Marching Mariachis

Today's dream was set in South America. A place I rarely dream about. I am a hispanic male in my late twenties with a another young man, hispanic also in his early twenties, we are walking down a dirt road in a remote area of Columbia. After a long walk in the hot sun we arrive at a Columbian army base. There is a metal awning with a crowd of about 15-20 men standing beneath it seeking shade from the mid-day sun. Two men from the group walk to the loading dock behind a nearby corregated metal building and knock on the door. This is an ammunition dump. A soldier comes out and is talking to them.

Suddenly, I understand why we are here and what is happening. We are new recruits for the Columbian army. The young man and I are only not Columbians. We are actually Mexican posing as Columbians. We have been recruited by the American Central Intelligence Agengy, The CIA, to infillrate the Columbian army. We have a long term mission to complete for them.

At this point in the dream we are propelled forward in time. I have become a general within the Columbian army in charge of my division of infantry troops. It seems Columbia has now invaded Venezuela ,with the consent of the American government, and the president of Venezuela, Hugo Chavez, has finally died from his ongoing battle with cancer and the country is in civil unrest.

I can see smoke and hear troops shooting and yelling. There are a lot of soldiers everywhere. My Columbian troops are marching abreast down the street. Strangely, they are being lead by a rank of mariachis, these were men handpicked by me.

Now, I must address the country on national television and declare that order has been restored. The people view me in my formal general officer attire It has some elements of a mariachi outfit combined with a true military uniform. The people see me and are comforted by my words. What the people see and what I am experiencing are two different things. While I am speaking I visualize myself with a violin bow in my right hand and I draw it across my teeth and a violin screech comes out. I am certain this has symbolic meaning. The music I am making with my words contrasted with my internal thoughts, feelings and motives are perhaps two different things. What the television viewers may be percieving and what I am doing and feeling seems, at this moment, to be at odds.

A young woman watching on television in Columbia has fallen in love with me and will be pursuing me when I return to Columbia. Then I wake up. History has been made.

So what to make of all this? It seems important to note everyone's attentions at the moment, as I write this, are with the tragic events in Afghanistan. An American soldier has murdered a bunch of civilians. However, there are other events going on elsewhere in the world that are not getting any attention.

The American CIA has a long tradition of getting involved in the affairs of Central and South America. I am having a strong gut feeling things are about to bust loose there and almost no one is paying any attention. We may yet see a Latin American version of the Arab Spring and who knows what that will lead to.