Participating in Anarchy (a true story)

Bad news! It requires being present.

Definition of anarchy: the organization of society on the basis of voluntary cooperation, without political institutions or hierarchical government; anarchism.

That time I showed up to a non-event with NO money, NO phone and still set up a medical camp that helped 100’s of people have a better day.

The promise of anarchism is evident in its practice. You can only know what that is when you choose to participate in it. Participation requires effort. Participation requires being present.

Most of us are not ready for that level of commitment. To experience first hand an entirely different social philosophy. To consider that maybe society doesn’t have to be this.

There I was, in my 40’s, a helpless cosmic infant flailing about the universe for over two months with no resources before I found myself at Home, a Rainbow Gathering anticipating a couple thousand individuals for the annual prayer for peace and first amendment exercise. None of the usual medical crews were expected this year.

That left Mosco and I the resident medically most-experienced. That isn’t saying much! Admittedly, we have taken a few more classes since our life-saving rescue just a year earlier. Our street cred in this counterculture scene is probably not what most would expect! Like a helpful aunt and uncle vibe.

My entire plan was: do what I can with what I know and when someone who knows better and does better shows up, they can take over. I absolutely wanted other people to take over.

We set up our camp halfway down the main trail, about a 1.5 mile round trip for each load of gear. Mosco caught up with me a few days in. All too conveniently after camp was set. He brought a few of our supplies from smaller events, though nothing close to what we expected to need for two thousand people.

Resourcefully using available art supplies I made signs. Our name was “Midtrail Medical Supply” as I sincerely did not want to be in any way responsible for providing care. I can collect the shit so you can fix yourself, right?

I posted a “wishlist” of common medical supplies at either end of the main trail. Bandaids, sanitizers/cleaners, camfophenique for bug bites, itch ointments, cotton balls, paper towels and hydration packs.

Ticks, chiggers and heat-related problems plagued seed-campers from the onset. The bites itch. Heat makes the bites itch worse. People scratch the annoyance and before you know it, lots of people sleeping outside have open sores. Being the resourceful bunch they are with access to all the medical knowledge on the internet, someone somewhere obscurely recalls the healing powers of mud.

No, not like purified mud for facials and spa treatments. I am describing grown-ass people rolling in greenish, warmish mud holes in search of relief. Like a rhinoceros might. They helped their friends smear it on their bites, too! Absolutely nothing could go wrong in a warm, damp environment with lots of sometimes nude people sharing surfaces.

Supplies near constantly arrive at Midtrail Medical. I thought I had more bandaids than I could use in a single lifetime. Then, Andy used 27 just in one session of treating his bites. We could actually use another round of band aid donations for future events (hint-hint).

Thousands of condoms suddenly materialize. Three large boxes of unexpired condoms – Soul, Magnum and Trojan suddenly in my possession. Mosco still has two of the three bulk boxes of condoms in his garage. Does anybody need a rubber, or 200? Diddy?

Harm reduction believers brought Narcan in several forms and test strips for all types of illicit substances. Plan B and pregnancy tests landed. Someone must have dumpster-dived at Walgreens because a large box of store brand pedi kits, thousands and thousands of swab-like applicators and other hygiene supplies also appeared. Gloves, rubbing alcohol, 4 cases of industrial soaps all delivered in my midst along with naturopathy remedies, tinctures and essential oils.

So many supplies I had to source a tarp to keep it all out of the frequent rains.

There were three days of rain early on into the several week annual communal exercise. It felt as though nothing would be dry again. Fires barely burned. People wore no shoes in an effort to connect with Creator, or because keeping footwear dry became an impossible feat as puddles grew and runoff creeks swelled.

Over two days, I treated FOUR missing toe nails. Apparently, when your feet stay wet for a long period of time it softens the nail. One insignificant toe-stub and that sucker’ll pop right off! That was not on my “weird stuff to see” BINGO card.

Athletes' feet on young men who already had questionable hygiene exploded into debilitating trench foot. Whenever I went on a “house call” to track down an injured person who couldn’t walk, yet were never where they said they would be, I took to yelling self-care messages down the trail. Like a medieval medical caller.

“Keep your feet dry so they don’t fall off! Keep your feet dry!” I have a booming reach-the-back-country voice.

While Mosco and I put in miles upon miles running errands and treating boo-boos we had some new friends hanging out around camp issuing medical supplies to people so they could help themselves. Everyone agreed to toss all the paper products in our fire to reduce biowaste.

Fairy Fuel would pop in and refill the medicinal weed jar with donated weed. It was never below half full even though all the patients and passerby knew where the medicine was to be found. Nic at Nite, free hand-rolled cigarette dispensers, passed by with regularity. We treated their bites and feet as they rolled for other patients.

One of the councils (to be a member of council, you just have to show up for council) that handles the only money at the site voted, in our absence, to buy some of the ointments we requested. They also dropped us off six wash basins so we could better care for injured feet.

Volunteers (every one in anarchy) would pass by and ask what we needed. Some brought us firewood, or hauled water. Others would relay a message or turn up with more paper towels. Sometimes a bag of garbage would disappear.

Two other, more skilled medical people willing to participate did arrive. They didn’t have camps nor supplies to speak of. The supplies we collected were communal and therefore shared freely. One performed a minor surgery to remove a small boulder embedded in someone’s foot. He also stitched up a nasty forearm cut, an accident of camping in the woods. Nothing nefarious. The other person was capable of writing prescriptions and also offered mail-in STD testing.

Giggles found his way to us. He was happy to be a bug bite ointment runner. Dispensing itch relief and bandaids. He thanked us repeatedly for “letting me help.” In his life experiences his offers of service are often rejected.

All of these services are provided by volunteers “free” of charge to the recipient.

It melts my Capitalist brain when I begin to digest the magnitude of it.

Kitchens who provide communal sustenance and cook for main dinner circle heard we were missing meals because we were out treating someone. After that, “Jesus Loves You” kitchen (who has been known to wash homeless people's feet and pick up litter in parks) left us dinner plates on our table.

Other kitchens have other names and other drivers for what they do. Freely. The main dinner circle is always vegan. For several reasons, but the most basic is that's the most inclusive style of food. Everyone can eat it from the Jews camped at Home Shalom to the monks and the everyday omnivore. You can often find meat at Gatherings, just not served at Main Circle.

A library was among the first camps in The Woods. He eventually would also install showers.

I have been battling Plantar Fasciitis for a couple years in my right foot. With all the additional walking, my left heel was starting to feel like my right back when I had to cut short a backpacking trip. I received my first ever acupuncture treatment in a sandy creek bed. He stabbed my right hand several times to treat my left foot. It seems to have worked. I’m amazed. And it was free.

Relief should be free, right?

Our new friends and helpers gave us a break in treating people so we could go get tattoos. We donated a bunch of sanitary supplies to his efforts. I now have a free middle finger on my right butt cheek. I hope the ass-wipers talk about it in the nursing home.

And then, highly communicable MRSA, the nasty cousin of Staph, reared its head among thousands of people with itchy bug bites. Some people were helped to an ER or urgent care in a “nearby” town for antibiotics. Others would wage their battle in Babylon after the Rainbow cleanup crews had long gone home.

We stayed for a couple days of “vision council” but my patience for peopling had waned. We took two pick-up loads of garbage to the dump, paid for with clean-up donations. Then, we brought two unhoused traveling people and their dogs back to Mosco’s where wounds would heal over multiple weeks. We would learn an infinite amount about living as “jobless” nomads on the roads of the United States.

Those Hippie Rest Stop guests are now planting trees on Native reservations in South Dakota.

I will get to the concepts and practices of council/counsel another time. And then some other times I’ll explore what got this group on the fed’s Terrorist list. Ongoing law enforcement and problems with the digital divide even amongst countercultures will be other topics I consider.

There is simply too much to put into this overflow of information. If you’re reading what I am saying, I hope to be making your imagination go bonkers and your dreams for a more cooperative humankind soar!

The links I have included in the text are to more information, as well some of my other pieces that refer to a similar topic.

The naïve DO what the cynic says is impossible.

As always, thank you for reading. Please explore my other little bits of work. I will be adding Book Chat #3 to the next thing. I strongly encourage you to read “The More Beautiful World Our Hearts Know is Possible” By Charles Eisenstein. I am now calling it spiritual-leaning input on how Capitalism affects us and what do we even do about it when the whole planet is about to overheat and die-off anyway? He’s way more articulate than I am. When I read it in his words I feel very little anxiety regarding the very big problems separating us from each other, from our home planet.