It was the fourth AfrikaBurn. An offshoot of Burning Man, U.S.A.
There were only around 1600 attendees that year, according to the archives on the AfrikaBurn website, but I was told to drive carefully and to look out for pedestrians before I drove in from the entrance to the event.
With this in mind, I drove slowly along the designated area for mutant vehicles/art cars...
... in search of the humans I'd be participating with.
I finally found the camp on the far side, outer ring of the event. Sweaty and already a bit dusty, I jumped out of the car with anticipation.
This is Perfect
People meandered around, doing a variety of things, as I made my way towards the main tent.
A guy on a ladder attaching some canvas to a pole; a couple, towels casually draped over their shoulders, walking and chatting together. It was going on late afternoon and the vibe around the camp was mellow.
Everybody was getting ready for Friday night and the weekend ahead, easing into a slow build towards the crescendo of the Burn.
The burning of the Burning Man sculpture itself.
An artwork at the center of it all and created specifically for the climax of it all. Traditionally on Saturday night of the final weekend in the desert.
I called up to the guy on the ladder to ask if he knew where I could find Josh and he pointed towards a low stretch tent. The stetch tent, containing a communal kitchen, was at the back of another, higher enclosed tent where the decks and dance floor of our camp had been set up.
Josh was busy cooking up a meal in the communal kitchen when I found him.
I thought to leave him to finish up and to take a walk around the Playa, with my basket of gifts, to have a look around and meet some of the other camps and participants. I wanted to hand out some goodies on my walk to get into the vibe and to get the party started.
I grabbed my basket from the car but was told in no unclear terms, by my usually uncommonly unjudgemental boyfriend, that this wasn't the time and to put it away.
Totally bummed, I was.
I've no idea why that was considered an "uncool" thing to do right then. And, quite frankly, the me that I am now would've laughed out loud and told him to fuck right off as I marched off into the dust, swinging my basket of gifts wildly.
But, back then, this was his scene, more than mine, and I respected that. Also...
I was a bit stunned.
This didn't seem to fit at all with what Burning Man, and it's offshoots, were trying to promote.
So off I went, a bit sadly sans my basket of goodies, to walk the Playa and see the set up and some art on my own regardless.
But some of my initial joy and sense of fun was now repressed. And I was more on guard as a consequence as well. My defenses a bit more constructed.
I suppose it doesn't really matter where we are if what we're doing remains the same.
I think we humans do this naturally, by the way. Our constant wariness and observation of the social hierarchy and our place within it.
It's an unconscious thing. An instinctual thing. The ordering, the dynamics and the mechanics of our social groups. And where we "fit" within them. Our "place" within them. How acceptable and accepted we are. Or celebrated we are. By the group pack.
And, conversely, how "unacceptable" we are within these human constructs and constraints...
and so how isolated, or ostracized, we may be.
This points to this constant subtle negotiation of (at its most basic level) our power within social situations...
which is intrinsically connected to, at the deepest level, our sense of safety and our very survival (instinct).
In fact...
I'd suggest being ostracized from the pack is a psychological "death" of sorts in and of itself. And death is something our brain and nervous system is wired to avoid at all costs.
It's pretty easy to understand, then, why we humans often find it so difficult to go against popular opinion and group consensus. Or to even be singled out and/or laughed at for being "different" or the "other".
Isn't it?
Of course... if I had been healthily authentically individuated back then...
someone else's judgement wouldn't have impacted my basket of gifts and sense of adventure at all.
Nor my personal freedom.
While events like the Burns, and psychedelic trance parties, are meant to facilitate a breaking down of social constructs, and imagined borders, barriers and even our Selves, we humans tend to fall into unconscious patterns until we become more aware of our own inner nature and thinking.
I guess over a week or two, as a small-knit community; isolated in an almost desert, some folks had already spun some fabricated fabric of some kind of imagined order, hierarchy and "how we do things" ...
without even being aware of it.
As a newcomer fresh on the dusty Playa, however, it was pretty obvious in the camp I had joined. I also reckon, after living in a small town for the last while, that the smaller the community...
the more narrow and rigid the consensus of what "normal" is can become.
And far more quickly as well.
The fact that there were only 1600 attendees possibly defined "how we do things" and "the way things should be" surprisingly clearly in just over some and some more of ten days.
I've no doubt that as the attendee list grew to the 11 000 strong, at times, that it has become today...
that "the way things are" and "how we do things" has also shifted into wider and more open possibilities. It would have to, wouldn't it?
To accommodate the broader variety of individuals and individual expressions.
If we are healthily individuated enough to be our authentic Selves and the environment is safe healthy enough for us do this.
With up to 75 000 attendees at Burning Man (U.S.A.) these days...
and the open, peaceful way the event seems to unfold despite all of the radical individual expression exhibited...
I think they may be more than onto something here.
I actually can't wait to attend another AfrikaBurn, after going through more footage, to experience the growth and progress.
But principles need to be put into action to work. And some folks will walk them. And some won't. And we will all, probably, do both of these at different times.
Perhaps it was the mild shut down, by a couple of grumpy humans, that led to the bad trip back then.
These days I understand full well that other people's judgement of me is a projection of their own insecurity and fear. But, back then, I had less life experience and understanding. And I was more full of fear and insecurity as a result.
Intending to have a party night, I took some magic mushrooms. And, again, they hit me harder than you'd think a natural substance would. I ended up hiding in the back of the truck Josh was using as accommodation. Almost entirely hiding under a duvet as the sun set and into a few more hours after dark.
Not so fun.
In fact, when "the fear" hits you, if you're on psychedelics, it can be fuckin' terrifying. And this always happens, in my experience, when we are afraid to let go.
Very much the same as in everyday supposedly sober life.
Let go of what exactly, one might wonder.
I guess the simplest answer would be...
Control.
It's all about trust, really.
And, at the end of the day, the only person we really need to learn to trust is ourselves.
But, at AftikaBurn in 2009, I didn't trust myself enough to trust the sweet souls who gathered, one by one, outside that truck to try and coax me back out into the light.
For around two hours I lay in darkness, until they meandered off in defeat. I then slipped out quietly, into the now night...
and silently walked off into The Desert.
Alone.
On that walk until some hours past sunrise, I saw many things. And I met a person. Or two.
I stayed mostly on the outskirts observing. Occasionally I wondered into a camp. I smoked a cigarette. Maybe looked around. Perhaps I had a dance in the shadows. But I stayed on my own, experiencing the various different areas and happenings in silence.
But with absolute presence and total immersion.
There was no conversation or outside perspective to cloud my experience, you see. There was nobody else's judgement to influence my experience. No suggestions. No advice. No detours. No opinions. No distractions from my intimately personal wanderings and wonderings.
When I was uncomfortable I moved. When I was hungry I ate. When I was thirsty I drank. When I was curious I followed. When I was tired I rested.
And so it went.
Towards 2am in the morning, or around past midnight and a bit beyond, I went to sit in the dome in the center of the "binne kring" to enjoy the lighting. "The Wish", I think the installation was called.
There I met another desert wanderer.
We sat together, smoked some cigarettes and we talked for an hour or maybe even longer. Time seemed irrelevant. And, honestly, I don't even remember if they were male or female.
But we had a great deal to share with each other.
And I never saw them again.
I made my way back to our camp, way after sunrise, when it became too hot to walk without water and shade.
I found my friend group from Cape Town in and around the party tent. Familiar and as expected. One of my favorite DJs was playing. He'd been at it for some hours and looked completely exhausted.
I rolled him a joint, gave him a hug and kissed him on the top of his head. Then I went on my way to prepare myself for the day ahead. Alone. Content with this. Comfortable. At ease.
I has no desire to join my group anymore. There was still too much to experience. Still too much to see. And still too much to learn from those I had yet to meet.
But it was abandoning my camp and heading into the dark expanse of the unknown, and those long and sometimes cold solitary hours walking the desert...
that gifted me the fearlessness to continue on my own path and to fully be me at that very special event.
We must enter the desert alone...
to find out, to know and to become who we truly are.
But it would take me 23 more long years of walking in this world, to fully understand and integrate this philosophy.
And I'd have to walk through the proverbial fire, and the utter dissolution of my reality and the many things I thought I knew, in order for this to happen.
Giving thanks to the good humans who responded to the Facebook request on the AfrikaBurn FB page to dig up any photos of AB 2009.
And specifically to Philip Joubert and Jonx Pillemer for giving me access to their rare photos of the 2009 event in particular. 💥
Because mine... 😬
And I forgot to add that this one was especially saved for 
Under some stress here, traveling and back to trying to get it written (and not entirely right) on my phone.
But I'm walking through it as best I can. Always. ❤️ 👣
Buy a t-shirt and supporta fuck broke kinda desperate single mom
an independent artist
Hardened Dreamer
Mother
Peaceful Warrior
Determined Dancer
and Stargazer
still...
Beyond fear is freedom
And there is nothing to be afraid of.
To Life, with Love... and always for Truth!
Nicky Dee
with. All photo editing ans graphics using GIMP and Canva.