First (and probably only ^^) Burning Man post

The Guardian training course was pretty simple.  Even though I was starving (My camping stove was full of playa dust and I had to cook dinner on a less than epic charcoal grill.  Everything was still raw when the training time rolled around) - it was pretty much:

• don't let people park bikes by the Temple
• don't let people mess with existing offerings
• don't interfere with anyone who's mourning

My first day ended up being eventful - even though I thought it would be quiet, The 06:00-09:00 shift was always really busy.   Random drunk/wasted people would come in from the dark desert into the Temple area and just collapse in the sand or try to climb the walls.  The Temple is the brightest structure other than the Man for miles - and was a beacon for most of the desert.  At 6:00 - everything is dark - even the clubs have emptied out mostly out of exhaustion.

Close to dawn, I saw a girl come out of the deep desert on a bicycle.  She crossed the lines around the Temple riding furiously, but even with my vision I could see she had been crying.  I didn't say anything and let her go through and parked myself so the other volunteers could see I was there. Her bike was where it shouldn't be but I let it go.

She dropped her bike on the sand and moved to the wall clutching a piece of wrinkled and dirty paper.  She pawed at the offerings already there and pulled a paper binder off the wall and put the folded paper under it.  Other offerings fluttered down to the ground - but she pinned her paper to the wall and turned around without another glance.  She picked up her bike and went back to wherever she came from as the sun came up.  Causing changes like that was against the rules, but I let it go.

I walked over and put the other offerings back, and pinned her paper on the top of them.  I didn't open the paper, but it was pinned tightly to the wall when it burned.  I don't know what it said - it could be the darkest secret ever or something completely banal - but it was her secret, not mine and I let it go.

 It's long since burned up now and gone - and I hope you feel better, whoever you were.  I hope you were able to let it go.