another dream

Last night I dreamt of Paul Farmer:

I walk up the outdoor stairway that leads to the second-story offices. I arrive late for a meeting that has begun to full capacity. Some are sitting, others standing, but all paying close attention to Dr. Farmer's instructions on how to use walnuts to "brush" teeth. He sits, lanky and laid back in the center of a circle of Peruvians, with a bowl of orange-golden walnuts. There is one open seat to Farmer's right and so I take it. Somebody asks him to show how to prepare these nuts to be used for "brushing". Ah, of course! Always ready to teach: "First, you toss the bowl to freshen and prep the nuts." He demonstrates and before the next step he takes a long wiff of walnuts by diving his pointy nose into the bowl. I interrupt the scene jokingly and confident: "Second, you stick your face in the bowl!" He breaks out in laughter and the rest is vauge.

I feared writing about dreams would be dangerous. Does this one reveal a hidden obsession with Farmer? Or perhaps a strange conception of alternative methods for oral hygiene? Does my poor account begin to describe the joy I felt under his guidance for this silly task?

I am here because of him. He was there because of me.

An introduction to Dr. Farmer here: Mountains Beyond Mountains