It's nearing 11 pm. The sky is cloudless and drapes us with its midnight blue, alight with the shimmering warmth of a blue moon. We make our way to the gates, not knowing what to expect, but at peace and ready for anything.
Our greeter does more than greet. He dances. For a full minute. We laugh, and make our way through the gate. Rituals await first timers. First up, getting up close and personal with Playa dust. We choose to dive, roll and make snow angels. Felt good. Then we give the bell a whack. Receive a hint about where to go, and make our way there.
We search for a caravan to protect from the sand. Circling. We find a place and make it our own, parked next to a blue Ford Vic and two RVs. Set up the tent, inflatable pads, and sleeping bags. We decide to sleep first, and fall asleep to the dim thumping of techno.
The next morning, I discover one of the 10 principles of Burning Man, and one that I appreciate greatly - the principle of gifting. Enjoying the cool morning, a window slides open, a head sticks out, and my campmate asks if I'd like a cup of coffee. Yes! It somehow tastes better just by virtue of the gifting. His name is One-legged Dave.
The concept of gifting appealed to me greatly. Why is that? After contemplating this question, I came upon the answer. The concept of gifts from strangers with no strings attached and no expectations is a foreign one, at least in the world we live in. The natural instinct is to figure out the catch, the underlying motive, the secret agenda. The old Hare Krishna flower trick comes to mind. Yet here, there is no catch. There is only the gift, and an appreciation of the gifting. It's a beautiful way to polish a humanity that has been dulled by fears and disappointments.
We get our bikes ready and make our bumpy way to the Playa, following crowded streets, passing by all sorts of color and shape. And suddenly, the Playa appears and we are on it. A flat, white expanse, from which emerges startling art and strange buildings. But mostly it's wide open space. It's difficult to convey how surreal this feels when you first experience this. A little like riding into an alien landscape. The Temple draws us. We ride there first.
The Temple's ornate details are mesmerizing. Equally enchanting are the words, pictures, emotions etched in its walls. Stories long remembered, their authors praying for them to be burned clean. It's quiet, except for faint chant music accompanied by flute. It's a thick silence, the sadness palpable. But there's hope too, the hope of fiery release.
I wish I could tell you more, but there's so much that just needs to be seen and experienced. It's a magical world, filled with the collective fantasy of fifty thousand participants, and the wizardry of a world constructed out of an empty desert. We'll be back in 2013. Hope to see you there.
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