Green Hanab, a Guest House with a Museum, Palmyra, Syria, 1984

The entries below are from my contemporaneous journals from Syria and Africa. They revolve around this photograph, be-cause under the influence of the moon you see, I had the most memorable dream of my life, still true to this day. It was about a man named Green Hanab. Later, I told two girlfriends about it. They both had strong reactions. Judith subsequently had her clairvoyant friend interpret the dream. The clairvoyant claimed she consulted with Saint John. I neither believe nor disbelieve in such things. I do know that there is infinitely more to know than what is known. I also feel that Saint John’s message about unconditional love is something for all of us to consider. His message is in the story immediately following the dream described below.

June 11, 1984
Hitchwalking, Homs, Syria

Adventuring on the Asteroid of Syrie… Went to the Citadel. Went to the Aleppo Museum. Very interesting, archaeologically. Finally got walking 4pm. Series of rides. Rich brown, dry earth. Cherries. Giant insects (three and a half meters high) gobbling up the crops. Men riding on them. Razor sharp teeth. The setting sun sent flickering fire into my head.

June 12, 1984
Palmyra, Syria

I hitched to Palmyra in the hot sun. Arrived about 3pm. Had good lunch. “The ruins are superb.”

Wow! I certainly never saw the likes of this! I spent the afternoon sneaking into the Temple Bel, a huge walled square. I walked up through the complex at dusk, catching a wonderful sight and picture in the rising moon among four four-columned arrays. I felt quite inspired by the ruins and sang as I walked up to the last temple.

There’s a shepherd living in the ruins and his daughters pulled me into their courtyard, which was reeking of animals, to have tea. The two daughters were ripe and had smooth skin and gold teeth, and they poured me three cups of tea while Mama, shaped like a cone (tip up) gorged herself, probably as usual. They had a TV in the open air and the moon hid behind a wall. They warmed me with their eyes. It felt like home, reminded me of Toniça. I went to my hotel to sleep, and had a sensational dream at dawn in which a man revealed a glimpse of his mastery of organization.

What I wrote while in their company:

“Palymra: Fantastic. Forget the metaphors. Drop the analogies. I’ve just been sitting amongst the ruins in a Shepherd’s courtyard on invitation from his daughters for tea. Though they seemed only 14 years old and they smoke and had gold teeth, they were beautiful all the same: clear skin, full lips, deep brown eyes, each with hair flowering out of a bandana, and grabbing me by the hand, literally pulling me into their place for tea. There was a TV blaring and goats (and goat smell) all over. Mama looked like a queen ant permanently set in her throne. Eating, of course. I had three chairs and watched the tube. Above me the moon rose over the ruins.

Mind you, we are right smack in the ruins. The reason I went down to the house was to let them know (thinking it was a crew camp – a crew for “fixing up” the ruins) that I disagreed with the concept of remodeling the ruins at the expense of ruining the aesthetic perfection of what is there (though it was hopeless to explain it since I can’t speak Syrian (Arabic), and besides, their place itself was an eyesore). But when they took me by a storm of friendliness “all the wind came out of my sails,” and I could only respond in kind. They were nine in all, and most of them little children. I was amused and warmed by the scene. I sat there and soaked up the love and the smell of the goats and the warm looks from the girls, considering how much of my baby toe I would sacrifice for a night with either of them.”

I spent the night in a dingy hotel close to the ruins. The proprietor showed me the room. I pointed to the yellowed sheets. I asked him if they could be changed. He paused, then looked at me, bewildered, and said, “But they’re not “finished!” (I imagined that ‘finished’ meant when they turned brown from use!) Fortunately, I had my Indian sleeping sheet.

That night, I had a sensational dream.

Green Hanab’s Guest Houses – A Guest House with a Museum.

“It’s a great idea.” Green said. “It keeps people’s minds occupied.”

A man drove up in a white car. Through the passenger window, I asked him something about the place I was at. Right away I had a hunch he was the owner. He was perhaps 40 or 45, successful, you could tell, maybe a bit too much affluence around the edges. He answered nicely and got out of his car. I made a second attempt at asking my question. In order that he might explain the answer to my question, he invited me into his car.

We zoomed along, going around on a high ‘autostrada.’ The geography was notable. We passed from an area of rich houses to a place lined with hotel-like dwellings. We drove into the downtown. Everything was nice, clean, beautiful architecture, shining.

Green was in every way the archetypal successful person: white shirt, gold jewelry, a bit plump, sandy-colored hair. He was so wealthy it seemed that he owned all we saw. It was all his idea, and he had developed it all. He seemed to have a complete mastery over his environment – so strangely smooth and organized. We went into his office. There was a pretty secretary. The office was a large white, clean place with windows and light. It seemed like a bank headquarters. He walked behind the counter like he owned the place. I felt surprised.

I perused his annual brochure, about the size of this book, glossy. I said, “In the last half-hour I’ve seen so many things that I want?”

“Believe you can have it, then,” said Green, as if telling me a deep and profound secret. I thought of how my mind wanders and all my doubts, and I knew somehow he was right. Just then, I made the effort and believed I could have the things I wanted.

I looked into the mirror and was a bit shocked. It was me, but I noticed how much my hair looked like Dad’s, dark, with a little gray in it, short, and my forehead seemed so large. I looked older, more business-like, but still had a youthful face.

As he offered me a white pill, he said, “A little something to help us relax after a hard day.”

I looked back and forth at the white pill and at Green. I asked him what it was.

“Valium.”

When he handed it to me, I was worried how strong it might be. He had just popped his, but I didn’t know his motives in handing me the pill. I looked at him, I looked at the pill. Pooof! The dream ended.

When I awoke, I had a distinct feeling of disorientation. “I don’t even know where I am or what country I’m in.” I opened my eyes and saw the hall light. I was buzzing with the vision of the dream. So, then and there, I recorded it in my notebook.

My first theory was that the dream held a significant message for a way to gain his wealth. I felt like I could’ve benefited from asking him questions. But I had been reluctant to ask him what he meant. I thought he’d think the questioning unnecessary. I was going to ask if he had a system to instill belief properly.

June 13, 1984
Damascus, Syria

Good evening ladies and gentlemen here at midnight. My dream about Green Hanab’s Guest Houses was too real. I woke up feeling like the ghosts of Palmyra were about, the wind blowing through open windows. After 9am, I took pictures around Palmyra, went to the Arab Castle on the hill, took a dip in the sulfur spring, dashed out at three and was walking to Damascus when a bus picked me up and two young Syrian ladies beckoned me to sit next to them. They offered me candies and cigarettes and their hands in marriage by the end of the ride. “Como usual.” I looked for a restaurant. I found a great place. I had one of the best meals in a year: 1) Scrumptious roasted chicken half, 2) Salad with tomatoes, cucumbers, rich olive oil and dressing, 3) Delicious lentil soups, 4) Pickles. (18 Syrian Pounds.) When I tried to pay, the Libyan people at my table wouldn’t let me. Now I checked into a room. Sharing with a geography student (three beds to a room here). I’ve been playing my guitar up on the roof. I’ve been practicing more lately but I make slow progress. Prediction I made to myself on the 11th: I’ll meet a woman within a week.

Green Hanab Analyzed – a Message About Unconditional Love from Saint John Via a Clairvoyant, 1985

July 6th, 1984

My most secret thought concerns Green Hanab’s Guest Houses, the title of a dream I had in Tadmur, Syria.

Last night I read what I’d written to Gabrielle and she thought it was significant and “weird.” She has encouraged me to analyze Green and his empire. She pointed out that there are the same number of letters in each word:

GREEN HANAB(S)
GUEST HOUSE(S)

She noted: What’s green? My eyes. Green Hanab’s Guest House, a guest house with a museum.

Later, when I was at my girlfriend Judith’s flat in Amsterdam, I also told her about this dream. She had quite a reaction to it. She, like Gabrielle, thought it was significant. When I returned to the USA, I received the following letter from Judith’s clairvoyant friend about the dream.

Amsterdam 15.1.85

Dear Jeff

Yesterday I got your letter. Only because someone phoned off his (sic) appointment, it had to happen. I suddenly had time to pay attention to all you wrote. It was an adventure for me too – what does all this mean. St. John was very clear about it and I think you will understand a lot more about the message for your life. For the short moment I saw you at Schipol I felt the Green quality in you. I think out of fear you forget it many times and cling to the seeming safety of Hanab. St. John is clear in this: it is not meant for you to go down in that.

I am sure we will meet more, either by letter or when you’d been in Amsterdam with Judith… God knows. I hop (sic) you are able to pick up the message and surely I want you to help more if you feel it’s necessary.

With love

Sun v Meyel

(She attached the transcript of her conversation with Saint John.)

Jef 15-1-85

What is the origin of the word HANAB?
St. John – It is no historical name. It is a sound-vibration, especially the A, which is connected to the lower physical aspects of being on earth.

What is the meaning of Green Hanab?
St. J. – In this case the word Hanab is connected to the negative aspects of the physical being on earth. Green is a heart-vibration, which is the positive side of Hanab.

What do you exactly mean by the positive side of Hanab?
St. J. – Hanab is in this case connected with selfish love; Green with unconditional love.

What is the message in this phrase: “Green Hanab’s Guest Houses – a guest house with a museum’?
St. J. – The guest houses of Green Hanab are the guest houses of love. A museum is a place where precious things are collected. Guests are attracted to that museum. Jef thinks his museum, his sexuality, is a precious thing. It keeps many women’s minds occupied. The guest house is the green part of him; the museum is the Hanab part of him.

What then is the white pill?
St. J. – The white pill will help him to keep himself down in the Hanab part of his personality. He has a choice in this.

Does the message of this dream have any significance in Jef’s life now?
St. J. – Jef has a choice in his life now, whether to go on being especially attractive because of the museum. For that he needs a pill to keep down his other, more advanced and higher possibilities. Or Jef can pay more attention to being a Green House in which selfishness has no more a place.

Can you advice Jef now how to work on that if he decided to pay more attention to being a Green House?
St,J. – Decide to use only his sexuality if he feels true, unconditional love. In all the other cases he misuses his energy in a very negative way.

Jef wonders if there is anything to fear or if there is any danger to expect.
St.J. -There is no danger when you are true to yourself.

Can Jef feel the difference between being true to himself and misusing his energy?
St.J. – He knows very well what I am talking about.

Why was Jef suspicious of Green Hanab, because he wouldn’t take the pill?
St.J. – His Hanab part wants him to take the pill. For a time Hanab will always try to confuse Jef when he choses not to take the pill.

Jef wonders if it is good or bad to take the pill?
St. J. – It is not meant for him to take it. But he has a choice.

Jef thought originally the guest house with a museum was a secret of how to make a fortune. He wonders if that is true?
St.J. – After having read the answers he knows it is the Hanab part of him who feels this as a fortune.

Why both women Jef told this dream had such a strong reaction?
St.J. – Women feel how they are partly trapped by a negative part of Jef. They both don’t want it, but it is part of their problem.

Are these women also attracted to some positive parts of Jef?
St.J. – Yes, but the shock of that negative attraction is, unconsciously, great.

Is there anything more you want to tell Jef now?
St.J. – Your real quality is your green quality. You have it in you. Pay attention to that. Trust yourself and send away all negative wishes.

Thank you.