I was put into some sort of concentration camp or slave trade in India. I don’t know how I got there but I had nothing but the clothes on my back, what little there were of them. I was forced to work from sun-up to sun-down picking out of the fields. One day, there was a large group of workers that would be going to an alternate field and I was at the tail end of the group which meant that I would be finishing up the previous job and have a little time to relax in the shade of a large storage building. As I was doing so, someone I knew suggested that I follow him to a location where I might be able to escape with him. He led me to the shore of a subterranean lake or river and told me to get in. I soon realized that this was some sort of septic system and as we floated along, flotsam and jetsam from humanity flowed along with us. I kept my head above water so as not to co-mingle my intake with the waste. It got darker and darker and I had expected that I would be able to keep my friend near me but we didn’t tether together and I soon realized that I was alone and rushing faster with the current toward the center of the current. This turned out to be a sort of spring that came up about 4 feet from the surface of the water. I could tell that there was a lot of sewage spewed up thru this thing and I would be wise to avoid it. I somehow was able to will myself away from this strange fecal fountain and as I did, I was thrust onto the shore of this strange subterranean land. To my astonishment, there was an elevator. I was wet, and probably a bit soiled, but I got into the elevator and went to the other floor that it stopped at, there were only two apparently. I stepped out into a round room in a building. There were tourists and some tables where sales people were peddling their wares. One of the booths was for American tourists, especially those of the younger party set, so I went over there to see if I could get some information on how I might retrieve my identity and proceed when I had absolutely nothing, no money, no identification. I remember feeling a bit self conscious about my appearance but knew that there was nothing I could do about it and I needed to make the most of it.