Flying and landing in Brazil, in a big chaotic city with confusing multi-grid streets. It’s strange hearing all this Portuguese now when I studied Spanish (oops).
I go with someone else to the other end of town to listen to a bespectacled old man give a public speech. He’s at the peak of his experience though at his age it’s known his faciluties will soon decline. It seems hard to find a place to listen to him; I take it that I’m supposed to head down some sloping side streets. I notice here that many houses with flat rooves are painted with big Christmas murals. I deduce they leave them decorated like that year round because they only go up there on Christmas.
I end up in the ground floor of a courtyard building, looking up. People looking down from windows inside… I lost the thread of the dream because I got out of bed without finishing my notes… oops again.