Eve in Search of a Wolf by Ilka Cohen (the false prince TXT) 📕

in its diminishing dimensions. There were other people leaving in the night, many camps packing up, the playa almost emptied of art. Still, not all had closed down yet. At a trailer camp, they handed out free beer of the brand “Blanca Basura” – White Trash. Nice touch. It is worse than Bud Light (if that is possible) and is sold in a six pack consisting of 5 beer and a bottle of whiskey. The Fandango Bar was still going strong, and we met Oliver, Larry and other guys from their group there. Afternoon dance and merriment until we got invited for Indian dinner provided by Daddy O from the same camp.



On the way to dinner, a full and unopened bottle of wine suddenly rolled in front of my feet. I looked around – nobody nearby. Seemed like we were bringing the dinner drink. The playa provides. Sometimes it takes away in the same mysterious way. You drop something and it is gone, all searching fruitless. I can only assume that such items are on their way to where they are supposed to be. The Indian food hit the spot. Then we all headed out together to the Temple of Transition, admired it one more time under the moon light before it, too, went up in flames. This burn was a much quieter, contemplative affair. Still, no reason not to enjoy the last night of Burning Man 2011. Oliver took us to an Irish pub at 2:30 and Esplanade, then back to Fandango. We found more music and company once more and somehow this last night passed pretty much sleepless.


7th Day (September 5)

Tired but unable to sleep amidst the dissolving city, we broke down camp, said goodbye to our friends with a last e-mail exchange and left at 9:30 a.m. Though when we actually left the Black Rock Desert, it was already 3:50 p.m. This is how long the exodus wait can get. I heard rumors about a law enforcement car stolen and recovered the night before and that a laptop with valuable police data was missing from it and the police wanted it and searched all the cars. Perhaps it was just a rumor, we were not searched in the end. We picked up a New Zealander among the people waiting for a ride. He needed to go to San Francisco to catch a plane to Zurich in two days to study electrical engineering there. So he would have to come to Camino, then switch there with Samantha to her car, no problem. PJ had a mandolin and for a while, he played for us, and Samantha and I danced in the desert. The people from the car before blew bubbles. Others came around with water, snacks, some flew kites or used the wait to catch up on sleep. There was no impatience or anger in the air, just making the best of what could not be changed anyway. With an Indian taco stop, a gas and Dairy Queen stop in Fernley, a sobriety test station in Carson City and Burning Man and Labor Day traffic, we finally arrived in Camino at 10 p.m. Samantha and PJ got some coffee and tea and a snack, stuff was repacked, and then the said their goodbyes and I was home and it was all over.

After

Days later, I still wander the playa in very intense dreams and feel a bit disconnected during the days. People have talked about Burning Man as a life-altering experience, and I had taken that for hype mostly. But there is something to it. I finally found the kind of community I would love to live in year round. And when I go next year, I will say “Welcome Home” to everybody. It houses a remarkable mixture of people from all walks of life, ages, races, income levels, gender orientation, political beliefs etc. What brings them together? For one, a strong streak of libertarianism I think. There is remarkable tolerance and acceptance for whatever you decide to do there as well as no pressure to do anything. A place to experiment, be creative and curious, try out new things without fear of being judged. It is not a paradise, and people don’t turn into little hippie angels once they get to Black Rock City. Bikes get stolen. Chris the Ranger talked about lost children, domestic and other violence, rape. Just like in any other city. But people choose not to dwell on it, not to be ruled by their fears, to lower their defenses and engage each other. The harsh conditions help, you will need your neighbors and be happy to help in return. The generosity is amazing. When I thanked my neighbor for the shade structure on the first day, he said, no, he had to thank me for giving him the opportunity to help, it made him happy. That is the key to the gift economy I think. It is not a trading of niceties so you can expect something back when needed. But like stretching out this great feeling you get when you found the perfect Christmas gift for somebody over a whole week and many people. Of course, Burning Man is a utopia and not sustainable in the long run in this form. The money not spend there was spent before on all the things shared. Work and the more tedious chores and pressures of life don’t get in the way. But perhaps it’s possible to salvage a bit of the spirit of the place and its joy for the “real world”. I can understand now why people go to re-entry and decompression parties in the weeks after. If I find one close enough, i.e. Placerville or South Lake Tahoe, I’ll certainly go. Meanwhile, I’ll try to retain a bit of Eve on the playa in me till next year.

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Publication Date: 02-11-2012

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