I went on a good bicycle cruise this morning (like many mornings in Black Rock City, in fact). Today, I cycled far: across the playa to the Tower of Babylon (a huge 10 story tall tower with a big American flag hanging off the side. I climbed the tower, took some photos, and continued on to The Temple of Forgiveness.
The Temple truly is a special place. Like everything else in Black Rock City, it’s a temporary structure that was constructed specifically for this event by volunteers. It’s an art object, too, but, more so than any of the other art objects, the Temple has a special meaning and purpose. It’s supposed to be the centre for religious worship and spiritual well-being for all people in Black Rock City. Additionally, it’s the place where people can go to heal themselves of negative aspects of their lives, or say goodbye to past loved ones and hopefully attain a feeling of catharsis. Many people leave notes, letters, signs, shrines, artifacts, whatever, to parents, children, pets, spouses, whoever, who have passed on. It’s a very emotional place and after walking around and reading the notes, it was hard to keep the tears back.
Here’s a message left by someone who must have had problems controlling their temper, and hoped that the temple would help them move past it. It says “GOODBYE ANGER”
I didn’t take pictures of many of the notes. They felt too personal.The temple, itself, is a very intricate and beautiful construction. It’s hard to conceive how much work has gone into the place.
How does the temple help people achieve catharsis (a feeling of emotional release, purification, or cleansing)? After everyone who wants to leaves a piece of something in the temple, the whole place is burned to the ground. More on that later, though.I spent most of the afternoon at my camp hanging out with my fellow campers. It was amazing how crowded Black Rock City was by now. I had been here for a week now, and the place was very empty at the start. Now, I was one of 49,000 people here. Tonight was the night of the main event! The big wooden statue of The Man in the centre of Black Rock City would be set alight while thousands of people danced and cheered it on.
The actual burn was preceded by an impressive fireworks display!
Then, there was a huge fireball!
Then, the whole thing was burning, punctuated by more random fireworks.
After maybe half of an hour, the structure was consumed and collapsed to the ground. Everyone cheered! It was great! It was glorious! What a spectacle!
For many of the people there, that was the start of a huge all night party all over Black Rock City. Not for me though. I was supremely tired (too many late nights... not enough sleep.. it was all adding up). I went to sleep.
Sunday August 31, 2008
It was another day of enjoying the company of my fellow campers. Erikas and Catie left in the morning (Erikas was not feeling well). In fact, many people seemed to be abandoning Black Rock City. The day of the Burn was the peak. Now, many people were leaving to try and beat the rush of the official Exodus day (Monday September 1). There were legends of being stuck in traffic for many many hours on the one, long, two-lane road from the Playa back to Interstate 80. Our plan, though, for avoiding the traffic was to leave on the day AFTER exodus. So, even though many people were leaving Black Rock City today, I still had a while to go.
I seemed to have taken very few photos during the day, today, so I assume that I had had done very little, other than chill out (which is perfectly acceptable!)
That night, was when the temple burned. It was a completely different atmosphere compared to the man burn the night before. Whereas the man burn was a party with cheering, celebration, and joy, the temple burn was a solemn occasion. It was very quiet was we watched the beautiful structure burn. There was far fewer people there, too.
It was an intense inferno that generated a lot of heat. So much so, that it created whirlwinds of smoke and ash that migrated downwind.
As soon as the temple structure collapsed, an uncanny thing happened. An enveloping dust storm whipped out of the desert and obscured everything with a biting wind. David and I had to bike back across one mile of open playa in white-out conditions in the middle of the night to reach our camp. It’s a good thing that I have a good sense of direction and had a good feel for the place after being there for more than a week.
That night, I huddled in my tent while the wind and dust howled around me. It was creepy.
Monday September 1, 2008
Today was the official Exodus day. Thousands and thousands of people were leaving Black Rock City today. We said goodbye to many of our neighbours. David left today, too. He’s a really cool guy, and I enjoyed hanging out with him for the past few days. He hitched a ride back to Oakland. After David left, our camp was back to it’s original three people: me, Brent, and Wendy.
From left to right, me, Wendy, David, and Brent.
Brent and Wendy spent much of the day helping collect donations at the exit of Black Rock City. There would still be a small contingent of people living in Black Rock City for about a month. They were responsible for cleaning up every speck of litter and waste, tearing everything down, and returning the playa to its pristine state (or as close as possible). They needed donations of non-perishable food, treats, and beer (especially beer), to keep them going.
I was doing something different that day, though. Even though I had a ride back to San Francisco with Brent and Wendy, and I had a flight booked back to Toronto, I was willing to see if I could get back to Canada in a more glorious manner. I spent some time near the Exodus gate holding up a sign that said “TORONTO” in big letters and “Detroit, Buffalo, Montreal” in somewhat smaller ones. I was seriously trying to see if I could hitchhike home. I’ve never driven across North America before. It would be legendary. Many people managed to get home from Black Rock City that way (especially since a large proportion of the population lived in the Bay Area). I spent some time biking around and asking random Canadians if they were going back to Toronto. I actually found a school bus that was going to drive back to Ottawa (via Toronto), but it was completely full and wouldn’t be able to take me. Oh well, it was worth a shot.
Brent and Wendy were busy for a long time, so I spent much of the afternoon in my camp by myself. I cleaned up and packed a bit. I walked around on MOOP patrols (Matter Out of Place) to see if I could find litter. I helped some of our few remaining neighbours disassemble their art car. I talked to another of my few remaining neighbours. We discussed photography and I attempted to play my didgeridoo for him. I didn’t do so well though. i need practice.
Tuesday September 2, 2008
We spent much of the day packing and loading our truck. It took a long time since we had lots of stuff. We didn’t leave until 3 PM.
It was a long way back. We stopped for ice cream at the first store (LUXURY!). We stopped for Indian Tacos (apparently a popular tradition along the long dusty highway). We stopped at In-N-Out Burger for dinner (OH SO yummy). We dropped Wendy off and unloaded her stuff in Oakland before Brent and I made the rest of the drive back to Sunnyvale. We got back late.
Wednesday September 3, 2008
In the morning I said goodbye to Brent and his parents. He was an excellent host and really showed me many amazing and excellent things at Burning Man. Conversely, after talking to me, he is now thinking of taking a long-term backpacking trip much like mine. I hope he does. It’s really very rewarding.
I got a ride to the Caltrain station in Sunnyvale and took the train to San Francisco airport. From there, I flew to Los Angeles and then back to Toronto.
On the flight back to Toronto, I was sitting beside a man who was on the crew for a Hollywood show. He, and some of his coworkers, was traveling to Canada for he first time to cover the Toronto International Film Festival. Since it was his first time in Canada, I told him what to expect about the weather (no, it won’t be as cold as you think), and where to go and drink, party, and shop. He was astonished when I told him about my seven month trip. How could a person travel for so long? He was one of many in a long line of people I had met on my trip who thought this way. Is it really so astonishing?
I guess it is. Sometimes I can hardly believe what I had just done. I think back to some of my crazy times in Asia and Australia and can barely believe what happened. Much of it was a blur. I’m so thankful I took so many photographs and wrote this blog. I don’t want to lose my accomplishments.
As I exited the plane and entered Terminal 1 at Toronto Pearson Airport, I was euphoric. I had an amazing trip. Ups. Down. Good times. Bad times. I met so many people. I did so many things. But, I was back. It was good. I raced through the terminal to reach immigration before the crowd from the plane. Above the entrance to the big immigration room, there was a huge sign that said “WELCOME TO CANADA”. I know I had seen the exact same sign before... but it was completely different now.
Of course, I had to show the silly customs people my didgeridoo and the crazy mask I bought in Tonga. Quarantine, pests, all that. The customs lady was surprised to hear about my trip. I guess, in the grand scheme of things, very few people do what I did. Which still seems surprising to me, since I met many people when I was gone who were on long term trips, too. Many of them were Canadians (there were definitely more Canadian backpackers than American). I did, realize, though, that my trip was somewhat longer than most peoples’. And there’s more to go...
I exited the secure area of the terminal and met my sister and Hass. They were there to pick me up. It was a happy moment.
I was home.
NOT THE END.
No comments:
Post a Comment