Return to Burning Man, Day 5 (29th of August 2008)
I sleep a few more hours until just after dawn, and wake up to the coldest morning yet, my breath steaming in the air. I stay inside my sleeping bag with the hood pulled up and smoke through the gap, my exposed hand shaking a little, when a big, bearded guy appears in my narrow field of vision and holds out a cup. "Here, you looked pretty cold. Brought you a chai."
This is Henry the Blinky Guy, who every year sells LED blinkies and uses the profits to bring hundreds more to Burning Man with him and give them away for free. We spend a happy couple of hours chatting, with various friends coming and going to join the conversation and go on their way again.
Just as it's getting comfortably warm, a Center Camp staff member passes by yelling "We need volunteers for the cafe!" I've been intending to volunteer in the cafe anyway and this seems like the perfect opportunity. I put my hand up, get my name in and run quickly back to the Camp of Doom to top up my water before starting work.
The cafe is a raucous, friendly and very busy work environment - there are queues all the way back from all seven or so serving points at this time of day and it never really gets quiet. Supplies are held in trucks parked against the back of the serving area in open bays, we have a tiny covered kitchen in which to wash up and rows of thermal urns for the hot and cold drinks.
It's staffed entirely by volunteers of varying levels of enthusiasm and expertise, often a completely different crew for every four-hour shift apart from a few veterans who are mostly the managers and runners. It's an intricate dance as we move and spin in the narrow space between the counter and the trucks at the back, but spirits are high and Burner love is everywhere. Halfway through the shift the manager screams "Dance break!" and turns the music right up - our queues of customers just have to wait as we dance energetically up and down behind the counter, some jumping up on the counter itself to shake their asses for an appreciative crowd. Then we dive back into our work.
I'm put to work maintaining the row of thermal pump jugs containing milk, soymilk and simple syrup (sugar solution). It's steady but not overwhelming work keeping the jugs full and there's plenty of time to banter (and flirt) with the queues of customers coming and going. The pump jugs are on their last legs, and I discover that for some mysterious reason I'm the only one who can get them to produce with any reliability, so I turn it into a bit of a performance, making a mystic pass over the jug someone has been frantically pumping on with no results, then pressing down on the button and producing a clear stream of syrup or milk. It's fun.
I having enough fun to stay on for the next shift too, making six hours at the counter. By then the full heat of day has descended and we're all pouring sweat as we run up and down with supplies. I'm glad to escape at three and weave back to the camp where a number of the guys are relaxing under the shade structure.
Camp of Doom is composed in large part of Burning Man staff members, forming a good cross-section of the people who make the event work. There are DPW, the hardened multiskilled lunatics who build the city, Gate staff who check cars for stowaways and weapons on entrance, Greeters who give warm welcome and information immediately afterward, Perimeter who patrol the edges of the city looking for anyone trying to sneak in, and a number of others. Bex the camp leader is the Regional Contact Coordinator, maintaining communications with the regional representatives who provide information and support to local burners and proto-burners.
Coming back to Center Camp again I find a marching band contest in full swing. Various bands have formed among the camps around the city, some have been playing together for a long time, others are more recent creations. They are all accompanied by performers and supporters, stiltwalkers, acrobats, and of course spinners and dancers of all kinds. All are impressive but the Lloyd Family Players samba band blow them all away with exquisite timing, charisma and powerful rhythms which carry the crowd away. Center camp is packed like I've never seen it before, and everyone is moving to the beat of the drums.
When the contest's over I walk out onto the playa to see the climax and fireworks over the Flaming Lotus Girls' installation Mutopia. I pass through a forest of neon-lit art cars to reach the installation, a garden of giant flame-throwing plants built out of welded steel. Butane-fueled flame jets flutter from every leaf and flower, haloing the plants in orange fire. It's fully interactive too, the roots of the flowers dotted with levers and buttons which cause leaves to snap up and down and huge flame jets to shoot out at all angles, some apparently within inches of the heads of the crowd.
In front of Mutopia I run into the Camp of Doom again, who are dressed to the nines and indulging in their personal decorations of choice for the week - fake moustaches, bloody noses and lips and missing teeth. They look like a pretty fearsome crew, and they're on the warpath seeking chemical glowsticks, the number one source of moop (matter out of place) on the playa. They get handed out like sweets by some camps, and a huge number of them, once burned out, end up being dumped in the city or the open desert, a vast job for the cleanup crews.
All the Doomers are members of COG, the Coalition in Opposition to Glowsticks, who hand out laminated cards authorising the user to confiscate all glowsticks found. They've actually brought a large net with which to capture serious offenders who try to escape.
We hang out, watch the flame show and talk. I get a chance to talk properly to Mel and Randy, who I've met briefly at the camp. They are the Dublin regional contacts for Burning Man (Mel is from Dublin, Randy from California), and I find an instant and joyful rapport with both of them, particularly Mel - we talk and swap stories for over an hour, barely noticing the time go by.
The Doomers come and go with bundles of confiscated glowsticks, yelling "Doom!" and their new catchphrase "That's some creamy pain!" at intervals, Randy runs into a guy who's wearing the exact same ghillie suit/yeti costume (which prompts a wrestling match), I get told off by a Flaming Lotus Girl rep for lighting a cigarette off a Mutopia leaf with flames whistling past my ears (it seems like a good idea at the time - please note, I am still not drinking).
Finally the group disperses and I decide to walk out to the Man for a last photograph from the top of the tower, but find it already fenced off and under preparation for the Burn tomorrow night. The area around it has become a construction yard of huge cranes and temporary shelters, illuminated by blazing white floodlights from all angles which create a glowing halo in the drifting dust over the night playa.
A few highlights for Friday from the Black Rock City Events Guide:
12:00pm: Ice, Ice, Baby at Camp Arctica. "Make a mad dash to camp arctica to help beat the world record of the most people singing the vanilla ice hit song."
12:30pm: Roaming Playa Ice Hockey Game at Tsunami. "The Lake Lahontan Syncronized Swim Team will be looking for a pickup game with sticks & ice puck. Fishnet stockings are required equipment."
2:00pm: Nuclear Reactor & Fusion Workshop at Pandora's Lounge & Fix It Shoppe. "Come get some basic assistance with Nuclear Reactor and Core Fusion System repair and maintenance."
Continue to Day 6
This is Henry the Blinky Guy, who every year sells LED blinkies and uses the profits to bring hundreds more to Burning Man with him and give them away for free. We spend a happy couple of hours chatting, with various friends coming and going to join the conversation and go on their way again.
Just as it's getting comfortably warm, a Center Camp staff member passes by yelling "We need volunteers for the cafe!" I've been intending to volunteer in the cafe anyway and this seems like the perfect opportunity. I put my hand up, get my name in and run quickly back to the Camp of Doom to top up my water before starting work.
The cafe is a raucous, friendly and very busy work environment - there are queues all the way back from all seven or so serving points at this time of day and it never really gets quiet. Supplies are held in trucks parked against the back of the serving area in open bays, we have a tiny covered kitchen in which to wash up and rows of thermal urns for the hot and cold drinks.
It's staffed entirely by volunteers of varying levels of enthusiasm and expertise, often a completely different crew for every four-hour shift apart from a few veterans who are mostly the managers and runners. It's an intricate dance as we move and spin in the narrow space between the counter and the trucks at the back, but spirits are high and Burner love is everywhere. Halfway through the shift the manager screams "Dance break!" and turns the music right up - our queues of customers just have to wait as we dance energetically up and down behind the counter, some jumping up on the counter itself to shake their asses for an appreciative crowd. Then we dive back into our work.
I'm put to work maintaining the row of thermal pump jugs containing milk, soymilk and simple syrup (sugar solution). It's steady but not overwhelming work keeping the jugs full and there's plenty of time to banter (and flirt) with the queues of customers coming and going. The pump jugs are on their last legs, and I discover that for some mysterious reason I'm the only one who can get them to produce with any reliability, so I turn it into a bit of a performance, making a mystic pass over the jug someone has been frantically pumping on with no results, then pressing down on the button and producing a clear stream of syrup or milk. It's fun.
I having enough fun to stay on for the next shift too, making six hours at the counter. By then the full heat of day has descended and we're all pouring sweat as we run up and down with supplies. I'm glad to escape at three and weave back to the camp where a number of the guys are relaxing under the shade structure.
Camp of Doom is composed in large part of Burning Man staff members, forming a good cross-section of the people who make the event work. There are DPW, the hardened multiskilled lunatics who build the city, Gate staff who check cars for stowaways and weapons on entrance, Greeters who give warm welcome and information immediately afterward, Perimeter who patrol the edges of the city looking for anyone trying to sneak in, and a number of others. Bex the camp leader is the Regional Contact Coordinator, maintaining communications with the regional representatives who provide information and support to local burners and proto-burners.
Coming back to Center Camp again I find a marching band contest in full swing. Various bands have formed among the camps around the city, some have been playing together for a long time, others are more recent creations. They are all accompanied by performers and supporters, stiltwalkers, acrobats, and of course spinners and dancers of all kinds. All are impressive but the Lloyd Family Players samba band blow them all away with exquisite timing, charisma and powerful rhythms which carry the crowd away. Center camp is packed like I've never seen it before, and everyone is moving to the beat of the drums.When the contest's over I walk out onto the playa to see the climax and fireworks over the Flaming Lotus Girls' installation Mutopia. I pass through a forest of neon-lit art cars to reach the installation, a garden of giant flame-throwing plants built out of welded steel. Butane-fueled flame jets flutter from every leaf and flower, haloing the plants in orange fire. It's fully interactive too, the roots of the flowers dotted with levers and buttons which cause leaves to snap up and down and huge flame jets to shoot out at all angles, some apparently within inches of the heads of the crowd.
 |  |
In front of Mutopia I run into the Camp of Doom again, who are dressed to the nines and indulging in their personal decorations of choice for the week - fake moustaches, bloody noses and lips and missing teeth. They look like a pretty fearsome crew, and they're on the warpath seeking chemical glowsticks, the number one source of moop (matter out of place) on the playa. They get handed out like sweets by some camps, and a huge number of them, once burned out, end up being dumped in the city or the open desert, a vast job for the cleanup crews.All the Doomers are members of COG, the Coalition in Opposition to Glowsticks, who hand out laminated cards authorising the user to confiscate all glowsticks found. They've actually brought a large net with which to capture serious offenders who try to escape.
We hang out, watch the flame show and talk. I get a chance to talk properly to Mel and Randy, who I've met briefly at the camp. They are the Dublin regional contacts for Burning Man (Mel is from Dublin, Randy from California), and I find an instant and joyful rapport with both of them, particularly Mel - we talk and swap stories for over an hour, barely noticing the time go by.
The Doomers come and go with bundles of confiscated glowsticks, yelling "Doom!" and their new catchphrase "That's some creamy pain!" at intervals, Randy runs into a guy who's wearing the exact same ghillie suit/yeti costume (which prompts a wrestling match), I get told off by a Flaming Lotus Girl rep for lighting a cigarette off a Mutopia leaf with flames whistling past my ears (it seems like a good idea at the time - please note, I am still not drinking).
Finally the group disperses and I decide to walk out to the Man for a last photograph from the top of the tower, but find it already fenced off and under preparation for the Burn tomorrow night. The area around it has become a construction yard of huge cranes and temporary shelters, illuminated by blazing white floodlights from all angles which create a glowing halo in the drifting dust over the night playa.A few highlights for Friday from the Black Rock City Events Guide:
12:00pm: Ice, Ice, Baby at Camp Arctica. "Make a mad dash to camp arctica to help beat the world record of the most people singing the vanilla ice hit song."
12:30pm: Roaming Playa Ice Hockey Game at Tsunami. "The Lake Lahontan Syncronized Swim Team will be looking for a pickup game with sticks & ice puck. Fishnet stockings are required equipment."
2:00pm: Nuclear Reactor & Fusion Workshop at Pandora's Lounge & Fix It Shoppe. "Come get some basic assistance with Nuclear Reactor and Core Fusion System repair and maintenance."
Continue to Day 6
Labels: burning man, cafe, California, camp of doom, center camp, DPW, Flaming Lotus Girl, henry the blinky guy, lloyd family players, marching band, mutopia, volunteering
posted by Mark at
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