Burning Man 2001
I have been to the edge of reason and back; only the problem is you can never fully return once you have gone so far. I have been trying to write this article for a week now about my trip to the Burning Man Festival but nothing I can say will ever really do it justice. When I first thought of going I looked on their website www.burningman.com and it said that Burning Man becomes a way of life for some people, I brushed this off as festival propaganda but once you drive thru the gates you realize that it is true. The elaborateness of the theme camps, costumes and art cars are the work of people who dream about returning all year. Indeed, my travelling companions and I were afflicted with what I called ‘next-year-I-am-going-to-bring-onitis’ from the moment we set up camp. I am going through what can only be called withdrawal right now, not from the alcohol or drugs that the festival is known for, but for the lifestyle and the people that I met.
The festival isn’t for everyone though. My conservative family would never want to spend a week in the middle of the Nevada Black Rock Desert with little opportunity to shower, dirt in their food, putting up with dust storms and naked people walking around talking about how they reached enlightenment on peyote and getting pot cookies from a woman known as Grams. But I have always been the black sheep of the family and from the moment I arrived I felt as though I had come home. Since I am unsure of what to write I will just put forth what I wrote on my first day there – a (Burning Man)
virgin’s first impression of Burning Man: “Currently I am sitting in the middle of the Black Rock Desert on a plastic blow up couch in a shade tent with a bubble wrap floor. Note to self: plastic furniture is not a good idea when it is over 100 degree’s outside and you are wearing next to no clothing. Right now there is sitar music coming from the left side of me and techno coming from the right and some guy on a megaphone who sounds a lot like Howard Stern yelling out ‘blow job’ repeatedly. This is the Burning Man festival. I just saw a hearse drive by with what looks like a gothic cathedral on top of it. And this is only my first day. This is quite the departure from my everyday corporate life. Here there are few rules: pack it in, pack it out, don’t let it touch the ground. The rules here are environmental, not social or political. Dress of any sort is optional.”
That was my first impression. This year was extraordinarily warm so the motivation to do anything during the day was minimal and I didn’t visit as many camps as I would have liked to. I was camping in a group of 6 Canadian girls and we ended up joining forces with a group of 4 guys and a girl from the Bay Area and we spent all of our time together. The last three days I slept a total of 6 hours, none of that on the last night but somehow my energy level soared during the evenings. My partner’s in crime were Sean and Eve: whom I met there and only really knew for 5 days but miss terribly. The night they burned the Man was one of the most awe-inspiring experiences of my life. After the man collapses everyone runs towards the wreckage and circles the flames and all you can see are people, smoke and sparks from the fire. If you stop to think about it, it probably isn’t the wisest thing to do as you stare up at the sparks coming down upon you. So the best thing to do is not to stop and think about it and just experience it: that is the essence of Burning Man.
I can’t believe I have to wait 348 days until I can return.
*melanie
cowgrrrl@coolgrrrls.com
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