Nine days on Takaka Hill in the misty and mystifying Canaan Downs, atop a crystal mountain.
This is how I'd nutshell it: a lot of beautiful people, free hugs and massages, dancing, music, late nights, chai and dreadlocks, not much showering, nor any concept of time.
You'd think that being off the radar and isolated for 9 days sounds like an eternity, but it whizzed by so fast in a big ball of happy hippy fury. Even now I can't believe how lucky I ended up volunteering in one of the best parts of the festival through hitchhiking!
The first day of the festival was music-free, and a relaxed day for people to arrive and set up camp. I hitchhiked from Takaka to the ticket gate, and caught another ride to the camping grounds with some Spanish speaking folk. Me and Israeli Rita crammed into the back of their car with the groceries and my backpack, while the Mexican guy planted himself on the outside of the car with Rita's pack. We set up camp with them at the very back of the fields, and over the next few days their friends started filtering in. By mid-festival, we were a shanty town of about 14 tents, with a makeshift kitchen and dining area and inhabitants of almost every Spanish speaking country (Argentina, Chile, Spain, Mexico), and others who weren't Latin American but spoke Spanish (Kiwi, Czech, French). I was pretty much the only non-Spanish speaker. Crazy! Really warm people, although since the campsite was pretty far away and I wanted to be part of the action in the main areas, I didn't hang out with them that much.
The main area was spread out on a field surrounded by beautiful groves and massive limestone rocks. It consisted of a main music stage, an electronic dance area, a food and clothing market, a healing hub for massages and workshops, the chill zone, the big crater for the opening fire, and Tribal, the home base for drumming circles and African dance. A few areas for compost toilets and 2 showers heated by a wood fire, and there you have it.
After all the settling in, the festival started at night with an opening fire ceremony. The moon was shining and almost full, and droves of festival goers gathered around a huge crater in the middle of the festival field. Drumming music was going at full force when people started lighting the woodpile in the center, and it soon raged into a 15 meter tall bonfire. The music got more intense and soon many of us were dancing around in a big circle. The fire was so hot that clothes started shedding. Of course, it only takes one naked guy to start a chain of nudity. By the end, it was only naked people dancing around the fire (present blogger excluded). After the excitement died down, most went to the electronic stage for some dancing, but I stayed for a cat nap by the flames before my work shift started.
The part of the festival I volunteered at was called the 'Chill Zone,' a big tent with mattresses and a DJ booth, serving up chai and treats for the ultimate chill experience (with the exception of the big dance parties we had).
The one thing the organizers didn't mention when they offered the gig was the fact that the tent was open 24/7, and that we would have to work some bizarre hours. My first shift was 2-6am, and then after that I worked four hours earlier each day. It's funny how you adjust to routines when you're in such a bubble. And since no one ever had the time, it was really easy to hang out for hours and hours. My favorite shift was 10pm-2am, because that's when the dance parties would happen in the tent, so I was dancing and working at the same time. And then when the shift finished, most of the time I'd just stay and help some more. That, or party with people, or wander over to the fire drumming circles at Tribal... and before I knew it, I'd flop into bed at 5am. No matter how many days I told myself I'd try to get to bed before 5am, somehow that was the magic hour for sleep. There was always something to do, someone to talk to, something to dance to!
The chill tent was also the perfect home base, somewhere to belong to and a place to find instant friends in fellow volunteers. You can't complain when you get so many big hugs and are constantly told you're beautiful.. and when there are 3 sets of hands massaging you on the staff mattress in the back of the tent. Or during your shifts when your bosses stay up to help and party, and the only thing you see one of them do is hand out cups of alcohol mixed with ice cream! (yeah, this was supposed to be an alcohol-free event).
Honestly, I don't even know why I bought so many groceries in preparation for this. I didn't have a stove so got really lazy, and was fed by the Latin Americans at the camp, the delicious food in the market, and most of all the constant snacking on free goodies at the chai tent (we made some mean veggie burgers and bacon and egg sandwiches).
On the main stage there were some great music acts, ranging from reggae, electronic/trance, folk, lots of dancey didgeridoo, to even a gypsy-hard metal band. At any rate, lots of dancing and rocking out. Our chill tent also invited DJs and musicians to come and play sets or perform throughout the day, so sometimes the best parties happened in our zone.
Besides all the music, there were tons of workshops everyday in various tents, including yoga, juggling, dance, lectures on the universe etc., massage, you name it. There was too much choice, so much that you wanted to be in 3 places at once. I did African dancing and drumming, sleep yoga, and a deep tissue massage with a portion of it called 'opening your heart,' where we learned a song and sang it to someone while maintaining eye contact. At first it felt so hokey but by the time we rotated around the full circle, it was much easier and felt so cleansing, to be able to connect and let go of all that stranger B.S. mentality that people are caught up in, especially when they live in the city.
Lots of variable weather alongside being up at odd hours meant that I got to see the beauty of the Canaan Downs in all sorts of wondrous backdrops. The weather was pretty crappy for the majority of it, and the sun didn't break out until the last 3 days of the festival. But by then full moon was out too, joined by a low mist that clung to the landscape, so you really felt the magic of being on a crystal mountain.
Somehow, the festival started winding down, even though it felt like it would go on forever. On the day that most public peoples took down their campsites and went home, all the volunteers hung out and had a chill day. Me, Hio and Sina went to the nearby Harwood's Hole and took in the awe-inspiring sight of a limestone wall that climbed high up and plummeted way down into the depths of the ground. It wasn't even a hole you could look down, all we could do was sit on a ledge somewhere down the hole and look dizzily across at the wall. The other lookout was too good to be true, as we sat on another ledge and saw the Takaka River and surrounding valley bathed in the afternoon sun. As for us, we were bathed in that same light, as well as in a feeling of bliss from such a fulfilling experience of both the day and the festival.
That night there was supposed to be a big volunteer party, but it turned out that lots of public folk stayed behind, so there was still music but no intimate bash. The next day I planned to leave with Hio, Imogen and Sina back to Takaka, but we were having such a nice day hanging out with the crew that we gave up trying to leave by dinnertime. That was one of the best nights I had on the hill, with volunteers/crew snuggling up on couches and mattresses pushed together in the chill tent, sleepy music, candles and everyone's hands finding random limbs to massage. Truly a cuddle puddle and good vibes orgy.
The next day we were finally ready to get the hell out. It had been a wonderful 9 days, but staying any longer for the tent takedown would have been too limbo-y. Us 3 girls rode down back into Takaka and proceeded to zombie out for the rest of the day. Our bodies were in crash mode bigtime from the festival, and none of us could function enough to do anything. Eating was almost too difficult. It was hilarious though, because there were so many camper vans and hippies in town that it felt like Luminate continued. We saw tons of people from the festival, so it was a very easy transition coming off the hill. The girls slept by the river while I stayed at Barefoot for two nights (third time's a charm, right?). Actually, this third time did redeem the 2nd experience with all the Germans, because it was very international again and the second night we had a tasty potluck. Better yet, I got to sleep on a double bed in a camper van out back for a cheaper rate, and got some deep post-festival zzzz's on.
My recovery from Luminate took on a very domestic form. At the Saturday market I ran into Liang (fellow volunteer) who lives in town and offered to let me crash at his place.
Guess where I still am! For the last 4 nights I've been sleeping in his man cave in the backyard, and we've been cooking up a storm together pretty much every night. I've been uncharacteristically making lots of desserts.
We've also taken some excursions, checking out amazing limestone rock formations and swimming holes. Yesterday Aaron, another volunteer who lives in town, came over and we hung out all day. He helped me with some wwoofing (ie. me feeling guilty about staying for so long and thus weeding in the garden), we went to the river and finished the night with drinks at the local Roots bar.
Tonight I think we're making a lamb curry feast. I swear I'm leaving tomorrow, but maybe just for the week to nearby Kaikoura or something, because there's supposed to be a huge party on someone's estate in east Takaka next weekend. No regrets on my part about having stayed in Golden Bay for so long though, because it's been wonderful settling in what some call the best part of NZ and feeling like I'm on a relaxing summer vacation with friends back in Canada.
How I'm going to cram the rest of the south island, one more wwoofing gig near Dunedin and hopefully one more week here before I fly out in April.... I don't know.
No idea if it'll work, but it'll be interesting.
The better question is, how do you leave a place that you could call home?
