The Community

While walking through the mountain town of Katoomba today Patrick and I came across a large group of people, dancing in a circle. It immediately struck me as strange. Not that they were dancing, but rather the fact that they were dancing in the parking lot of an abandoned gas station dressed like extras from Juniper Creek.

I was inclined to bring out the camera. We stopped. Looked.

"Hello, would you like one?" A young girl offered us a pile of what appeared to be newsletters.
"Sure, thanks." I never pass up free words.
"What's going on here?" Patrick always asks the conversation-driving questions, one of his many great qualities.
"We're just out, enjoying day. We all work here," she pointed to a cafe across the street, Common Ground.
Pat: You all work here? Do you all live in the entire building?
Her: Some of us live in the entire building. Others have homes nearby.

The whole time I'm leafing through the newsletter, trying to get a semblance of who they are, and occasionally looking up at the drab, home-sewn garments of the ladies. The dancing circle now has children, lots of children. A lady plays the recorder next to another who plays the violin. The men all have large smiles on their face, women and children at their sides.

Her: Where are you from?
Us: Canada
Her: Oh! There's a girl here from Canada.

She turns and hollers at a girl behind us. As the new girl approaches I can't help but notice how her dark hairline frames the beads of sweat on her forehead. She makes her way towards us with a tray of plastic cups, brimming with golden liquid.

Girl 1: They're from Canada
Girl 2: Wonderful. Would you like some punch?
Patrick: Sure. What's in it? (again, with the important questions)
Girl 2: Oh, I don't know....I didn't make it. (I swear her eyes glazed over and her head tilted to the side when she said it. I swear.)

We both took a cup. It actually tasted alright. Did I detect some tea? Hint of cinnamon?

Patrick: Where did you live in Canada?
Her: Nelson.
Pat: What brings you here?
Her: My heart.
Me: Well that's a good thing to follow!

Before making some "smooth" exit we asked their names.

Girl 1: Urthka
Girl 2: .....to be honest I didn't hear what she said because the first girl's name was URTHKA. Like Earth + Ka!! I don't even KNOW how to spell that!!!

Anyway, we got far enough away to dump the kool-aid (in the bush outside the police station) and opened up the newsletter. That first browse is like a weird dream in my memory. Flashing images and words:

"THERE ARE NO ATHEISTS IN THE IMPACT ZONE"
A Broken Butterfly, by Atarah
Our Master Yahshua
A Very Distinct Culture

I looked on the back cover. Addresses. Australia, Canada, Germany, England, Spain, France, Argentina, Brazil, United States. How did I not know about this Community?? I looked on the cover:

TWELVE TRIBES

I had my first real life conversation with a commune kid. Two of them, in fact. I was scared, but oddly fascinated. Their newsletter is....sloppy, at best, but a wonderful effort. They clearly dig their scene. After all, what's wrong with A Brand New Culture...?

Here are some interesting words from the Community. Here are more. And here.

I just want to say that I am NOT in any way saying that what these people are doing is wrong. Maybe it's right for them. I will not judge. I just think it's creepy and different.