Kafka Dreams

I was awoken by my mobile phone's alarm clock at exactly 3 am today when it rang bloody murder. The reason for this ludicrous behaviour was for, ironically, I needed to film an even bigger alarm clock - the venerated great drum of the Wat xieng Moane temple, one of the 32 drums (every temple has its own drum) that reveberates simultaneously in this little 1 kilometer peninular - that strikes every seven days during the full moon, half moon, and dark moon at 4 am in the morning.

The filming was, for want of a better word, awe inspiring. However, it is 4 am in the morning and despite the sound of the great drum still resonating in the space between my ears, I still need my sleep. I said goodbye to my anthropologist friend, whom we shall call Associate Professor Fifi (due to her French connection, and the fact that she really is an associate professor (something i found out today) who is helping me out in this film. From hereon referred to as Fifi) and returned to my room to sleep.

Then the said incident which inspired the title of this entry happened. I had a Kafka dream.

The details was such that I was in Yangon, Burma for the very first time in my life (note this is a very important element, that I am in Burma for the very first time). It was the end of my time in Yangon and the time has come for me to leave. Unfortunately I am an hour short of my flight to Kathmandu, Nepal and I am still not at the airport. So I rushed my way there in hope of boarding this plane though I know very well that I will not be able to board this flight. Suddenly, on the way to the airport, I passed by an awfully familiar grocery store, and the storekeeper said 'Hi'. I went off my vehicle and returned my greetings and realized that I've been to this stall a million times. I Then realized that this is not my first time in Burma.

I woke up.