Notes from the Playa: Part 1; Why it's impossible to describe Burning Man
Hello all!
As most of you know, this was my first year going to Burning Man, and I wanted to share some of the experiences I had there.
A few terms:
Burning Man is a huge festival--look it up.http://www.burningman.com/
"The playa" is the part of the Black Rock Desert of Nevada where burning man takes place. It is there all the time, and is just a big flat pan of mud where basically nothing grows.
"Black Rock City" (or BRC) is the official name for the city of about 50,000 in which burning man takes place.
Addresses: BRC is organized like a clock aroung the giant wooden man sculture. (Here's a visual: http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/d/d9/2005-Black-Rock-City.jpg) Addresses are based on clock hands and letters. So it you are facing the man directly, you are at 6:00. Street names of the ring streets are alphabetical and thematic, so these year's theme was evolution and the street names were Adapt, Biology, Chaos, DNA, etc.
At some point I may attempt some chronological recounting, but at the moment I'm just going to give a flavor. (If you have been before, you may not need this part, but my primary audience is my family, so you can go along for the ride if you want.)
There is not possibly way that I can tell you everything that happened at Burning Man, because here is what happens--50,000 show up, and at least 10-20,000 of them have some shtick that they want to share, so in every corner there is something to see or do. Let me share the fairly complete story of one 400 yard walk which took me about two hours; this is pretty typical of how most things went.
In the hottest part of the afternoon, my campmates said "You should go get a steambath at the HeeBee JeeBee Healers before it closes. It's great!"
I was burning hot while sitting, doing nothing, under the shade structure, so being hotter sounded like a BAD plan, but I had it on good authority that it would be GREAT!!!! (tm) so I hefted myself up, strapped on my podbelt (http://podbelt.com/) with water and a book (the essentials) and took my chair with me (for the waiting in line you see.)
I was camped at 7:00 and DNA and the Heebee Jeebies were at 8:00 and DNA, so that's not a bad walk, even at about 4 pm. (I didn't have a watch, so times are mostly my best guess). I set off with my chair, which elicited some heckling and much admiration from the people sitting in the coolness of their shade structures watching me walk. I knew that the steam bath was closing at 6:00, so I didnt' stop much, except to pick up an interesting red paper mache mask that was spread out on the ground in front of a barbecue. They looke all mysterious and tribal, and people were taking them home as souvenirs. When I got to talking to the man who made them, who was sitting 10 yards away watching people take faces and throwing out more when they were gone. He told me that my mysterious mask was a creation of his greatest inspiration--Formula One race car drivers. He doesn't consider himself much of an artist, but burning man gives him a reason to spend probably hundreds of hours hand crafting these things and giving them to an appreciative audience.
The line for the steam bath was already closed because they were running out of water, so I went to go check out the massage tent. All of the healers who volunteered to provide the many varied types of massage were full, so I lay down in the 30 foot chill out dome (domes are very popular) surrounded by people sleeping and meditating and getting massaged, the light filtering down in a cool green, until I was ready to move again.
Back in the heat, the stalwart end of the line was still defending itself against all comers, and they were still coming. I walked next door to the Formula One artist, who saw that I had been denied and offered my in for a cold drink and some of the steak he was barbecuing. (This happens ALL the time. I brought not a single bottled drink and ended up taking home half a bag full of bottles and cans just from gifted drinks, and that's not counting the ones that I left with their owners.) He told me about his art, his 13 years at burning man, and his awesome shade structure covered with the bags that the centrifuges he sells comes in. (I hope that some CA camp hooks up with him, because they work brilliantly and they are free!) Like many people he was camping in his car and had set up a little (dusty) tent for other important supplies, like beer, then ran a frame and fabric over the two so that he had a nice cool place to spend his day.
Finally I wondered on to the portapotties (regularly cleaned by a very efficient crew, and normally not TOO gross, although the ones near the center got pretty sketchy and toilet paper-less. Inside and outside on each portapotty were instructions and quotes on "Excremental Correctness," most of them different. All were variations on the theme of "if it doesn't come out of your body, it doesn't go in the potty. And yes, that means baby wipes too, ya jerk!"
I continued down the street to a giant trampoline (of which there are a surprising number) with permanent marker instructions on the side and jumped for a while, then continued on to the Gspot where I had been to a burlesque show the night before. They do not advertise their presence because they are notoriously difficult to find. When Sublime came on, I took a (fully clothed) turn on the stripper pole (of which there are also a large number, especially on art cars). After enjoying my frosty beverage (which I drank in my own cup, as is considered good manners. By the end of the week, everything I put in the cup tasted kinda the same, and vaguely of bacon.) I got about 10 yards before some guy started yelling about his bar being sticky.
This guy was drunk. Really drunk. And someone had made him bartender. After cleaning the bar (a fully stocked, custom built, nice bar, not a table--there must be dusty bars in garages across california. And dusty liquor) he offered my his best stuff--Everclear. Now, that did not sound delicious to drink, but it did say flammable, so of course I borrowed a lighter and a glass shot glass and lit it on fire. The flames were more invisible than I had hoped, but everyone else lit their cigarettes on the invisible flame and was quite proud of myself. (Fire is everywhere at burning man, and the only goal seems to make it bigger, better, and in coloros, so my little fire seemed perfect logical at the time.)
By then I knew that Chef Juke (www.chefjuke.com) would have dinner on the table, and I didn't want to miss it, so I extricated myself from Zebediah the drunk bartender and headed toward home, where I was greated first by the Neverwas Haul (a 3 story tall rolling Victorina house/art car, http://neverwashaul.com/), a handy landmark, except when it went walkabout), a full sized porch constructed specially for the occasion and overseen by Spock, and L'Homme Flambe, Black Rock City's first and only French restaurant. (Service in a tuxedo, reservations only; they were all booked up.)
In my camp, the Godspell-like cast of "How to Survive the Apocolypse, A Burning Man Opera" were eating, singing, and doing cartwheels; Chef was just making the last serving of delicious noodles and I sat down to eat and go to bed.
And every day, every hour that you were walking around was pretty much like this. So what will follow will in subsequent emails be highlights; two years from now I may remember some forgotten detail and dredge it up. "This one time, at Burning Man...."
As most of you know, this was my first year going to Burning Man, and I wanted to share some of the experiences I had there.
A few terms:
Burning Man is a huge festival--look it up.http://www.burningman.com/
"The playa" is the part of the Black Rock Desert of Nevada where burning man takes place. It is there all the time, and is just a big flat pan of mud where basically nothing grows.
"Black Rock City" (or BRC) is the official name for the city of about 50,000 in which burning man takes place.
Addresses: BRC is organized like a clock aroung the giant wooden man sculture. (Here's a visual: http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/d/d9/2005-Black-Rock-City.jpg) Addresses are based on clock hands and letters. So it you are facing the man directly, you are at 6:00. Street names of the ring streets are alphabetical and thematic, so these year's theme was evolution and the street names were Adapt, Biology, Chaos, DNA, etc.
At some point I may attempt some chronological recounting, but at the moment I'm just going to give a flavor. (If you have been before, you may not need this part, but my primary audience is my family, so you can go along for the ride if you want.)
There is not possibly way that I can tell you everything that happened at Burning Man, because here is what happens--50,000 show up, and at least 10-20,000 of them have some shtick that they want to share, so in every corner there is something to see or do. Let me share the fairly complete story of one 400 yard walk which took me about two hours; this is pretty typical of how most things went.
In the hottest part of the afternoon, my campmates said "You should go get a steambath at the HeeBee JeeBee Healers before it closes. It's great!"
I was burning hot while sitting, doing nothing, under the shade structure, so being hotter sounded like a BAD plan, but I had it on good authority that it would be GREAT!!!! (tm) so I hefted myself up, strapped on my podbelt (http://podbelt.com/) with water and a book (the essentials) and took my chair with me (for the waiting in line you see.)
I was camped at 7:00 and DNA and the Heebee Jeebies were at 8:00 and DNA, so that's not a bad walk, even at about 4 pm. (I didn't have a watch, so times are mostly my best guess). I set off with my chair, which elicited some heckling and much admiration from the people sitting in the coolness of their shade structures watching me walk. I knew that the steam bath was closing at 6:00, so I didnt' stop much, except to pick up an interesting red paper mache mask that was spread out on the ground in front of a barbecue. They looke all mysterious and tribal, and people were taking them home as souvenirs. When I got to talking to the man who made them, who was sitting 10 yards away watching people take faces and throwing out more when they were gone. He told me that my mysterious mask was a creation of his greatest inspiration--Formula One race car drivers. He doesn't consider himself much of an artist, but burning man gives him a reason to spend probably hundreds of hours hand crafting these things and giving them to an appreciative audience.
The line for the steam bath was already closed because they were running out of water, so I went to go check out the massage tent. All of the healers who volunteered to provide the many varied types of massage were full, so I lay down in the 30 foot chill out dome (domes are very popular) surrounded by people sleeping and meditating and getting massaged, the light filtering down in a cool green, until I was ready to move again.
Back in the heat, the stalwart end of the line was still defending itself against all comers, and they were still coming. I walked next door to the Formula One artist, who saw that I had been denied and offered my in for a cold drink and some of the steak he was barbecuing. (This happens ALL the time. I brought not a single bottled drink and ended up taking home half a bag full of bottles and cans just from gifted drinks, and that's not counting the ones that I left with their owners.) He told me about his art, his 13 years at burning man, and his awesome shade structure covered with the bags that the centrifuges he sells comes in. (I hope that some CA camp hooks up with him, because they work brilliantly and they are free!) Like many people he was camping in his car and had set up a little (dusty) tent for other important supplies, like beer, then ran a frame and fabric over the two so that he had a nice cool place to spend his day.
Finally I wondered on to the portapotties (regularly cleaned by a very efficient crew, and normally not TOO gross, although the ones near the center got pretty sketchy and toilet paper-less. Inside and outside on each portapotty were instructions and quotes on "Excremental Correctness," most of them different. All were variations on the theme of "if it doesn't come out of your body, it doesn't go in the potty. And yes, that means baby wipes too, ya jerk!"
I continued down the street to a giant trampoline (of which there are a surprising number) with permanent marker instructions on the side and jumped for a while, then continued on to the Gspot where I had been to a burlesque show the night before. They do not advertise their presence because they are notoriously difficult to find. When Sublime came on, I took a (fully clothed) turn on the stripper pole (of which there are also a large number, especially on art cars). After enjoying my frosty beverage (which I drank in my own cup, as is considered good manners. By the end of the week, everything I put in the cup tasted kinda the same, and vaguely of bacon.) I got about 10 yards before some guy started yelling about his bar being sticky.
This guy was drunk. Really drunk. And someone had made him bartender. After cleaning the bar (a fully stocked, custom built, nice bar, not a table--there must be dusty bars in garages across california. And dusty liquor) he offered my his best stuff--Everclear. Now, that did not sound delicious to drink, but it did say flammable, so of course I borrowed a lighter and a glass shot glass and lit it on fire. The flames were more invisible than I had hoped, but everyone else lit their cigarettes on the invisible flame and was quite proud of myself. (Fire is everywhere at burning man, and the only goal seems to make it bigger, better, and in coloros, so my little fire seemed perfect logical at the time.)
By then I knew that Chef Juke (www.chefjuke.com) would have dinner on the table, and I didn't want to miss it, so I extricated myself from Zebediah the drunk bartender and headed toward home, where I was greated first by the Neverwas Haul (a 3 story tall rolling Victorina house/art car, http://neverwashaul.com/), a handy landmark, except when it went walkabout), a full sized porch constructed specially for the occasion and overseen by Spock, and L'Homme Flambe, Black Rock City's first and only French restaurant. (Service in a tuxedo, reservations only; they were all booked up.)
In my camp, the Godspell-like cast of "How to Survive the Apocolypse, A Burning Man Opera" were eating, singing, and doing cartwheels; Chef was just making the last serving of delicious noodles and I sat down to eat and go to bed.
And every day, every hour that you were walking around was pretty much like this. So what will follow will in subsequent emails be highlights; two years from now I may remember some forgotten detail and dredge it up. "This one time, at Burning Man...."