It was nearly morning when I woke up in the backseat of my friend's car to find we had taken the backroads in efforts to avoid traffic on our way to Rothbury Michigan. And it worked. A large clearing in the forest we were driving through was only half filled with cars, queuing for entry to the festival grounds. The sun was just beginning to rise, as well as our excitement. Soon, the entire field was filled with rows of cars stuffed with camping gear, party supplies, and anxious campers. We climbed on top our vehicles to take in the view. I had never seen so many people headed in one direction in my entire life. Electric Forest 2015 was the first and largest music festival I have ever attended, and though it was the most fun I've had in my life so far, I was met with an initial consequence of disorientation.
The first thing we were supposed to do when we were admitted to our campsite was, of course, set up camp. Only a few in our group had been to festivals before, but never one like this. All around us, campers pitched their tents, set up their chairs, and had settled in after maybe 15 minutes. Our group was a little more awkward, and our campsite was one of the last to take shape. I didn't know it until a little while later that day, but I really wasn't acting like myself. I was very quiet, I didn't know how to react or respond to my friends, much less strangers. There was always a constant chatter at the campground, and I never figured out if I was allowed to participate in the conversation with our neighbors, since personal space was very limited.
Once we got inside the forest where the stages were set, everything sort of lit up. I still didn't know how to fit in here, everyone around me was wearing fun colorful clothes and seemed to follow a general flow.
It's a little embarrassing, but it took me a full two days to really get the feel of the place. My friends were worried, but I assured them it was just crowd anxiety. What I didn't know was that I was experiencing something called culture shock. It happens when a person is submersed in an environment where social attitudes and expectations become vastly unfamiliar and the introduction of new cues are misinterpreted or miscommunicated.
On the third morning of the festival, I woke up again not feeling particularly social and definitely not like myself. I walked out of the tent and the first thing I saw was a flag in my neighbors yard that said "Go With The Flow." It was the simple sign I needed.
So if you're new to festivals and find yourself at Bonnaroo this year, or Lightning In A Bottle, or whatever festival calls on you, don't let yourself feel so disoriented that you forget to have some fun.
Just go with the flow.
