SOMEWHERE OVER THE RAINBOW

I NEVER thought I’d see the day. I’m in a forest in former Yugoslavia. Part of an international brigade, digging a trench. There’s Lance from the US, Pete from Liverpool, Chai from Israel, Raymon from Holland and myself.
After discussing the lyrics of Dylan and Neil Young songs, the stock exchange and explaining to Lance that ‘fag’ means cigarette in Liverpool and Ireland, so it’s alright to say ‘do you want a fag’, the question confronting us is this: should we dig any deeper?
“There’s mass graves around here,” one of the group observes. “That’s why they don’t want us here. This place was closed off to the public. This part of the country was partisan to the Germans in the last war and when the communists captured it . . . well you can guess what happened.”
Welcome to Slovenia. Welcome to the 12th European Rainbow Gathering, where we’ve just finished digging our third specimen shit pit of the day.
It’s not out of any philanthropic zeal for the welfare of my fellow Rainbow travellers that I’ve swapped shovel and spade with these lads in over thirty degrees heat all afternoon, but for more selfish reasons. For two hours earlier in the day I had searched in vain for a newly dug latrine as the original one was full and covered in as the numbers at the gathering swelled continually.
The original loo was a convenience in every sense. On my first encounter, once I had waited for the crouching silhouetted figure of a woman to move on, it was as private as you’re ever going to get at a Rainbow gathering.
“Hope you are enjoying your shit. Try not to use toilet paper. Use water instead and if you don’t know how, do not be too embarrassed to ask for a demonstration. Then cover your recycled porridge with earth (or preferably with ashes). Oh yeah! Try not to fall in. Love you, The Diggers,” reads the sign pinned to the branch of the tree.
In case you haven’t figured out the lie of the land, this is no regular camp site, this isn’t a festival, this is no Féile or Glastonbury, this is Rainbow – an event which is totally unplugged when it comes to gadgets and guitars, but is totally in tune with nature. Or at least that’s the theory. I was here to put it to the test.
* * * * * *
Two days earlier I had arrived in the capital Ljubljana and made my way to Metalkova, a disused army barracks, now a squat and the designated meeting place for the converging Rainbow travellers from over twenty-five countries. ‘Welcome Home’, is the standard greeting, with warm hugs and embraces all round, even for bewildered backpacking newcomers like myself.
There are no leaders or chiefs at Rainbow. It’s everyone for themselves and yet everyone for each other and people like Karen who have now chosen to spend their entire lives this way seem to sense any unease or uncertainty.
“There are some Germans leaving for the site if you want a lift,” she tells me and never was a prompting more timely as I did not relish the thoughts of an overnight in the sordid ruins of Metalkova. Before I know it, I am on my way to Ponikve, near the village of Semic, in a converted luminous yellow truck (which I nicknamed the Yellow Submarine) along with Hans, Andreas, Peter, Maggie, Max and Timo their dog.
We make good progress choosing the narrow mountain tracks in preference to the main routes which are toll roads. Everyone in Rainbow is cost conscious. Maggie takes ill with a stomach complaint and her welfare takes priority over our desire to reach Rainbow. We park in a roadside wood, set up tent and share the food which the Germans carry in the multi-purpose truck.
The white loaf bread (which was purchased instead of whole-wheat as this is three times more expensive), camomile tea, cheese, tomatoes and mustard is a real feast. As we dine by candlelight in the open, flanked by the forest and terraced slopes bearing red-roofed houses on the opposite side, no-one except me seems to mind the colony of ants which share in our nocturnal munchies.
Hans advises everyone to use their own mugs only and to wash them thoroughly for fear of contracting the tummy-bug. Without any offence to others, it is advice worth heeding.
We make tracks and good time, encouraged and excited by the frequency of Rainbow symbols which now mark the route with more regularity, as some obscure radio station bellows out Ben E. King, Randy Travis, Peter Gabriel and The Pogues, a recurring favourite.
By mid-afternoon we hit our destination. At the welcome centre, directions are delivered as to the actual location of the gathering, 4km into the virgin forest with bears and deer as our neighbours.
Strictly speaking there are no rules at Rainbow but the self-imposed observation of the Rainbow Rap means that drugs, alcohol, electrical instruments, radios or tape players are out of bounds. Rainbow is not an excursion for the faint-hearted.
The remainder of the trek is on foot and, as the expansive valley 900m high becomes visible from a clearing in the wood, the first tee-pees are an uplifting sight; smoke from the evening camp fires waft into the air accompanied by the beating of the drums and somewhere back in time you could be entering a camp of the great native American tribes.
On this occasion it is the Rainbow tribe, as the Rainbow family have fashioned themselves largely on the lifestyle of the Red Indians as well as drawing liberally from Celtic and Asian cultures.
* * * * * *
Variously labelled as hippies, new-age travellers and good lifers, the group themselves prefer the term (if one must be used) Rainbow Family. The movement which has its genesis in the first Rainbow Gathering in Colorado 1972 has been building momentum through land projects (communes) and gatherings across the United States and Europe ever since.
The Rainbow travellers speak in terms of personal healing and healing the earth from what they believe to be the devastating damage of the modern consumer society. Many base their philosophy on the prophecy or vision of the Hopi Indians: “When the Earth is sick and the animals are disappearing there will come a tribe of people from all cultures who believe in deeds not words and will help restore the Earth to its former beauty. This tribe will become known as The Warriors of the Rainbow.”
Ironically, this particular Rainbow odyssey to Slovenia started in the Slieve Bloom mountains of Laois, which was the venue for last year’s European Gathering.
As its close, the vision council of the Rainbow decided to bring their karma and harmony to war-torn former Yugoslavia. A seed camp group set out on a peace walk from the midlands and a year later the organic vegetables which they grew were to go towards feeding their 3,000 fellow travellers in Slovenia. Throughout the gathering, which always takes place to coincide with the July harvest moon, many others fast for days, meditate and hold hands in a silent circle for peace in neighbouring Bosnia.
With former flashpoint Zagreb only 80 miles away, there are mornings when we awaken to the sound of what seems like distant sporadic artillery fire, a stark contrast to the normal morning accompaniment of violins or drums being played around a campfire which had not been quenched during the night.
The music at Rainbow is constant, often building from the private playing of a solitary piper wailing out (believe it or not) ‘The Star Of The County Down’ to a Rainbow orchestra, headed by a phalanx of djembe and dollak drums and accompanied by everything from guitars, saxophones, trumpets, didgeridoo and violins to the more exotic ocarina, mbera (African thumb piano), Tibetan chimes and tampura, an Indian string instrument.
Songs range from phonetically learned Red Indian chants, popular hippy favourites from the ’60s and ’70s and I’ve even heard renditions of ‘Dearg Doom’ and ‘The Raggle Taggle Gypsy’. There are of course the Rainbow anthems, which ring out day and night and often as the gathering converge at meal times.
“We are a circle, we are a circle. No beginning, never ending,” is one simple chant. “Earth my body, Water my blood, Air my breath and Fire my Spirit,” another popular hymn.
Always, the elements feature in the Rainbow repertoire.
“The river is flowing, flowing and growing, the river is flowing back to the sea/Mother Earth shall carry me, a child I will always be/Mother Earth shall carry me, back to the sea/the moon she is waiting, waxing and waning/the moon she is waiting for us to be free/sister moon watch over me, a child I will always be/sister moon watch over me, until we are free.”
The music aside, the friendliest sound at Rainbow has to be the conch. The Indian shell which sounds like a horn to signal the two communal meals of the day brings the Rainbow family from all corners of the expansive encampment. But with no clocks at Rainbow, meal times are irregular; breakfast can occur anytime form 10am to 1pm, dinner circle ranging from 7pm to 10pm.
* * * * * *
The Rainbow people may be unorganised, but in no way are they disorganised. While no-one is working against the clock, the gathering often swings into action with sherpa-style transportation of essentials like water, food and firewood, the hordes of Rainbow warriors mimicking the painstakingly slow but purposeful action of the ants beneath their feet.
The gathering is serviced by a variety of field kitchens – children’s kitchen, chai kitchen, blues tea kitchen, salad kitchen, chapatti factory and the main kitchen. Other facilities at the gathering include a Rainbow library, children’s play area and a medicine tee-pee, offering an array of conventional and alternative treatment for any ailments.
“Everyone finds their colour in the Rainbow. If the musicians had to worry about cooking all the time, we would have no music and if everyone just hung around playing music we would have no food,” explains veteran Rainbow traveller Martin from the South of England as he prepares new poles for his tee-pee home.
For washing, however, the arrangements are primitive as the near perfect site is without a river or lake. The makeshift communal washing area is a narrow well, simply equipped with a rope and bucket from which the person ahead obliges by dousing you in water. The sign nearby marked with a skull and crossed bones warns that the water is not for drinking – it is infested with mosquito larvae. You are also urged to use the water sparingly as it is in short supply and finally: “Do not use soap or shampoo as it poisons Mother Earth.”
The Rainbow Gathering is not for the faint-hearted.
The food is vegetarian and basic, always ample but seldom abundant. Porridge and raisins for breakfast and an assortment of vegetables, lentils, nuts, beans, pasta, polenta, salad and chapatti bread for dinner.
As the Rainbow travellers eventually gather for food, hands are held in an ever-expanding circle, and all must wait until everyone wishing to do so arrives. The singing is always good-humoured and the hippy grace before meals concludes with a protracted and drone-like Om.
Two circles are then formed, facing each other and an assortment of bowls filled by the volunteer servers as everyone patiently sits and awaits their turn.With hunger the best sauce, every Rainbow meal tastes like a scrumptious feast.I lost over a stone in weight in just two weeks!
No-one buys or sells anything at the gathering, but trading or bartering is allowed (but not for food). Rainbow gatherings are absolutely free and completely non-commercial. Money to buy food and other essentials is collected in the ‘Magic Hat’, which is passed around at the dinner circle, with people contributing according to their means, encouraged by the sing-along air of the magic hat song composed by a traveller known as Rich In Spirit from New York. The sign at the information centre reads: ‘The Magic Hat, the more you give, the better we live’.
The other main device for maintaining order at the gathering is yet another native American practice, ‘The Talking Stick’. As all decisions are reached by consensus, there are regular ‘councils’ or ‘circles’ particularly after breakfast when the news, rumours, announcements, problems and workshops of the day are considered, often being translated into half a dozen languages. The talking stick is passed clockwise giving the speaker the floor, each in turn giving their opinion until a consensus is reached, in what seems close to the ultimate democratic process.
* * * * * *
After one such breakfast circle, two Germans put forward the idea of a Rainbow excursion to the fashionable coastal resort of Koper, 180km away, to attend a Woodstock anniversary concert. On the line-up are Ritchie Havens, Alvin Lee Band, Mick Taylor’s All Star Band and Donovan. We are to meet and depart one hour after the conclusion of the breakfast circle.
In typical Rainbow fashion, we still have not left the forest car park at 6pm. Total confusion reigns with over one hundred would-be concert-goers turning up, where there is space available for only 70 in the motley caravan of vehicles.
In an attempt to make progress, Frenchman Bernard decrees that musicians and performers should be given first choice on the available space, contending that the Woodstock organisers will recognise Rainbow and permit them to jam on stage. The suggestion is shrugged off and largely ignored and we set off on the excursion.
I hitch a lift in a Citroen Diane, thanks to Germans Lisa and Mickah and I’m accompanied in the back by Tilo. We join in the repeated renditions of ‘Aquarius’ and ‘If You’re Ever Going To San Francisco’, with the neck of the guitar stuck in my nose. Exhausted, we eventually arrive at the Monte Carlo-like coastal resort.
The concert has been cancelled due to lack of interest. Undeterred, the Rainbow travellers improvise and busk on the main casino, hotel and restaurant-lined boulevard of the town.Within an hour 7,000 Slovenian tola are raised, enough for 12 large vegetarian pizzas which are divided out before setting off for the beach.Herbs are gathered for tea, followed by a swim in the Adriatic at 3am.
It’s no five-star hotel for us, but a zany night beneath the stars. At 8am we are rudely awakened by a thunderburst and downpour and on this occasion our departure is more speedy.
* * * * * *
Back at the gathering, its fun and friendship, smiles and support. That said, the contrasting lifestyle away from what some refer to as the ‘other reality’ and others less generously as ‘Babylon’, can be a lonesome experience in which you are often left with only the constant cacophony of the giant grasshoppers as your only chorus of company.
The grasshoppers along with the ants and earwigs have to be expelled in an early morning eviction ritual which starts your day. Outside of the shade and sanctuary of your tent, the choice is all yours, for at Rainbow more than anywhere else, the day is what you make it.
There are workshops on intimacy, building a Celtic sweat lodge, belly dancing, astrology, a Hungarian land project, Rainbow songs, psychedelics, herbs, healing with music, taiqi, fatherhood, dreams, African dance, earth ships, overtones and something called galactic tantra . . .
Amidst all of these cosmic activities, a tractor and tanker of water drives up through the camp, a sight which grates on many of the travellers. Once again the hot weather and site have combined to deprive the gathering of drinking water. The washing water has also run dry.
“We are not ready to survive on our own, even though we think we are. It is a learning experience for us all,” shrugs Daniel from Tel Aviv.
The Rainbow Family – not the chosen few, but the few who have chosen.

DON’T WORRY, be hippy!
How to hack it in Hippydom.
Having two cars in the drive, a swimming pool out the back and your kids in the best colleges, don’t count for much at Rainbow.
And while everyone is equal on the side of a mountain there are ways you can look cool and show that you know where it’s at.
• Get a tee-pee. They are definitely the address to have at Rainbow. At night you can light the fire and enjoy the company of your friends in the comfort of your own home.
• The spirit of Bob Marley lives on and dreadlocks are definitely the chosen hairstyle.
• Nudity is still in vogue, but milky white skin is not cool. Naturally bronzed bodies are preferred.
• Beads, crystals, medallions, earrings and bells (dangling from your ankles) are all useful accessories and make for great spontaneous gifts. Anything symbolising the moon, sun or rainbow are a sure hit.
• Multi-coloured clothing is a must, although flowing white robes and managing to keep them white gets top marks in the sartorial stakes.
• A musical instrument is worth its weight in gold. Drums remain a favourite. Even being able to strum a few chords and rattle off a few bars of ‘Dirty Old Town’ will get you out. For extra cool points check out something more exotic like a didgeridoo.
• Look after those pearly whites, a pleasant smile is a must at Rainbow.
• Know your signs of the zodiac and astrology. Always a great conversation piece.
• Speaking of which a second (or third) language wouldn’t go astray. While almost everyone speaks a little English, nothing is as bad as being left out of the chat around the German campfire.
• A spade, water containers (of all sizes) and pots and pans for cooking are vital.
• A truck or van are right up there with the tee-pee. Especially if it’s a converted army vehicle, ambulance, or fire tender. Useful for carrying your tee-pee and a bike – a favourite pollution-free mode of transport.
• Finally, practice your hugging – it’s all the rave!