Saturday, 9/1/06: The Man Burns
There are all kinds of crazy details that I am remembering bit by bit of various exhibits, and costumes that I saw that do not come into my mind when I review chronologically. The block of ice. Barbie Death Camp and Wine Bistro. The Yum trick, with the man who used various sauces and spices to create any taste. The surreal paintings in the yurt. The Chrysler building wandering the near playa. The statues at Center Camp. The tremendous infrastructure – scaled down to Black Rock size – post office, library, stores, transit, schools – child care – all but groceries. The weird fermented caffeine free non alcoholic tea. Brian’s mom going 6 years in a row. The doughnuts. Cirque Beserk and the kettle corn. The roller rink. Countless more.
I spent most of Saturday at camp, leaving only briefly to walk around with Vinay and Zach in search of the God box, which we never found. Perhaps it had packed up, as it was nearly the end of the week. We also spent some time at two nearby camps, Betsy Sky and Yodel camp. Both were full of boys and girls who seemed around 25 instead of 35. Betsy Sky also had grass and a tremendous amount of glowy toys that we played with the night before. After wandering, we eventually returned to camp and there I remained, holding court with various others. It was odd how one could go days without seeing certain people from the camp if one was on different sleep schedules than those individuals and one left camp at different times than they did. By sitting there, I got to see everyone. Adam Leeds was there, sleeping off his psy trance parties. Erin was around, nursing her still-sore feet. Other camp members, including Vinay, observed that from the looks of the porta potties, health was declining. Personally, I felt great, though I was starting to get a little too dirty. My hair was essentially plastered to my head.
Later that evening, we had a lovely communal dinner before the burning of the man. Macri made the remainder of the delicious vacuum packed Indian meals, along with 5 minute rice and watermelon. We took a group picture. Though nothing significant occurred, that group dinner is one of my fondest memories of the trip. Now, I understand why parents want the whole family to eat dinner together. The feeling of community that is fostered by simple face time is without compare. No matter the quality of the time, the conversation, or the events – simply being with these impressed upon me a sense of belonging.
After dinner, we walked to the playa together to watch the man burn. The burning of the man is celebratory, as opposed to solemn like the burning of the temple on Sunday. It was preceded by an excessive number of scantily clad fire dancers. I enjoyed their varying skill levels and expertise with different items, but there were so many at Burning Man that I was no longer as captivated by the mere concept of playing with fire as I was at the beginning of the week.
The man ignited with a sharp blaze followed by fireworks. I was struck by the duality exhibited by the fireworks and fire. The fireworks were triumphant, technological, and calculated, alluding to man’s mastery and control of fire. I tend to see fireworks on the Fourth of July, at Disneyworld, or some other resort. To some extent, I think they fireworks represent a commercialized and packaged version of fire. However, their presence at the burning of the man was balanced by simple, almost primal flames licking at the base. The bright orange tongues conjured up cliché images of primitive tribal in my mind, as if the man were heralding a return to humanity’s roots. Amidst the swirling desert winds, dust and flame tornados spun off the man as it was consumed. The burn was so powerful that it seemed to create artificial weather in the desert – a heat bubble –that lasted most of the night. As the man fell down, quickly, for it was soaked in gasoline or some other chemical to speed the burning I think, people began to circle around it. I found and then lost Danny. I eventually stayed put to avoid the great quantities of ash in blowing in one direction through the air.
At first, while watching the man burn, I felt nothing. Not emptiness, but I was distracted by the conversations around me and my own desires – food, sleep, a shower, Ben. But I wanted the burn to mean something to me – I wanted to remember something. I decided to reply the events and emotions of my life in my mind while watching the flames consume the wood. I began with my graduation from college. I arrived at an interesting juncture – had I moved to SF with Mary, I still would have been right there, at Burning Man, at that moment watching the man burn. It seems as though the minute details of the paths we take are not always as important as we sometimes imagine them. Journeys should be fluid – perhaps it is better to some milestones and enjoy the ride instead of worrying every day.
After the burn, we returned to camp and several individuals chose to chemically enhance their evenings. I chose to go with Danny and Vinay who had taken acid (I had not), on a walk across the deep playa to view some of the art on display beyond the Waffle house. As it turned out, their doses were duds, and the walk was very enjoyable – though I was exhausted from the start. We moved through the darkness from point of light to point of light, as our headlamp beams could never hope to illuminate the massive night playa. The objects themselves were not always so fascinating – some lit pods, a bonfire, a pagoda, a mailbox. But the journey between them felt like a video game. Sensory deprivation – nearly no sound and only points of light to guide us – almost like a ridiculous haunted house that I visited in Niagara falls. And beyond the lights, beyond the perimeter fence and away from Black Rock City – there was nothing. We walked all the way to the perimeter fence and gazed out into the desert with our headlamps and saw…nothing. Coupled with the realization that we were in a pen, it was at once powerful, terrifying and isolating. Even though I knew I could find my way back to camp, I felt trapped by the darkness and the sheer size of the desert.
Eventually we met up with the others at the temple at 3 am. Vinay, Danny and I arrived a bit early, and slowly most of our camp materialized. Afterwards, I decided to head back to our camp to go to sleep. I walked back with Alex and another kid. Zach had left after the burn to fly back to NY and others planned to leave early Sunday morning. I set my watch alarm to go off at 6 am so that I could witness sunrise, but to no avail. But if I was tired and in need of sleep, so it is.