Afrikaburn is an experiment in community, an art exhibition, an extreme camping experience, and the best party of the year. Last week I made the trek for the fourth time, and have returned with a head full of memories and a heart full of dust.
Check out this gorgeous photoblog: Afrikaburn 2014
What’s Afrikaburn about? Read the basic introductions in last year’s blogs:
10 things I’ll miss about Afrikaburn
Archetypes and dust-storms: Afrikaburn 2013
The sunsets at this year’s Afrikaburn were truly spectacular. Photo by Kati Auld.
1. Mixed feelings about the R355
Some people, I understand, use the R355 for reasons other than going to Afrikaburn. But those people can’t experience the same mix of dread and excitement when you arrive at the T-junction, and see other cars’ dust rising like breath on a cold morning. This road eats tyres like crackers: the tension between anticipation and blind fear is strong.
2. Water spritzer enthusiasm
Want to feel like a rockstar? Take a water spritzer to Afrikaburn. Photo by Kati Auld
The Karoo has many superpowers, but one of them is the ability to turn absolutely anything into biltong. The only thing that could revitalise the zombies bumbling about in the midday heat was a rough misting of cold water. Taking a spritzer to the Burn is the best way for a person of average talent to feel like a rockstar.
3. Anything is possible
This gingerbread house was mostly fully stocked with sweeties – and the wicked witch was nowhere in sight!
The term “suspension of disbelief” might have been invented for Afrikaburn. From a real-live gingerbread house to a pirate ship, from a cactus tea-spot in the middle of the desert to a robot-rabbit hybrid, people’s creativity was truly unleashed. After a few wide-eyed days of incredulity, the boundaries of reality start to shift. After a week at Afrikaburn, you could have told me that you’d brought a baby dinosaur as your gift and I’d just have wanted to know how you feed it out in the desert.
4. Respect the rebar
Hammering thick metal poles into ground that’s been baked solid for thousands of years? Much easier said than done. (I managed to smash a finger in the process of setting up our camp. I can confirm that the paramedics are highly amusing, but inept one-handed cycling is not.)
5. The Karoo is a fierce and capricious mistress
This dust-devil was only a portent of things to come. By Saturday night, the entire festival looked like this. Photo by Kati Auld.
She will smile upon you, and fill your heart with sunsets and glory. But only a few hours later, you’ll find yourself cowering under whatever shelter you can cobble together as your gazebo, tent, and all worldy belongings are strewn across the desert in a dust-storm of biblical proportions. Yes, this is nobody’s fault but yours. Rebar harder next time.
6. Skipping as a mode of transport
Walking from one side of the Playa to the other at night is no joke. It’s dark and cold and the distances seem infinite. This problem is easily fixed if you skip – you’ll arrive warm, in double-quick time.
7. The sense of community
…And they lived happily ever after! Photo by Kati Auld
Imagine that you’re in a supermarket queue. In front of you are a pair of silver-haired ladies, someone with dramatic facial piercings, a giggly teenage girl and a harangued-looking man in a suit. In the default world, conversations in queues always have a touch of the awkward. At the Burn, though, the old ladies would bring out the chili-sherry from an ancient handbag. The pierced dude and the girl might start chatting about her dreams to become a human rights lawyer. You have a lot more in common with strangers than you’d ever think – and at the Burn, strangers are neighbours.
8. You never know whether you’re talking to a genius or a madman
At 4am, a fellow with Harry Potter glasses cycled up to me excitedly, saying, “I fetched the ingredients!” He sat down and proceeded to wrap lamp-cord around a roll of toilet paper, with a bottle of paraffin under his arm. I was bemused, to say the least. After ascertaining that he’s from Burning Man (so he must know something about safety requirements, I told myself) we ended up playing soccer in the desert – with a fireball that flamed for ten minutes. The moral of the story might be that madfolk are also lots of fun.
9. The quiet moments
This artwork has survived two years now – will it burn in 2015? Photo by Kati Auld
Whether it’s at sunrise or midday, in the middle of a dancefloor or five kilometres out in the desert, there’s always a moment of quiet contemplation. Yes, this is real. This is happening.
10. The feeling when the San Clan comes down
Is it a robot? Is it a rabbit? Either way, it’s a good spot for a dance. Photo by Kati Auld
Months of hard work and preparation, wreathed in icy blue-white flames, finally lose structural integrity and collapse in a glorious heap. If you didn’t howl like a feral wolf-child when that happened – well, I don’t really know what to say to you. Are you sure you were there?
