THURSDAY, MARCH 27, 2003
LAWRENCE
THE UNIVERSITY DAILY KANSAN 7
Perched upon the stump 30 feet high in the air, Sihka reads an article about homeland security. At the base of the tree a half-dozen people played bongo drums and circulated a petition requesting a park instead of commercial development. Sikha was replaced Monday
Sihka speaks about week in tree
Kelley Weiss/Kansan night.
On March 18, a young woman named Sihka climbed up an elm tree at Eighth and New Hampshire streets near the Borders Books Music & Cafe parking lot. The tree, which had its limbs removed earlier that evening, became a campsite and rallying point for a group of activists who dubbed themselves the "Kaya Preservation Society."
Members of the society concede that it may be too late to save the tree, which sits on the property of the Harris Construction Company and is owned by Bo Harris. But they pledge to try to preserve natural beauty in the midst of the concrete jungle. University Daily Kansan senior staff writer Lucas Wetzel sought an audience with Sihka on her sixth and final night in the tree. This is what she had to say.
Wetzel: How did you get up there?
Sihka: I have this rope that's around one of the taller branches, and I made a harness. Then I just kind of wormed my way up.
W: Has anyone tried to climb up there with you?
S: Yeah. We had a drunk guy one night, but he went away. His friend told him the fairies put me up here and that the fairies didn't want him to be up there with me.
So what do you do all day?
S: I make little wire sculptures. Right now I'm working on fairy wings that I wear on my back.
S: I people watch a lot. I read and I do some artwork.
S: When I get something signed saying they're not going to cut it, that they're going to leave an area for a park to celebrate life instead of death.
W: Is there a time you plan to come down?
W: Do you draw, or what do you do?
S: Yeah, everything's kind of distorted perception-wise.
W: That's awesome. Do people look funny from up there?
W: Have you lived in Lawrence for a while?
S: No, I'm nomadic
W: How did this all happen?
S: We were just planning on having a candlelight vigil and a drum circle here, and an hour before that happened we decided to have a tree-sit, too. Then we decided to put me up in the tree. When I told everyone at the vigil what was going on, people just showed up with their camping gear and decided to camp out.
W: Have you considered a compromise?
S:Not really. He hasn't even come out to talk to me.
W: What if they built an Ewok Village?
S: A tree condominium? I don't think it works like that.
W: What kind of interesting things have happened since you've been up there?
S: We have a lot of stupid people drive by, yelling things that we don't think they've thought about, like, "We love war and oil," or "Cut the tree, you dirty hippie." Someone said 'Burn the tree.' That was sad. That came from a little kid. We've gotten tons of support, though. There's so many people in the community who have seen this tree and really love it. We have hundreds upon hundreds of signatures on our petition already from people coming by.
W: What's the worst thing you have to deal with up there?
S: Rain. I have a tarp, though. It gives me a little bit of shelter.
S: If people want to know this, they have to come plant a tree to find out.
W: How do you, um, go to the bathroom?
W: Is there anything you want to say to those of us on the ground?
S: There's a good quote that actually appeared on the sidewalk one night: Once the last tree has been cut, and the last river has been poisoned and the last fish has been caught, only then, will we realize you can't eat money.
W: That just showed up on the sidewalk?
S. Yeah. Magic, huh?
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W: Definitely.