I’m walking around to New York, on the west side, trying to get to Port Authority or something. It’s late in the day and I need to get home. I go into the great marble hall of Port Authority, or Grand Central. There are four escalators. Three are going up, one is going down and I take the downward one. I go down, down, down, and when I get to the bottom I need to get a token.
So I get in line for the teller. It’s a very long line, and people are impatient. I take $22 in cash out of my wallet. One of the singles is very torn. The person next to me in line comments on that, but I know it will be fine and I’m just as glad to get rid of it.
There’s a woman next to the line who is telling fortunes. She’s sitting at a table with a deck of cards. She’s doing quite well because so many people are waiting and it’s taking such a long time to get their tokens. I go up to get my cards read by her. It’s not tarot – it’s some other kind of cards.
I can’t remember exactly what she says to me. Actually she reads a ton, and even in the dream, I’m having trouble focusing and remembering what she’s telling me, even though I know I should. After the reading we talk a little bit about Haiti. Is she from Haiti? I don’t know. I explained that I’m interested because I had a French teacher I loved from Haiti. I talked about how it’s something I think about, that there are children who are very hungry just a plane ride away. I feel pretty ignorant saying that, because obviously there are children who are hungry less than a plane ride away, and it’s maybe an insulting stereotype. But she nods her head.
She goes walking down the line to find someone and get a piece of fabric she wants to maybe show me. It’s a kind of sky-blue brocade with gold on it.
Then she’s reading for someone else – a woman who is ‘back-seat reading’. The woman tells the fortuneteller that on her card there are two blind people trying to help each other and failing. And the fortuneteller says she doesn’t see how she got that. We all look at the card. And the woman is pointing to the little circles on the card and saying “those are nandi.” I don’t know what nandi are, but I suggest that maybe you see the same thing on the Tower card in Marseille – those little balls that are falling down from the tower. She doesn’t know what I’m talking about, and I’m not sure I do either. But it is still friendly. 6:23am