the boy, and when he saw the boy asleep on the bed, he climbed onto the bed next to the boy. He turned his body as well so his back was against the wall while he faced us. I think I had my eyes closed in my dream, but I could see everything that was happening.
When the man was settled on the bed, he turned the boy so that they were snuggled into one another. Yet, the man was watching me. I felt uneasy but I didn't say anything or move. Then, I saw the man reach one hand into his pants and started masturbating while watching me. Again, it was almost as if I was asleep in my dream, but on the other hand, I was not because I was able to see everything. I was appalled at this man's action. Not only were we strangers, but he had the audacity to masturbate in someone else's room in front of a child and an elderly. I was absolutely disgusted in my dream.
Who is this man? What is he doing? Does he not feel embarrassed? These were the thoughts running through my mind at that moment. I remember turning away from the man to look at the elderly man to see if he would say something or something, but he did not. He just looked at the man and shook his head helplessly. He didn't even try to stop the man who, I felt at that moment, was disrespecting my privacy and disgracing my honor.
What?! He's not going to say anything? This is wrong! I need to get out of here before something happens to me!
I jumped out of bed and ran out of Sarah's room. I didn't even bother to look back at either one of those men. The moment I stepped out of Sarah's room, I was back in that same spot in the car rental building. The girl was there again, but this time, she was pacing back and forth.
"Hurry, let's go! We have to go!"
"Go where?" I asked.
"Class, of course," she replied. "We're going to be so late. Hurry!"
I followed her inside a car and she drove us back to school to attend class. The school was in a big city almost as if we were no longer returning to high school but heading toward college. In the middle of the road were two railroads that go in different directions. I remember seeing the railroads and being concerned that we were going to be even later if we get stuck waiting for the trains to pass. My concern proved valid when she drove us past the first track and had to stop at the second track for a moving train.
As we waited, I noticed that there were a couple of train cars sitting behind us on the first track. They weren't running at all. I don't know why, but a thought crossed my mind that the spot would be perfect for pictures. Since we were stuck waiting anyway that I should use that time to take some pictures. I left the car with my camera and started taking pictures. The girl was still sitting in the car so I hung my camera strap on a train car in order to snap a full-body picture instead of just selfies. I had just hung my camera on the train car when the train started running and took my camera with it.
"Oh no!" I shout as the train drove away. The girl came out of the car at my cry to check on me. I explained to her what had happened.
"Don't worry," she reassured me. "I know how we can get your camera back. Just wait right here."
She left for a few seconds, and when she returned, she was driving an old run-down train car. She smiled proudly at herself when she pulled up next to me on the track.
I gaped at her as I looked the train car up and down. "This is your plan?"
"Yes. Hop on! I'll drive us. We'll catch up to that train in no time!" She was overly confident.
I shook my head as I started heading in the direction of the first train. She chugged alongside me on the track. "I'll walk. Walking is probably a lot faster than riding that train car. Do you see how old and broken it is? It's barely running. At this rate, we'll never catch the other train. Maybe we should just give up."
"No. Don't worry. We'll catch the train. I know some shortcuts. Follow me."
She then turned the train car, which took her off the train tracks into the street. She made a couple of turns every few blocks, and I noticed that as we continued on that her train car had destroyed every building and structure that was on the road. She was even taking us across neighbors' yards, destroying their grass and fences.
"Stop," I told her. "We can't go on any further. Look at the damage we've caused. There's going to be a lot of angry people after us. I don't have the money to pay the fines if they press charges. That camera is not worth it. Let's forget it and just go back before anyone comes after us."
The girl still seemed unbothered about the damages she'd caused. She shrugged as if it was no big deal to her. "It's no big deal at all! Why do you worry so much? We can just run away and then no one can find us. They're not going to fine us if they don't know who caused the damage. C'mon, let's go!"
The girl left me. She drove her train car away and left me to find my way back. I didn't know how to return so I decided to follow the wreckage back to where we'd come. Before I could return though, a group of people did approach me. They were upset like I'd predicted. They wanted payment for the damages that we'd caused to their home and property.
I told them I didn't have the money to pay them and that I wasn't the one who caused the destruction. I was only following the other person, and I had no idea that this was going to happen. The group demanded to know whether or not I drove and/or rode in the vehicle that destroyed their property. I told them no. My answer and pleading seemed to appease them because they told me that since I wasn't the one at fault, then they'd let me go. They'd look for the one who caused the damage instead.
When I finally made it back to where I'd started, it was the same car rental building again at the same exact spot by the restrooms. The girl was there again. This time, she seemed fairly upset.
"Where did you go?" I asked her. "You left me all alone. I didn't know where to go. I had to follow our footsteps back."
She didn't answer my question. Instead, she kept saying, "Let's go. We have to go. Hurry."
"Hurry where?"
"Hurry. We have to hurry. I have to find him. Hurry."
She kept talking to herself as she paced the hallway. I was still frazzled by what had happened and was trying my best to understand what the girl was getting at. While I was trying to sort through my thoughts and emotions, my parents joined us.
"What are you guys still doing here?" my mom asked me.
I pointed at the girl. "I'm still waiting for her, but I think she's looking for her husband. She can't seem to find him."
"Hurry, hurry," the girl continued to insist as if my parents weren't there. Then, she bounded for the end of the hallway. However, this hallway now had an exit door, such as a door you would find in an old gas station or mom-and-pop grocery store.
"Wait!" I called to her as I stopped in front of the men's restroom door. "You haven't even checked inside here. He might just be inside."
"No, he's not. I know he's not." She exited the building.
"Dad, can you please go in and check?"
"Who am I looking for?" he asked.
I shrugged. "I don't know. Any man, I guess. Can you just check to see if anyone's inside? I'm a woman, so it's not appropriate for me to go in. I'm also not the man's wife, so I better not go in there looking for him. It might be better for you to check since you're a man too."
"Alright." Dad popped into the restroom while Mom and I waited outside.
I could hear the girl pacing outside the building door. It sounded like she was still out there waiting for us as well. Seconds later, Dad popped back out, shaking his head at us.
"There's no one inside."
"See!" the girl shouted. "He's not here! I knew it! C'mon, let's go! Hurry!"
My parents and I looked at one another and followed her. I pushed the door open and stepped out to find myself in a big open park. What I pushed open was actually a metal gate that led from the park out to the parking lot. My parents were with us along with an infant that I was now holding in one arm. The girl was gone, and in her place was me. I was now the one looking for 'my husband.'
The four of us left the crowd inside the park. We followed a man's voice that was projecting from a stereo in the parking lot. When we got to where the voice was coming from, we saw that there was a small stage set up for entertainment. The man talking on stage was 'my husband.' He appeared drunk as he spoke into the microphone. A small crowd had gathered in front of the stage.
I remember feeling quite embarrassed as my parents and I watched him. He spoke a lot of nonsense. I even commented to my parents that he must be drunk due to his behavior. Neither one said anything. Dad walked toward the stage while Mom, 'my baby,' and myself stayed where we were.
Then, 'my husband' looked over and saw us. He didn't even acknowledge me. Instead, he carried on with what he was doing- entertaining the crowd.
"I have a story to tell you all," he began. "This story is mine. I'm going to tell you all about the time I courted a ghost girl. Before I begin, I forbid my wife, family, and friends from listening to my story."
When he said those words, I felt a chill run down my body and I immediately covered my baby girl's ears. I turned around to walk away.
"Let's go, Mom."
"Where are you going?" she asked, waving her hand toward the stage. "Son-in-law is still here. If you leave now, how are you going to find him again after he's done?"
"It's OK, Mom," I told her leading the way away from the stage. "He told us not to listen to his story so let us not eavesdrop."
Mom trailed behind me. I tried my best to block out my husband's words as he continued to talk. There was a sense of fear in my heart that if I listened to his story that I was going to find myself in a dark and haunted place. A place I didn't want to be in. Even hearing his warning gave me chills like I could sense that ghost girl he was going to tell the crowd about. I could sense her nearby, and I didn't want to encounter her in any way, so I chose to walk away.
After we walked away, I found myself and my baby walking into my old home in Hardee. Mom was no longer with us. We walked into the kitchen and found a crowd of people there. The dinner table was set with food, but it was set like how one would laig dab (offer food to the ancestors in Hmong culture). There were also chairs set up around the dining table, but they were all empty except for two black metal chairs that had been turned around to face me. Sitting on my right was my niam tais (grandma from mom's side) and on my right was a Shaman man. Standing next to my grandma was Auntie Macy.
A white yarn string led from the table to where my sister and my bedroom used to be. From the bedroom came a lot of noise like conversations, but I didn't pay any attention to what was going on in there. I didn't think to peek inside either. My focus was on the Shaman and grandma.
"What's going on?" I asked them.
"We're doing ua neeb (healing ceremony)," Auntie Macy answered me.
"For who?"
I can't remember if it was Grandma or the Shaman who answered me. It seemed like both did, but the reply was very vague. It was as if they wanted me to know what was going on without telling me exactly what was happening. The meaning of the event was hidden, so to say.
I think I said something along the line of, "That's good."
I have just finished replying when I saw this elderly man sitting behind the Shaman. I don't know when he appeared or how long he had been sitting there, but he caught my attention this time. He was holding a chicken's feet in his hand, turning it left and right as he looked it over. Then, he put it inside his mouth. The Shaman reached over and slapped his man, knocking the chicken feet out of his mouth.
"You!" the Shaman scolded angrily. "You are a grown man, yet you eat like you've not been educated! I just got done telling me ntxhais (little daughter/girl) here that I've just finished ua neeb and everyone needs to caiv (practice abstinence). Whatever you do, do it heal first."
After the Shaman scolded the man, he turned the chicken feet around in his hand until the toes were pointing out at me before he put it back inside his mouth and ate it. I watched him, surprised that the Shaman scolded him so openly in front of all of us and confused at the exchange that just occurred. Yet, I didn't say anything.
A line then started forming between us. I was pushed against the wall with my baby while the Shaman and my grandma stayed on the other side. I watched as these people walked by us, following the white yarn into the bedroom. Each person in line held an empty cup in their hand.
"What are you guys doing?" I asked the wife of one of my cousins who happened to step in line in front of me. "Why are you all carrying cups?"
The wife pointed to the front of the line where the Shaman was. "We're going to go drink the blessed water. The Shaman had blessed those water after his sermon. If you want some, then you better hurry and find yourself a cup before the water's all gone."
Aunt Macy then stepped in line. I asked her to find me a cup if she was going to find one for herself too. She left for a while before returning with only one cup for herself. When I asked her for my cup, she said that she couldn't find any more cups.
"Then, can you hold my baby while I go hunt for a cup?" I asked her. I was getting ready to hand her my baby when she pointed to grandma who was still sitting by the table.
"Give it to Grandma," she said. "Grandma's not doing anything. She can hold your baby."
Grandma smiled as she stretched her arms out toward me. I noticed that both her wrists were adjourned with lots of white yarns.
"Come to grandma," she cooed at the baby.
In reality, my niam tais has already passed away for almost two months. Yet, in my dream, she was still alive and well. She was still her kind, loving, and caring self.
I handed Grandma my baby. "Yes, go to Grandma. Grandma has the warmest and gentlest hands. She'll know how to hold my baby."
After Grandma has my baby, she looked up at me as the baby began to fuss. "Oh me naib (little one), she may be hungry. She's fussing."
I looked over to the windowsill and see a bottle of milk alongside the box of milk powder.
"I'll go mix her a bottle real quick," I told Grandma.
I grabbed the bottle of milk and the box of milk powder. I didn't know how long the milk has sat out, so I poured it out. It didn't stink when I poured it out, and the milk didn't look bad at all. However, I decided I'd just mix a new bottle for the baby. Well, when I mixed the new bottle, I noticed these tiny black objects floating around inside the bottle. I thought the powder has gone bad, but there was nothing inside the powder box. As I peered into the bottle, I realized that there were these tiny bugs inside the bottle that I had just mixed with my own hands. I was appalled and couldn't figure out where the bugs came from.
While I was mixing the bottle, the Shaman kept talking to me. He was telling me that the blessed water was running low and that there wouldn't be much left, so I should hurry. However, I couldn't because the bottle wasn't ready. Then, the Shaman asked if I would like for him to ua neeb again (sing another sermon) in order to bless another bowl of water for me. I was grateful, of course, and told him that if it wasn't too much trouble for him, then I'd really appreciate it. However, if he was too tired, then not to worry about it. I didn't mind at all if the water runs out as long as other people got some.
The Shaman insisted that it was no trouble for him at all. Then, he launched into his sermon. However, when he started his chant (ua neeb), it didn't sound right to my ears. Again, I was distracted by the bottle, so I wasn't paying much attention at first. His chant was more of a background noise to me, but the longer I stared at the insects in the bottle, the more I started really hearing him. The Shaman's chant was actually not a chant at all. He was singing. After every few phrases, another voice would respond to him. When I tuned in to the music, the second voice belonged to a woman. Yet, when I looked around, no one else was singing with the Shaman. It was just him himself.
This is weird, I thought. Why is the Shaman singing instead of chanting? And who keeps answering him? Does no one hear her except me? No one seems bothered at all.
"Is the bottle ready?" Grandma asked.
"Not yet," I answered, shaking the bottle again. "I don't think this bottle is good anymore. I'm going to go rinse it and mix it again."
I woke up after telling my grandma that. Again, while a part of my attention was on the bottle, another part was focused on the Shaman and his weird chant. When I woke up, it was his sermon that troubled me. It wasn't a chant a true Shaman would voice when performing a sermon (ua neeb), but it was more of a song where the soul yearns for its soulmate (seev). The other voice that kept responding to the Shaman's song also troubled me. There were just too many weird occurrences in this dream that unsettled me.
After I woke up, I called Mom and told her about my dream. She made a comment that I might have dreamt about grandma because it's been ib tsug kaum peb hnub (13 days after death) since we've buried her. It has been a little more than 13 days actually. However, Mom's interpretation of my dream was that it was a good sign. It meant that Grandma have found a new soulmate and had married into their family, which was why I saw Grandma with all her blessed strings. The baby that I left with her was actually illnesses. Since I didn't drink the blessed water either, then I don't have anything to worry about. Plus, all those people that were lining up to drink the water already divided us into two sides. We are where we belong.
A few symbolisms that I saw in my dreams:
1. The Red Sash: The meaning of a Hmong red sash is so vast. A red sash is used to decorate a set of Hmong clothes and is used by both men and women. A red sash is also worn by both living and nonliving. It is another piece of cloth that identifies and connects us to our culture and ethnicity. In numerous stories (dab neeg) told, a red sash has also been exchanged between couples as a promise to be tied forever together. When the promise gets broken, the sash is used as a means to an end. In other words, one of the couples would use the sash to commit suicide, which creates a vicious cycle of haunting in the afterlife. On the other hand, a red cloth or a red string is also used to bind, protect, and heal a living person from the paranormal. Red strings are a powerful force to be reckoned with in the underworld when they are in the hands of a Shaman.
2. The Blessed Strings: When we tie these white yarns on people's wrists, we are blessing them with good wishes and kind words. These blessed strings are often used at weddings, soul-calling/healing ceremonies (hu plig/ua neeb), and welcoming ceremonies (especially for newborns). They are used more often now for other celebratory ceremonies, but the three main ones are the ones I listed first.
3. The Shaman: His role in our culture is to guide, to heal, and to protect us from the all evils of the spiritual realm. So to see a Shaman in my dream is a little unsettling. Even though he was there to perform a healing ceremony, his actions contracted his role. It made me wonder if he took on the facade of a Shaman in order to mask his true role in my dream. When my Mom mentioned that what I saw may be the "soul-calling" of my grandma before she wedded into another family in the spiritual realm, it got me wondering if this man was a median. A messenger between the bride's and groom's family, maybe? Yet, he seemed respected.... I don't know what to think.
4. Laig Dab: The dinner table set up to worship the ancestors. The man that appeared out of nowhere and eating the chicken feet at the dinner table was unsettling. If he was sitting at the table, then it could only mean one thing- he was an ancestor. Then, to have the Shaman see him and scolded him on how he was eating that chicken foot just added another layer of strangeness to the event.
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