Generally dreams are not well understood, at least I find them always somewhat confusing. This one goes like this: I dreamt that I was on a plane with my mother and my little nephew, without any luggage. We had just gone into the plane by curiosity because we had never done it, when suddenly the plane started to fly, with 7 or 8 people inside besides us, and when we were airborne the plane exploded, killing everyone except my mother, my nephew and me. The three of us were uninjured and later, as though nothing had happened, we got into another plane, which neither crashed nor exploded. Sooner than I thought, we were in Miami, dressed as we had been at home, and we went into a church. And when we came out, I saw a beggar at the door. I wanted to give him money, but didn't have a cent, and I was asking myself how we would get back if we didn't have any money. But the same pilot flew us back to Lima, Peru, and when we arrived, my father and my brothers were waiting for us at the airport, very worried. That's how my dream ended. But thinking about it, I realize that my desire to go the U.S. is so great that I even dream about it. But the fact I dream so much about the plane makes me think that perhaps I am never going to leave Peru, or if I do, that something is going to happen to the plane.