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gigiSF Bay Area 112 friends

My photo essay on the Colorado Rainbow Gathering is posted here. It was my first ever trip to this anti American, firework free, utterly quiet (and yet, in it's own way, incredibly patriotic) July 4 picnic in the sun and it was a long strange one indeed. 

http://www.flickr.com/photos/94773880@N00/sets/72157594203930122/

 DEFENDING OUR RIGHT TO GATHER ON PUBLIC LAND

More than 500 people were arrested before the Colorado Rainbow gathering even officially began--aparently the largest number of arrests in the event's 35 year history. The tickets were for "Gathering without a permit." The well-publicized arrests (which resulted in fines of up to 10,000 dollars and court trials set up in an impromptu "Kangaroo Court") discouraged many people from driving all the way to Colorado just to risk getting busted. Nevertheless, 32,000 freaks, Rainbows, Hippies, kids, families, and quite a few Burners braved the long journey (I met people from every state in the US and as far away as Australia and the UK), risked arrest, hail, rain (and worse yet, mosquitos!) and arrived by car, bus, plane, thumb and foot to show their support for our Constitutional right to gather on public land. The Rainbow Gathering, which has taken place on National Forest land for 35 years, remains the last event in America that steadfastly supports this right.

Gathering with the Rainbows

I just returned from driving 2,200 miles across Western America....in search of Rainbows...or rather, the world's largest gathering of Rainbows. The journey began when I met a man named Azul at the Harmony Festival. He said that I was an honorary member of the Rainbow Family of Light...I was the Tribe's chosen Scribe, and that it was my life's work to journey to the Family's annual gathering on pristine public land in the Colorado Rockies and chronicle the event.  For some reason, I felt propelled forward, continually forward, as if I had to go there.

I had never been to a Rainbow Gathering before and had certain prejudices about it. It was, after all, just a bunch of homeless, dirt-encrusted hippies, who hitchiked and thumbed their way because they had nothing more important to do, right? They were out of touch with the present, stuck in a 60s fantasy timewarp and the event had no effect whatsoever on the society at large. But Azul wanted me to go there...and suddenly everyone I met was trying to get me to go there.

A few weeks later on the Solstice, at a fabulous party in a grove of redwoods, I met a man named Rainbow Light, manager of the band Fantuzzi and a long time Rainbow Gathering veteran. "Welcome Home!" he said, and then encouraged me to go. "Don't worry about bringing anything. We'll feed you. We'll take care of you," he said. "Just find a way there."

Originally a man I was dating invited me, he then ditched me for another babe (as they are all wont to do). Then my friend Jamie invited me. Then she flaked. I figured it wasn't meant to be. And then I heard about the arrests -- no way was I going to risk a criminal record for this.

At the eleventh hour, a friend's roomate needed a ride, so I threw a bunch of costumes, water and a tent in my car, and we headed East into the Wild West. Three days later, already dirty, dazed and exhausted, we arrived at Camp Rainbow, somewhere outside Steamboat Springs. We hitched a ride on the shuttle -- crammed in the back of a pick up truck with stinky dogs, baskets of fruit and 16 other sweaty humans, our gear all piled on the roof, precariously and illegally (an experience that reminded me of traveling in Nepal).

We handed a little cash for gas money to the driver, and then hauled our gear, food and water on our backs, an arduous 1 1/2 mile trek up hill at 9,500 ft. elevation in search of our destination -- Yoga Camp. En route, we were saged, smudged, kissed, greeted with a shower of "Welcome Homes!"..we passed through an arch of old hippies who hugged us....and then through a mad, third worldish dervish in the trading circle as kids dangled glass pot pipes and crushed beer cans from fishing rods and said: "We're fishing for a high!" Traders offered handknit hats, macrame, beads, radical books, old Powerbars, batteries, crystals, big jars of what purported to be Syrian Rue, mounds of shells and dirty old rocks in trade for whatever you had to offer, preferably mind altering. (Cash, MC, Am Ex and Visa not accepted, but chocolate, 'shrooms, mary jane, buds, weed or 5MEODMT gratefully appreciated.)   By the end of my first hour there, I was already encrusted with dirt.  Dirt is the great equalizer, the one thing that we all endure at Rainbow, regardless of how rich or poor we are. It unifies us, unites us, and gets under our nails.  There is no escaping the dirt, as soon as you jump in a creek, the dust arrives in the wind and coats you again. 

On my last day at the Gathering, as clouds darkened the sky and threatened to dampen our spirits, a happy crew of musicians appeared in the woods, strolling and singing a cheerful song about love, peace and family. It was the band "Fantuzzi."

We munched on a simple but ridiculously healthy lunch of sprouted lentils, steamed quinoa, spicy Guacamole, and garlic and hemp-enhanced popcorn at the "Warriors of the Light" camp and I was struck by the simple magic of that moment. How often does someone stroll by and surprise you with a song, anoint you with scented oils, place a sparkly bindi on your forehead, hand you a ripe slice of juicy watermellon, wrap a purple feather boa around your neck or paint your face, just like that, just because you're beautiful, just because you're human, just because they get happy when they make you happy?

Remember, for this 500 people were arrested. Happy, healthy, secure, blissed-out people are a dangerous treat to our economy because they are less likely to fulfill that lonely hole in their gut with mass consumption.