Planning doesn’t work particularly well here on the playa. In fact, today it doesn’t work all. I’ve signed up for a couple of morning chores at my camp, and after dutifully completing them, I have this idea to go spend the hot middle of the day checking out four events found in the program, instead of napping or laying in the shade like I’ve done the previous two afternoons.
I down a breakfast of scrambled eggs mixed with salt and vinegar potato chips (delicious, you should try it) and get on my trusty bike filled with enthusiasm for the day ahead. It’s a great mix I’ve selected. First, I’m going to go get a facial. Then, it’s off to a camp serving ice cream cones. How cool is that. Then I’m going get a reading to find out what my spirit animal is and finish it all off with a henna tattoo.
Except the facial-giving camp informs me they are doing facials tomorrow, not today, and I must have read the booklet wrong. I’m totally welcome to have a seat and chill for awhile though …. I sit awkwardly for a few minutes, certain I have read the booklet correctly, before giving up and moving on.
The ice cream camp turns out to be demonstrating how to make ice cream with liquid nitrogen, which is not only cool but like minus 100 degrees cold. The camp is filled with many if not most of the children at Burning Man, and their parents, and my odds of getting an ice cream cone appear to be slim to none. I mean what kind of adult pushes little kids aside to get ice cream? I consider pushing aside a few of their parents, but my better nature triumphs and I move on.
The spirit animal man gets his wisdom from turning over a deck of special cards, and I have the misfortune to show up right before a group of eight others. Flustered, he rushes through me, and I’m not sure if it’s a lizard, koala bear, or wolf I share a kinship with but I do get that I need to be following my dreams while having a plan B. Okay. I could have told him that, but I try to put sincerity into my thank you.
I spend about half an hour trying to find the henna tattoos, located at 4:00 in center camp. (Later I learn the Center Camp area has its own clock system unrelated to the main roads.) Hot and cranky, I finally give up. This has certainly turned into a shitty day.
Then I stumble upon friends and next thing I know I’m on an art car with some sort of south seas theme. It takes us to a memorabilia-filled tiki bar tucked into a bus and I’m drinking rum drinks and talking to a psychiatrist about phobias when I meet an older burner at the bar who’s been doing this since the early 90’s and he kisses my hand and suddenly I feel so welcome here.
But there’s no time to linger. The person I’m closest to has friends getting married at sunset and he’s realized it’s getting late. Suddenly I’m following him on my bike, pedaling as fast as I can to catch up with a bridal procession that is heading out towards the temple.
“She’s a trained opera singer,” he whispers to me as we get off our bikes and the bride, dressed in a sort of Victoria’s Secret corset, picks up a guitar and prepares to sing. The setting sun glitters off of the groom’s grey and black sequined tux as he listens to his beloved’s song of love. I think I have never attended such a beautiful ceremony. This has certainly turned into a fantastic day.
Do I have a rule of the road to glean from today’s experience. I suppose I do, but I’m more inclined to say “What rules? What road?”
I do have a song for the day, though. Lights and Music. It captures the sound that accompanies me across this magical desert. Enjoy it at the end of this post.
Once the wedding party starts dancing, I head out to the deeper playa, to enjoy the art that comes alive in the dark. I wander around for hours, marveling at how fast things change, and wondering why the nice folks that put this shindig together even bothered to print up a booklet listing the events.
Maybe they do it just because they have a sense of humor.