I had a dream about Uzbekistan last night. It was magical. I could smell and taste and touch. The colors were brilliant and the streets were alive with marshrutkas, honking and weaving about.

My dream was not from 5 years ago, but present-day. My Uzbek sisters were grown and they had not one, but two little brothers. Bahram-aka, ever the proud father, was carrying around his little boys and Fatima-opa was giving me a tour of their home because they had moved since I stayed with them. Hilola had dyed her hair bright blonde and Farangiz and I laughed as Farangiz commented, “Tsk, she just wants to look like Britney Spears.” Maftuna was there too, shyly in the background, and Shahzoda came charging towards me and nearly knocked me off the ground with her exuberant hug.

I tried so hard to remember how to speak Uzbek, but could only manage a few very fragmented sentences. I remember being grateful that my Uzbek family had studied English because that was our best form of communication. Funny enough, as I was in a small shop, I knew very clearly how to ask “Where’s the restroom?” in Uzbek. I was not surprised at all to be shown to the squatty in the back corner.

My family and I decided to go out to a restaurant. I’d been to the restaurant before in real life. It was the fancy blue restaurant on the north side of town. When we walked in, I spotted my dear friend Shakhnoza who happened to be working there. (Which is odd, given that I just talked to her in real life last week and she’s living in South Korea right now working as a teacher.)

It was the happiest reunion.

We had choi and non and then used our fingers to scoop up the osh. It tasted just as I remembered. There was laughter; lots of it. Shahzoda, though older, still giggled just like she did as 7 year old.

The dream faded slowly as I work back in reality. Still half asleep, I said to Kevin, “I dreamt about Uzbekistan. I was with my family. It was happy.” And though they’re not my real family, there is a piece of my heart that lives with them. Perhaps we can meet up in Dreamland again. I love happy reunions.

Next time, let’s add an order of sugared peanuts.