Personal Terror

Due to some difficulties incorporating Rajneeshpuram as its own city, the Rajneeshies took over the neighboring town of Antelope, bought up most of the properties, installed its children in the houses, took over the one-room schoolhouse effectively forcing the remaining local families to bus their children to further neighboring Madras (My god, it's a carbon-spending global warming nightmare) lest they have to spend their days with pink and red clad hooligan children. Antelope was renamed the City of Rajneesh and all its citizens eventually moved away save the one sannyasin family that had bought a home in the town. How could this plan possibly engender ill will?

The kids moved back to Rajneeshpuram shortly thereafter, though we were bussed to and from Antelope each day for school (45 minutes on windy back roads).

It was at this time that the friendly neighborliness feelings some of the very small towns in Central Oregon had afforded us began to dissipate and be replaced with anger and hostility. Sheela, the head "mom" on the Ranch began to become crazier and crazier, hatching nefarious plots in conspiracy with her cohorts. Things in my world began slowly to go awry. First, the enforced nuclear holocaust fear-instilling madness. Then, the AIDS scare - we were all certain to die in the oncoming plague unless we put alcohol on phones and toilet seats.

Then it got personal.

If we kids ever did anything that was "not on" (against the rules), we would be called into Ramakrishna to get "hosed" or "boned" (in trouble and yelled at). Offenses likely to get you hosed included anything from skipping lecture (videos of previously recorded Rajneesh lectures, remember he was in silence at this time) to skipping work. Or stealing, drinking alcohol, or anything our Moms felt was not on.

I was summoned to Ramakrishna for my attitude. I had been skipping lecture every day to play with my friend Sarjan on a tire swing. I also made out with my boyfriend Jeet during times I was supposed to be doing something else. I often skipped worship in order to play.

I nervously went in to the office. You never know whether a boning would get you sent away or merely a stern talking to. I waited anxiously for Shanti B, the Mom in charge of the kids, to come and give me my boning. She finally arrived, sat down across from me and chatted with me for a while about my attitude. I was about to get up and be done with this and was certainly ready to move on with my life.

"One more thing," she said. "How old are you?"
"Nine." I told her.
"Hm... and how old was your dad when his mom died?"
"Nine months."
"Oh, and how old was he when his dad died?"
"Nine."
"I see. Watch it from now on."

She didn't need to say anything more. I knew what it meant. At least what it meant to me. It was a not-so-thinly veiled threat against my dad. If I didn't shape up, my dad was a goner. I honestly didn't think that she meant she would kill him. In my mind, she meant if i didn't shape up, he would just die as a result of my badness.

The Ranch Revisited

I have been watching recent media attention given to the Fundamentalist branch of the Church of Latter Day Saints (aka FLDS aka those wacky Mormons) with a somewhat bemused lack of interest. And I have been hearing things like "abuse" and "neglect" and "What's with that hair?"

I was at a party yesterday where the FLDS fiasco was the topic of conversation. A friend whose opinion I deeply respect said something along the lines of "those poor kids will never recover (from their experience on this ironically-named "Ranch"). That is when I started to pay attention.

All of my years on the Ranch had me aware of how the Outside World viewed us. But only from the propaganda that came from within the Ranch. It was actually much worse from the real media. I lived in a "sex commune" filled with wacky red-clad people who spent their days working like dogs and their evenings swaying with arms raised exposing hairy armpits or shaking in fits of rapture. And the children, those poor children. How could they raise children in that environment?

I read that over 400 children have been taken away from their families. I can imagine the scene - chaos surrounding a raid, all children torn from their (young) mothers' arms, screaming and pulling at their skirts. Nursing babies were removed from their mothers' breasts. The thing that shocks me is not that this happened. What utterly surprises me is that it didn't happen to us. I can only attribute this to the fact that we were not in Texas, but in Oregon.

I am not saying that my upbringing was right and decent and not at all what is portrayed in the media. On the contrary. There was a sea of red-clad people dancing in rapture at the feet of a bearded man in robes. We did work 12 hours a day to build our city in the desert. But in our land-of-the-free-home-of-the-brave country, I have learned that freedom of religion only applies to the Judeo-Christians. We don't understand "cults" or "sects" and so give them those disparaging names to make us feel better about imposing our values on them. We don't believe the things they believe (and believe me, I have made my share of cracks about the Mormons over the years and I don't plan to stop now. Don't get me started on the Scientologists) and so that gives us as a society the right to move in, take their children, and fix their lives so that we are all more comfortable.

My childhood was just that, it was what was happening when I was a child. It was wild and certainly quite different from the childhoods that nearly all of my friends enjoyed. I have a few friends who grew up in that environment too and at some level, these are the only people who really get it. The only ones who shared a similar experience with me during my isolated and different childhood. But this does not make me less able to bond with people from the Outside World. I did marry a non-sannyasin. In fact, I often find the sannyasin "kids" precious and imperious. It's just that they are the only ones to whom I don't have to answer "What was it like?"

I have a daughter now. I can't imagine taking her to a Commune and giving her the childhood I had. I can't conceive of her living in a Kids' House, apart from me most of the time. I know that this would devastate her and me. She is also a very different kind of kid than I was. She is very attached, very sensitive, very emotional, very intense. I have provided her with an upbringing that suits us. My parents provided me with an upbringing that suited them and me. Some children suffered. Can you tell me that in our American Judeo-Christian society that children don't suffer?

Things get ugly

The thing about sannyasins is that they are into sex. And all that lovey-dovey stuff that goes with it. And they like to talk about it. A lot. Most of us kids were well versed in the ins and outs (so to speak) of sexual intimacy. I would like to deny all of the media hype that we got - you know you saw some of it - the free love orgies and so forth, but really it all stems from some kernel of truth.

No, I didn't witness any creepy weird public sex orgies, but like i said, people were open and free about sex and they were having a lot of it. There was lots of kissing and hugging going on everywhere, and I'm sure there was a lot of fucking going on behind closed doors, if not in big creepy weird public sex orgies.

Some time in 1983, I went to Maggie's (Magdelena, the cafeteria) to have dinner. Sarv came running up from behind me, hoisted me up into the air, and planted a big kiss on me. Then he launched into this frantic tirade about how he heard it from on high that a decree was coming down that we were all to be prohibited from kissing so he was trying to get his last smooches in.

Some time in 1983, they figured out that AIDS was becoming a problem. They also figured out that it was passed from person to person through sexual contact. Imagine what that does in a free-sex-and-love community.

It was true. Sometime the next day, we all got called in to a meeting. I was still living in Antelope and going to school there. They brought us all in to the little kids' school room and they told us about AIDS. They told us about how it was spread, though they also told us it was spread through saliva. They told us it was going to be the next plague and probably what was going to bring humanity down. They told us how we were to prevent it:

- Always wear condoms when having sexual intercourse (OK)
- Wear rubber gloves when having any sexual contact (?)
- No kissing whatsoever (and now it starts getting crazy)
- Use alcohol on the toilet before and after use
- Use alcohol on telephones before and after use

Alcohol sprayers were everywhere - kitchens, each telephone area, food prep areas, bathrooms, etc. Everyone was paranoid. To this day, I feel weird kissing people on the lips again, though at the time I defied authority somewhat and snuck into the back of an empty bus with my boyfriend Kamal and french-kissed him for hours at a time.

Shortly after that initial meeting, we were called in to another one. We were told that every man, woman, and child living on the Ranch (the kids were moved back to the Ranch sometime during that hubbub) was going to have to have an AIDS test. People that tested positive for the virus were to be quarantined and continue to live separately from the rest of us for the rest of their days.

The panic I felt was overwhelming. I was sure all that kissing gave me AIDS.

I'm a Big Kid

Still living in Antelope, I had a birthday. For some reason, turning 9 was a huge deal for me. It meant the difference between being a little kid and being a big kid. I was about to be a big kid! All I wanted for my 9th birthday was a new bike. I'd had a bike at the beginning of the Ranch, a nice one, but I'd loaned it to Geet ONCE and he left it in the middle of the road and it got backed over by a truck. Incidentally, this was not long before Pakhi, a girl slightly younger than me, was playing in the middle of the same road and got backed over by a truck. She was in the hospital for quite some time getting patched up.

Anyway, all I wanted was a replacement bike. It had, after all, been nearly two years since I'd had a bike. I dropped incredibly subtle hints to Sarv constantly, whenever I saw him. He had to go to Portland on one of his Donald Bluestone Lone Ranger Spy trips right before my birthday, but said he'd do what he could to come through Antelope on my birthday. The day rolled ever closer. This year Yasha had chosen a much more delicious flavor cake for her birthday two weeks prior to my birthday - white with whipped cream-and-strawberry icing. So of course that's what I was having too.

Nicky took special notice of my birthday. I hadn't been particularly close with him before that, but he seemed to be taking an interest in me nonetheless. I was living in Gorky, a small house at the bottom of the hill with Nicky (a different Nicky), Pramada, and Sanjay - three boys. Nicky (who later became Anshu, so lets just refer to him as that for now to avoid confusion) snuck into our house the evening of my birthday with at least twenty presents for me wrapped in tin foil. I waited patiently for my dad to arrive.

It got darker and darker and I waited and waited.

Finally, I heard his car pulling in behind the house. He came in with a few presents and we all sat down and began the celebration. We ate cake and I unwrapped each of Anshu's carefully wrapped presents - which included an apple and an old teddy bear and several other household items. I think he just wanted me to feel like I had a lot of presents to unwrap. Then I got to Sarv's presents: a book, a mad libs set, some other small trinkets from the Outside World, some candy. Then he said he had to leave. It was late and it was time for him to head back to the Ranch for a good night's sleep.

I think I couldn't hide the devastation on my face. I bit back tears and gave him a terse hug. He asked me to come out to the car to say good bye, so I followed him back fighting every emotion inside. He opened the trunk of the car and of course, I know you saw it coming, out came a nice shiny chrome and black BMX!

I'm pretty sure this was not the last time Sarv was able to fool me in this manner, but it is a lot harder to do nowadays. He does continue to try...

I returned to Antelope with a tan and a couple of cool T-shirts. "Here today, gone to maui," said one, and the other proclaimed, "Inside this hawaiian t-shirt is one terrific kid", both in a delightful shade of maroon. I couldn't wait to get back to Antelope, kidland, and be with all my friends again.

I had one friend in particular, Yasha, that I couldn't wait to see. I'd known Yasha since Geetam. She was a tough, cranky, no-nonsense individual and she had been my best friend there. When I left Geetam to go to the Ranch, I missed her terribly and talked to my dad about her constantly. When she arrived at the Ranch a few months after me, my dad fell in love with her instantly. They formed a special friendship which lasted for years. She was, more or less, the closest thing I had to a sister or sibling. She looked out for me and challenged me and pushed me to my limits.

When I returned to Antelope, I learned that the people in charge, the Moms, had decided that there should be no further communication between Yasha and my father. So, that was that. I never ferried messages between them, but they maintained their friendship anyway. But Yasha was never one to listen to rules. She smoked pilfered cigarettes and drank stolen liquor. She skipped work and meals and got into trouble in ways I would never dare.

At the Ranch, we would sometimes have these terrifying meetings at Ramakrishna, the Office of Getting Into Serious Shit with the Moms. Usually, we would be called in one at a time to get a stern lecture and punishment and then we would go on with our lives. Well, something unusual was happening. The entire community of kids was being called not into Ramakrishna, but to Jesus Grove, where Sheela, the biggest Mom and Bhagwan's personal secretary, lived and worked. Sheela and Vidya needed to speak with everyone.

I honestly have no idea what that meeting was about. But at the end of that meeting, several kids were singled out. This one had better "Shape Up Or Ship Out," that one received a warning. But one kid, one Deva Yasha, had gone beyond the line. She was singled out and used for an example. She did not get a second chance. She was to pack up and leave the Ranch. Her mom and dad were both living on the Ranch, so I think she went to live with her grandparents, also sannyasins, in San Diego. I didn't see Yasha again until shortly after the Ranch dissipated and she visited my dad and me in Northern California.

The kids were then unceremoniously removed from the town of Antelope and replaced onto the Ranch. We attended school at Ko Hsuan, a new building near the housing and we were farmed out to either kids houses - double-wide trailers that most people lived in - or to regular adult housing. I was kept in a kids house near Magdalena, the cafeteria. We were then all given new jobs on the Ranch and that was how we spent the rest of the time. This time, I was placed on a cleaning crew with Nicky, Sadhu, and Sanjay, three boys my age.

the OUTSIDE WORLD

On the Ranch, we were well trained to consider ourselves special and chosen. We referred to non-sannyasins with disdain and were simultaneously fearful and curious about the Outside World. Certain things from the Outside World were coveted: candy, pocket video games, meat, the color blue. Others were terrifying: bomb threats, nasty flyers constantly being dropped from airplanes to litter the Ranch, hateful looks and comments about our red clothes and malas.

At 8, I usually wanted to leave and get the candy and movies from the Outside World. I missed my mom, who lived in Berkeley, then Maui, then Laguna Beach, then Venice CA. I visited her first in Berkeley, where she lived with Akul and a group of other sannyasins. She drove a tiny beat-up Datsun and was cleaning houses I think. I was going to visit her for one week. Before I left, I was told that you weren't allowed to swear in the Outside World, it just wasn't accepted the way it was at the Ranch. I decided that I would have to get the swearing out of my system.

I rode a bus to California, all the while gazing out the window first at the high desert, then smalltown America, then cityscapes. I chanted to myself "shit. fuck. piss. goddamnit." If i could get it all out of my system before my arrival there, I wouldn't have to curse any more. The Dalles: Motherfucker. Portland: Shitkicker. Eureka: Tits. And so forth. It didn't work.

I enjoyed my time in Berkeley. My mom spoiled me for a week. Took me out to dinner and let me eat chicken, bought me candy and a new t-shirt with a batik dinosaur on it, got me a new book for the ride home and sent me on my way. The next time I visited her was later that same year on Maui.

I went for a month and she greeted me at the airport with a kiss and a candy lei. On that trip, I was reading "Forever" by Judy Blume. It was one of Judy Blume's forays into writing for adults, or at least older teens and it had a racy sex scene in it that I read over and over again. I didn't want anyone on the plane to know I was reading such a taboo novel, so I actually hid my teeny-bopper book behind the spine of a comic book.

My time in Hawaii was a challenge for my mom and me. I was in between being a boy and being a woman - I still dressed and looked like a boy, but I was just beginning to get interested and excited by sex. I read a lot of Judy Blume and was beginning to get crushes on boys. At the same time, I refused to wear a girl's bathing suit at the beach in Hawaii. We had an enormous fight over that one. I won. I wore trunks and read Judy Blume on the beach. Go figure.

My mom and I spent a lot of time at the beach. She bought me a boogie board which i used to scrape myself silly under the surf. She taught me to play solitaire and peeled my back after i got my first nasty sunburn. I spent a month living with and fighting with her and continuing to despise Akul. I also learned about tsunamis and combined that with my already disturbing preoccupation with death. To this day, I have nightmares about oncoming tidal waves.

After all the chicken and candy I could stand, I couldn't wait to get back to Sarv and the Ranch. I wouldn't visit my mom again until I was nine and would go live with her in Venice.

Fear and loathing in Antelope

There came a time when the kids were still exiled at Antelope that the word came down from on high that the world was ending. We were told to expect nuclear holocaust at some undetermined future date and that we would be chosen to survive and that, of course, we would build caves in which to live. I'm pretty sure several religious cults have had this same notion, but at age 8, this was the first I'd heard of it.

They began to fill our heads with visions of horror. First, I remember them reading a book to us. It was written from the point of view of a young girl who had survived the attacks on Hiroshima, but who now had leukemia and was dying. They told us to prepare. Finally, the thing that pushed this 8-year-old psyche over the edge, was the movie "The Day After". They often showed us movies, bootlegged copies of various VHS tapes that they'd managed to score, but they were usually flicks like "Fast Times at Ridgemont High" and "the Incredible Mr. Limpet". Maybe not all appropriate for children, but none scary and usually funny.

Anyway, we were told to meet at the cafeteria to see a movie. We were told we didn't have a choice, it was required. We had been paired with "big brothers" or "big sisters" and it was their job at this time to make sure their charges sat through this movie. So, we unwittingly piled into the sitting hall at the cafeteria and gathered to watch this movie. As I remember it, it was about World War III and the aftermath of nuclear winter. All I remember is the sight of people's bodies being vaporized into ash. I was terrified. Mouna and I spent most of the movie hiding in fear in the bathroom together. It was awful. After that, I became obsessed with death.

I began to think about death constantly. I worried that Sarv would die. Then I worried that I would die and Sarv wouldn't survive without me. Then I wondered what happened to me when I died. Then I worried that I would never kiss a boy or get my period before I died (I was reading a lot of Judy Blume books at the time). I do think that it was a little weird that I was so constantly obsessed with death at such a young age, but being Jewish by birth anyway, I think it was in my genes.

Soon after the constant end-of-the-world hype, all the talk about it disappeared. It was like they realized, OK maybe the end of the world is coming, maybe it's not, but lets get back to the business of living. In any case. no caves were built and no further plans were made for our survival. I guess they decided that the shit had been sufficiently scared out of us.