Sunday morning, as Anaconda puts it, "we meet for breakfast at 9:00 and at 9:30, we look each other in the eyes and decide what we will do." This is the process for Dendera each week to get together and do work on the land. On this day I grabbed my gloves and Lukas and I set out following Susan, an eccentric woman from Berlin who arrived yesterday and who stays in Damanhur often over the last decade or so. She's already had me laughing at every little joke she makes.
On into the forest we meet up with some folks from Magila, "Magic," the nucleo adjacent to Dendera, stopping near a little house that rotates 360 degrees to follow the sun. It's unclear what work we are about to commence but Lukas is chosen as the only other male to help a man from Magila move a stone from out of the wood and into the wheelbarrow. And off we go, 5 women following Lukas and the stone still further into the wood for unknown reasons, Susan and I cheering, "follow the stone!"
We finally came to the altar to the earth, made of a large boulder, a few stone steps up to it, and topped with an ancient looking tree stump covered in lichen. Here we were put to task to build up a stone wall along the lower edge of the altar's boulder. I couldn't have been happier to hear this was the task because, truth be told, I had been saying to Lukas over the last few weeks how much I wanted to build a stone wall, inspired by the stone walls of my youth and all the gorgeous old walls of the Italian mountains. It seems my manifestation powers are quite strong!
While the other women set out to move stones and clean up the main boulder of the altar with a rough metal brush, Lukas and I carefully chose each stone to fit both geometrically and aesthetically together, making sure the mossy faces of the rocks greeted the earth worshipper as they approached the altar. I felt as if I found something I could do again and again. What luck: to be outdoors under the forest canopy, using the beauty of the earth to create ever more intentional spaces and playing with rocks like puzzle pieces. It's perfect for me! I felt at ease while we tried placing this or that stone, trying one orientation, then rotating it another way so that it locks right into place. In the end, I felt like the wall looked as if it belonged. And I also had a sense of belonging as well.
Back at the main house, a grand Sunday lunch was being prepared by Gazza and Jasmin. We showed up to help set the long table, fit for a squished 25 people. At first, Lukas and I went to the cupboard and pulled out 3 tablecloths to piece together over the entire length. They didn't quite match, though they each had fruit printed on them, and there were fold creases all over them. I eyed them, thinking that they would not be approved by the house, but Lukas thought they were fine so we kept going. Then, from the adjoining kitchen, Gazza yells out, "no, no, they must look good for this meal!" Slightly embarrassed, I ask for the correct ones and fold up the mess of the ones we had first grabbed. "Okay, use these," Jasmine explains, " but first use these two that match and then put this one at the end." As a German, she said that it took her a while to learn all the ways of table setting because Germans eat directly on their wooden tables and that's the we they like it. When we had artfully finished the tablecloths and all the plates were placed in an alternating pattern, we all celebrated our success to make a big Italian family proud.
At lunch there were many toasts in Italian of who made what dish, that the tomatoes and basil came from the land, the wine brought from a lunch guest, and on. Gazza later apologized for not having made an announcement about our glorious table setting. The lunch consumed many bottles of wine, and finished off with homemade pie of two kinds, and coffee. Now stuffed, it's time to get back to my afternoon projects while I still have my caffeine high. Brava!