I am on a "raft," which is really a wooden box floating on a river. This is some college retreat conference and also a tourist shaman experience. I notice the sides of the box undo at the nails and one side falls off. I broke the raft. I take it to the old woman native. She looks at me and suggests I do the shaman course. I don't really want to, but it could be fun. I go, not fully into it with my heart, mostly curious. Mabel is there somewhere. We are floating down a river past buildings where military personnel are living, working and studying. I see one room with women military personnel in a classroom. I see strong, good-looking men walking around. Now I'm in the river and my teacher's helper is supposed to dive and show me how to retrieve the knives he has dropped deliberately. One knife is huge, a butcher knife. Another one is small, a paring knife. I watch and then I go under water and retrieve a knife. The old woman is impressed with me. I am going to be a shaman.