There was, first, a tornado of falling rain. Huge, white. Destructive. It was very wide, but clean. And all white. And you could see sheets and sheets of rain falling down within it. But it was a wind tornado. It rose back up to the sky before reaching our simple one room wood home with a cellar (somewhat on stilts, kind of similar but different to some of the nicer brick/wood homes I saw in Burma). Except we couldn't see that since we were in the cellar. We finally just risked it and looked and it was gone.
It was not my home/cellar, and I was with another family. There was also a Nepali child who wanted to hide with me instead of his family, and his dad let him. It was green, with rolling green hills. It was a bright storm, the clouds white instead of black. And the rain falling in the tornado, which was huge.
After it was safe, we came out of the cellar at the back of the house, facing the tornado and rolling bright light green hills and in the distance, light blue mountains, but often covered by the falling white rain. A wooden house with one main floor above and main room. The cellar was really only mostly below ground, not completely. But the roof (floor of the main house) was such solid wood it felt very safe. It had a dirt floor that sloped gently to the back, unevenly.
After that, I visited my grandfather (who in real life is dead). He couldn't hear well. We had this conversation that I can't remember, and I knew he wanted to show me about his father and grandfather. I ran off to put something away, then came back. There are things I'm forgetting, I know. Involving a swimming pool?? Anyway, I came back and he showed me a photo of his grandfather, and started telling me the story. He had thought I had run away uninterested and too young to have heard him say he wanted to show me, but I did, and he was very happy I came back. First he showed me a photo of his grandfather. A color photo. Which would not have been true to real life, of course.
And then I was there, at his old home. Not where my dad grew up. But where my grandfather grew up... so suddenly his grandfather in the photo became his grandfather and both his father. That happened a lot in this dream; one person being two different ones while being only one person, just changing with the need and never fully thought out, typical dream. In all honesty I have no idea where it was or what it was like. But in my dream, it was this old sprawling building that should not have been a house and had multiple rooms. And a big yard. They were wide open rooms, almost buildings in themselves, with no divisions, all connected to each other. There were old things in there too. An old bed made out of a plastic bin with the side cut out, only large enough for a small child, but something a poor person could use. Because of course this was a home of poverty. In a small outdoor alcove between several of the unattached building-rooms was a small fenced in area with plastic covering it, with a sort of green house affect. It also had heating. It was a light sandy color and my uncle (my mom's brother) was giving the tour of the place, but also he was my grandfather at the same time, telling the story of what they did as children. They used to put a tub of water out there and have a sauna room, even though they were poor.
It was like a maze, six or seven rooms. It was almost like it was an old store or factory, that got converted into a home, and it had old furniture and piles of things... wagons and such, stacked in the rooms, like it never was fully moved out of and just abandoned. There, were, however, an old couple who had taken up residency at the front of the house and not wanting to disturb them (the old man was fine with us, but his wife was seen by my sleeping in a bed in a front building-room that they had staked out as their bedroom), we only saw the inside of the back half of the building rooms. But we did go in the yard on the front side of the house, which was actually a back yard. So maybe we saw the front of the house? I'm not sure.
It was, of course, very clear. But I'm forgetting it now. It was very dusty and musty inside this home. It was mostly cleared out, but like I said, piles of old things abandoned there. I can't even remember what they all were. They were clear in the dream. Wagons and sinks and beds and bikes and such, all stuck in dusty corners and waiting to be looked through. Mostly though it would have once been a bright home. Unconventional, but extremely exciting and safe and huge and adventurous for my grandfather in my dream. I stood in the house and looked around and felt envy for their poverty, that it would have them in a home so exciting, even if definitely poor. The sauna, the green wagons (like little red wagons kids pull), the way the home was like a maze that only someone who lived their would know. And a huge yard. It was very nice.
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