[After my last attempt at writing this installment in the Burning Man Blog evaporized into thin air - courtesy of Blogger's screwed-up code, thankyouverymuch - and since it is currently looking like the freaking artic outside my window, I decided to take another stab at it. You, dear reader, might want to briefly return to Part 1 of Day 3 to brush up on the happenings ...]



So I'm blissfully dozing at the Astral Hairwash, trying hard not to totally fall asleep on my wonderful shampoo volunteer. I decide to make conversation, and as it turns out, she was instrumental in the genesis of this establishment. "In 1997, when I first came to BMan, I got really annoyed that I didn't have enough water and too shallow of an evaporation pond to wash my hair properly," she explains. "So when I returned the next year, I started the hairwash. It's been a huge success ever since. Usually, there's a line down the block, waiting for service." How big of a success can really only be measured by looking at just how big and intricate of an operation this really is.

Talking to Bobalicious (only his playa-name, obviously), co-proprietor of the wet enterprise, reveals the specifics. While the Hairwash may have started out small with 2 volunteers, 2 chairs and a simple tent, it has grown to 18 volunteers and a fully streamlined undertaking over the past 8 years.

The water supply for washing all that hair, for example, is a marvel of enviromental guerilla engineering. Since there is of course no water available in the arid desert, and Burning Man (the organization) doesn't provide anything beyond Porta-Potties, ice and coffee, every drop of liquid has to be hauled into camp (and disposed of without ever touching the delicate playa). This is accomplished with a large U-Haul trailer, packed to the roof with white 50-gallon plastic drums. Two of those drums then sit on a couple of roughly 8-foot-tall wooden towers, from which lines of plastic tubing run down to the tent - fed by a little something called "gravity". Water-saving sprayers on hoses are used to preserve as much liquid as possible while still providing for a refreshing shampoo. The grey water is then caught in a bucket, and lead off via a network of more plastic tubing to the two large, black-plastic-sheated evaporation ponds, where the sun takes care of the rest. A solar pump keeps the elevated plastic drums supplied with water from other drums.

"We evaporate roughly 1300 gallons of water during the 5 days of operation," Bobalicious volunteers. "We also use only bio-degradable shampoo - it took quite a bit of research and experimentation until we found the right one, but we've eventually settled on Herbal Essences. It smells good, and is totally environmentally friendly." Which is important, if you consider shampoo consumption ranges between 2 and 3 gallons for those few days ...

So, re-invigorated by water, bio-degradable shampoo and Burner-chat, I head back to camp to grab my camera and strike out to seize the evening light. Every day, more art pops up on the playa. Contrary to assumptions made by the "Real-Worlders", the art that is created at Burning Man isn't something that is all ready and served up as soon as the population gets there (despite being heavily subsidized by the Black Rock Arts Foundation). Au contraire. It's a work in progress - constantly getting created, built or fiddled with by its creator(s), sometimes even left unfinished, but always endless in variety. It's a visual feast, unrivaled by museums across the world (and by gawd, I have been to a good lot of them).





As night falls, I'm drawn to a couple of newly erected installations - that breathe FIRE! One of them is a triangle, formed by an artful metal-pipe fence that spews fire. Those who dare jump through the fence, are rewarded with a truly unique place to dance in ...



And then there is the Phoenix. Huge, shiny metal spikes jut out of the desert floor, like the broken wings of a giant bird. Its chest is a wooden pyre. Its eyes, beak, and wings come alive with fire whenever a participant pushes the switch-button that controls the propane supply. For this is an entirely inter-active piece of art - one, where you are invited to make the beast come alive with the roar and intense heat of fire at your whim...



I drift on to Center Camp, where I see an old guy, wearing an oversized button on his coat that says "I fucked Larry". For a second I wonder who "Larry" is - then I get it, and I laugh out loud...



A large crowd has gathered at the newly erected "Thunderdome" - a geodesic metal-pipe structure right out of the movie "Mad Max". Upon closer inspection, that's actually exactly what it is supposed to be: an emulation of the movie's climatic fight scene, complete with a Master of Ceremonies, a punk motley crue of helpers, two bungie-propelled fight harnesses, and the thunderous soundtrack of hardcore metal music. Tons of spectators have climbed the dome, and are watching the action from above. I work my way to the front of the cage just as two fierce-looking and half-naked fighters are getting strapped into their harnesses. The audience is going beserk - everybody is yelling and screaming, shaking their fists or chanting a contestants name. As the fighters bash eachother with large rubber bats, the crowd kicks it up a notch until the match explodes into a deafening crescendo. (want a taste? check out this, albeit a bit dark, video ...)



This is Burning Man at its rawest, wildest, its most primal. Just as the playa challenges us to rediscover our most basic human instincts (food, shelter, procreation); frees us from our inhibitions, fears, and societal bonds to be and create as we wish; so it also spurs us to explore and experience life on the edge - and even rekindle the neglected appetite for a kind of live-or-die rawness that we in our cushioned and pampered existences have completely forgotten about ...

Part 4