The dehydration party
If you were ever curious to take part into a social experiment – 3SOF (3 Smoked Olives Festival) was the ideal destination.
First of all – Congratulations to the floggers who used their exquisite intuition for setting the premises for this scientific experiment: they have isolated the target on one breathtaking island on the Danube river. Then, they segregated the groups between the study one (I pity those of us who didn’t bring gallons of water) and the control one (the canny ones that managed to trick the surveillance system and brought all the goods needed for survival). Then… they dropped the bomb: 500ml of water – 8 lei (2 euro).
A lot of theses are written in the name of science and for this one I think I can suspect the title: “The influence of entertainment and intoxicating elements over the alert system of youngsters living in a hostile environment. Case study: 3 days dehydration of an isolated group during a music festival. Location: Chiciu Island Romania”.
I pity those that had to pick up all the data. Based on the level of sweat, dried lips, bleached tongues, irritability, dizziness and uncontrolled behavior near a source of drinkable water (I am shocked that I haven’t heard of any water thieves), the amount of information should be overwhelming. The only thing I can hope for is that they successfully passed their finance exams.
Second of all – That was not a festival. Stop lying to yourselves. It was a party. And from a party point of view – it was pretty nice.
Trying not to be bothered by all the wrong doings (NO fruits, NO vegetables, NO fresh water tank – as most of the camping-in-the-nature-festivals provide), it was very nice.
Looking back it seems that the organizers placed all their whole effort on the visual comfort. The nature did most of the job here though, but I have to give them some credit for cleaning the forest (thus creating a wonderful network of tunnels in between the young trees), for decorating the main aisle using origami boast and swans, for illuminating the food area with wonderful warm lighted bulbs (it was so much easier to love our meat-based food under that light), for hanging lots of hammocks (thumbs up for that!) and pieces of vinyl (not to forget that we still live during hipsterish times). For a week of hard work, it was a good result. But it could’ve been even better!
It could’ve been even better because they have risen expectations.
Having such a good social media communication, posting the vibe of the island day by day – I started dreaming about my 3SOF experience since a month before. I would enjoy the sand, the river and the heat. I dreamed of returning into the shadow of the forest and indulging my taste with a juicy peach, eating a fresh salad, relax in the hammock holding a nice cold smoothie. Yes… I like dreaming. But can you blame me?
Don’t you worry, for when I hit the harsh reality of a badly organized party, I hit it hard: they banned us for entering with our watermelons, all the available food was fried and deep fried. There were no fresh stuff – no fruits, no vegetables. The meat was the main course.
Usually, I am highly adaptable – and not such a harsh critic. I love the mix of music festivals and nature. Thus… I put all this behind me. Literally.
I turned my back to the expensive bar, to the unsatisfying food court, to the waterless camping area and dipped my feet into the scorching sand. Ran to the river and chilled. Having friends around all of the shortcomings seemed to be just a bad joke. We splashed and swam and panicked when the river pulled us into the deep waters. We thanked for still being alive. Found a snake in the tent, got scared and slept in the hammock. We buried ourselves in the sand, made friends with the boat drivers, started a fire, told stupid stories, laughed, hugged and danced on the cold night sand till sunrise. We saluted the sun. At sunrise but especially… at sunset. We heard the seagulls and listened to the poplars’ rash. We felt the wind.
I left the island with a smile on my dried lips.
Best moments are for pictures.