2006-03-10

Six months. It's been a little more than six months since Katrina waded ashore, six months from the time things began. The Katrinal Equinox, if you will. Damn.

Looking around some places, it looks like it could have happened just yesterday. Others, like it never happened at all. Slowly, slowly, the rebuilding continues. And to think, just 90 or so days until the next hurricane season begins.

Anyway, it's been almost a month since the last update, where to begin?

The response to the stories about us in the San Francisco Bay Guardian have been nothing short of phenomenal. We've had a lot of volunteers and donations spring from it, all much needed. Read for yourself here: http://www.burnerswithoutborders.org/katrina Tip of the keyboard to Scribe for committing the time and energy to get the story right.

Some people, like Richard Scott, have been here without a break pretty much from the very beginning. The constant exposure to smoke, mold, heat, mosquitos and the like, combined by living in such close quarters, would drive most people nuts. And every day, waking up to go out and dig through garbage and haul debris, and sort the shattered relics of lives.

Some days are different from others--note the 2nd to last item. Several crypts had come loose, and we were asked to return them to place.

To be sure, some of us have hit the wall. And yet we're sticking with it, because it needs doing, certainly, but also because, how to put it, life here is very satisfying. Hard work, good food, interesting people. And a fire that hasn't gone out in over a month.

Speaking of fires, in this last week, we've been spending a lot of time moving firefighting gear. A little background:

After the storm, our neighbors down the street, the West Hancock Fire and Rescue, were left with virtually no gear. Word got around, and departments all over the country sent replacements. And kept sending them. And kept sending them. Long story short, they were buried in excess gear.

We knew from our days of running supplies down into Plaquemines Parish, LA that there were fire stations there in need. One, in particular, was staffed by crews from, wait for it, Winnemucca Nevada. We called them, got a list of what they needed, and after almost a week of sorting were able to deliver seven pallets of gear, including Self Contained Breathing Apparatusus (SBCA), turnouts, and about 4000 feet of hose. All told, it was worth well north of $40,000, and we just gifted it to them. Not bad for a Wednesday.

Woodlawn Fire Department, post drop off.

A couple days ago we were joined by 40 coeds from Wisconsin, and hit five different beautification projects in one day. One area, around First and Hancock Streets, has been virtually wiped clean by our volunteers. Some three square blocks completely rehabbed for reconstruction. Meanwhile, on the east end of town, we cleared every bit of debris from the state line at the bridge over Highway 90 into Mississippi, to the junction of Highway 604, including a notoriously slimy and garbage strewn place known as "the crack house."

In it's place, this Saturday we'll be erecting a gorgeous sign painted by Lisa Benham, which reads "Welcome to Pearlington." Like the Chua Van Duc Buddhist Temple in Biloxi, it will be a positive legacy we can look back to, something beside just empty lots to leave behind.

And who knows, it may be more than that: this week a representative of Doctors Without Borders was here taking notes and photos; apparently we're being considered a model of how a camp can be set up and function in a disaster area.

Shifting gears a bit, people have wondered about what it's like here. So here are some scenes from Camp Katrina living:

Our common area, in the back is the sheet that doubles as a screen, for showing nightly movies. This week's selections:

*Kandahar
*Walk The Line
*Cool Hand Luke
*Six String Samuri

Our camp is blanketed by a WIFI cloud, which Richard and Steve are using in this photo. Learn how it works via this link:
http://news.com.com/Burning+Man+vets+bring+Wi-Fi+to+Katrina+region/2100-1047_3-6044724.html
Pretty clever, that.

Many of us went into New Orleans, about 40 minutes west, for Lundi Gras, the night before Mardi Gras. I believe none went back the next night. Why? Because, well, after all those years on the playa, the bar has been set pretty high for entertainment, and watching drunks beg for worthless beads? Yawn. Beyond that, though, it's a great town. Wonderful people and energy, our hats off to those putting it back together.

Yesterday our Alpha Geek on scene, KK, held an open tech support clinic for people in town, and was immediately kept busy by local ladies trundling in with their virus laden Dells.

When we're done working, or on rainy days when it's not really safe/pleasant to be scrambling through debris piles, we have ways of keeping entertained. Eli has built a super scrabble board, twice normal size, where it's theoretically possible to link two triple word scores ( yes, it counts exponentially).

We also decided a couple sundays back that it would be a good idea to go to a local gun show. Dressed as Santa Claus. Good idea, but let's just say it was a little much for the locals.

Tom and Carmen, moments before KK was hustled out--apparently taking photos in a gun show is a big no-no; who knew?

We have a great tradition we've created over the last month or so. Every Friday, it's Karaoke at the Turtle Landing Tent Bar. Kinda like any tent bar on the playa, cept you pay for beers, and the locals tend more towards NASCAR gimme caps than sequins.

On Saturdays, we knock off at mid day and start working on our art, then that evening invite a few locals over to watch us burn it.

Mark Grieve, with a sculpture made from debris. Stunning.


And even better looking on fire. Fun explaining to shocked first timers why we burn it. "So we can do it again...get it?" Takes em a while, but they do.

One local woman has come a couple times, and said last week "I've never done anything like this before, but I love it!" Yea, we're kinda fond of it too.

Funny quote from around the campfire, while drinking beers with local M. R. Abel: "I know one thing, I've never had beers with people that're coming to demolish my house in the morning." What can we say, we're a full service bunch.

And that's about it for this update. We've heard there are some burners working on disaster relief projects in Thailand, who knows, we may head over there.

Meantime, thanks for reading, and for all the donations of time, energy, money and materials that have made this whole thing possible.