"So what is Clowns with….or is it… without?….Borders exactly?"
"We're an international non-profit doing clown shows in areas around the world that have suffered some kind of crisis."
"Well – welcome to New Orleans…!"
The tone of voice full of the implication of all of the hardship that so many people have withstood and continue to withstand day after day. This voice belongs to a teacher at one of the Catholic Charities summer camps where we perform.
We incorporate the kids in our clown show. When we go underwater they are the seaweed, some blow bubbles, one is a shark. In the swamp they are the trees and help me hide from the swamp monster and then transform the swamp monster back into Dasani (Alice). Our show at this particular summer camp is very energetic and when we get to our desert scene, the kids get a little carried away telling us which way to go to find water. "There! No that way! That way!" One kid in the front row can't contain himself and periodically shouts out "She's funny! You're funny! Funny!"
We are here in New Orleans performing for kids all over the city. We are partnering with a large variety of organizations – local church groups, organizations that sprung up after hurricanes Katrina and Rita, established arts programs, a local farmer's market:
Catholic Charities
Dominion Power Ministry
Emergency Communities
Jefferson Youth Foundation
Kingsley House
Kidsmart
Pentecost Baptist Church
Play Power
The Renaissance Project
The Verge
Zion Hill Baptist Church
All of these groups are doing amazing work fighting to rebuild and support kids whose support structures have been ripped apart. We do a show at the Emergency Communities summer camp in the Diamond FEMA trailer park. Only 35 kids but they get out of hand easily and the counselors have trouble keeping them quiet and sitting down during the show – they start talking to each other or come up on stage with us. These kids live in a trailer park - rows and rows of white boxes – so many of their parents working at night, or not working at all. Most people in the park seem to stay in their trailers all day and it's a drop-in camp program so the counselors don't have much authority – the kids can always just leave and go back to their trailer.
Our show is in the "courthouse" – a former courthouse that was totally ripped apart by the storm. Only the basic structure is still standing, the floor a mess of ripped up tiles, insulation and wires hanging from the ceiling, but it provides much needed shade on such a hot day.
At the end of the show the kids want to see our props. They want to take our stuff or they want us to give it to them. One little 4 year old girl absent mindedly takes my orange arm floaty from the show and starts to walk away. A patient counselor says, "Baby, you need to give them back the armband." The girl doesn't seem to even notice that she's being spoken to; she walks in the opposite direction with the floaty. The counselor tries again, "Honey, look at her, she needs the floaty to swim in the next show. What's the matter? Did you sleep okay? Baby, look at how sad she is. You need to give it back to her so she can do another show." I put on a sad face, the girl looks up, smiles and gives it back to me.
I am so impressed by the counselors at this camp – wow is it hard to teach these kids respect when they have been disrespected over and over so many times – before the storm by the systematic oppression of poor black children in this country, and after the storm being pulled around from one living situation to another, so that almost 2 years later they are still living in a bleak trailer park with the constant threat that they will lose their FEMA benefits.
Of course they want to grab at our arm floaties, stereo, clown noses, even the half eaten apple from our show. I really can't blame them.
Two days later we return to the trailer park to teach a workshop. The kids trickle in slowly. I do a very little intro to clowning with them. We start off going around in a circle, each kid coming up with a clown name and a gesture. Peachcows, Blue, Skip, Blockbuster, Netflix, Heeltoe, Blueberries, Sir Isaac Hagen Daaz of Utah, CocoGoddess, Spiderman, Red, Stars, and Dasani (Alice) and Farquar (Selena). We do a group juggling exercise throwing balls in a pattern. The kids actually stay still and quiet totally concentrated for it! Then we all practice silly walks, and chant each person's new clown name as they do their walk one at a time. Finally, we practice tripping. "Hey Heeltoe, how's it goi...WOAH!…..(look back) what was that?" They totally go for it. And at the very end, one by one they put on a clown nose, do their silly walk and trip as we chant their new clown names.
We've had a great time, the kids have really opened up in just that one hour, and they have been respectful to each other and to us.
Yes there has been a crisis in New Orleans, but as a woman who watched our show at the Pentecost Baptist Church reminded us, the crisis is not contained to New Orleans. This particular woman is still living in Dallas because she can't afford to move back to New Orleans to live. Her old home was ruined and is contaminated with black mold. Rents have skyrocketed and there are few jobs. She can only come to visit her son and his kids briefly. She asks if we aren't by any chance going through Dallas so that we could perform for all the displaced people at her church there, cause they could really use us! There are so many people who have been displaced by these hurricanes all across the U.S.A., faceless in our media. What does that mean for Clowns Without Borders, an organization whose mission is to work in areas of crisis? Is our entire country an area of crisis?
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Monday, April 09, 2007
KATRINA III
Clowns Without Borders is embarking on its third project to the area hit by Hurricane Katrina. This third project will be composed of 3 different expeditions in April, June and July 2007.
Clowns Without Borders' mission is to provide relief through laughter to children in areas of crisis. Shockingly very little has changed in the area hit by Katrina in the past year. Even within the borders of the USA, it is still very much a crisis.
to hear what the children in new orleans have to say about how things are, check out this very inspiring video:
http://www.stillweatheringthestorm.com/
Alice and I will be in the New Orleans area July 4th - July 18th.
Clowns Without Borders' mission is to provide relief through laughter to children in areas of crisis. Shockingly very little has changed in the area hit by Katrina in the past year. Even within the borders of the USA, it is still very much a crisis.
to hear what the children in new orleans have to say about how things are, check out this very inspiring video:
http://www.stillweatheringthestorm.com/
Alice and I will be in the New Orleans area July 4th - July 18th.
Friday, December 15, 2006
CHIAPAS, MEXICO - CLOWNS WITHOUT BORDERS
Chiapas, Mexico with Clowns Without Borders.
November 16 - 24
11 shows for over 2,100 people
me and Rudi Galindo, veteran CWB clown.
Rudi has been going to Chiapas with Clowns Without Borders for 7 years. Though the area is no longer in a state of crisis, the relationship between CWB and local organizations is strong. Rudi is a very experienced performer and traveller and I learn tons from playing with him.
Most of our shows are in and around Las Margaritas, a small town where I am the only blond person to be seen. We stay with a Women's and human rights organization that works with indigenous communities in the area and sleep on the floor of their office. The organization is essentially run by a single extended family and the women in the family cook us simple but spicy and delicious traditional food - a big desayuno and a big comida in the afternoon with countless cups of sweet black coffee.
the neighborhood we stay in is called "los pocitos," people jokingly call it "los pobritos" (the little poor people).
We perform community shows, school shows, a show at an elderly center, a show at an alcoholics rehabilitation center (where patients are locked in the center for 6 months), a show at a roadblock, and a stunning final rural show.
The children we perform for (the adults too) have never seen a live clown show, but they certainly know a clown when they see one.
Rudi and I are instantly famous. When we walk through town the kids yell out "payasito!" "payasa!" ("little clown!", "lady clown!")
After our show at the elderly center, one of the women gives me an orange from her handbag. After a different show, a girl from the neighborhood buys me a spicy lollipop. These gifts are symbolic of the generosity we encountered over the course of this trip. While freely sharing of ourselves through our playfulness, both in and out of shows, we only received colorful appreciation and generosity in return.
November 16 - 24
11 shows for over 2,100 people
me and Rudi Galindo, veteran CWB clown.
Rudi has been going to Chiapas with Clowns Without Borders for 7 years. Though the area is no longer in a state of crisis, the relationship between CWB and local organizations is strong. Rudi is a very experienced performer and traveller and I learn tons from playing with him.
Most of our shows are in and around Las Margaritas, a small town where I am the only blond person to be seen. We stay with a Women's and human rights organization that works with indigenous communities in the area and sleep on the floor of their office. The organization is essentially run by a single extended family and the women in the family cook us simple but spicy and delicious traditional food - a big desayuno and a big comida in the afternoon with countless cups of sweet black coffee.
the neighborhood we stay in is called "los pocitos," people jokingly call it "los pobritos" (the little poor people).
We perform community shows, school shows, a show at an elderly center, a show at an alcoholics rehabilitation center (where patients are locked in the center for 6 months), a show at a roadblock, and a stunning final rural show.
The children we perform for (the adults too) have never seen a live clown show, but they certainly know a clown when they see one.
Rudi and I are instantly famous. When we walk through town the kids yell out "payasito!" "payasa!" ("little clown!", "lady clown!")
After our show at the elderly center, one of the women gives me an orange from her handbag. After a different show, a girl from the neighborhood buys me a spicy lollipop. These gifts are symbolic of the generosity we encountered over the course of this trip. While freely sharing of ourselves through our playfulness, both in and out of shows, we only received colorful appreciation and generosity in return.
ROAD BLOCK SHOW
It is the anniversary of the Revolution and the Zapatistas are blocking all the roads in Chiapas to celebrate.
Lopez Obrador who lost the presidential seat in a highly disputed and rather sketchy election, has declared himself president of a parallel government today.
The state of Oaxaca is still in a state of disaster with teachers striking in order to oust the governor. Around 30 protestors have been killed by the police in the last year.
The three issues, though very separate, have gotten confused, and there is a spirit of revolution and possible violence in the air today.
But we need to get to our performances! So get an early start and brave the roadblocks.
At the first one, the road is lined with at least 300 men and women in black Zapatista hoods. It is very impressive. But they don't even make us wait 10 seconds before letting us through the block.
At the second road block, there are fewer people, most of them men in cowboy hats. They are very cheery and are having fun blocking the road. Indeed they keep us waiting for almost 2 hours. After watching and playing gin rummy for a while, Rudi and I get bored. He gets out of the truck and starts juggling. The crowd gathers. He does some hat tricks. I get out of the truck and stand in the crowd watching, trying to meld into the audience. I love getting a taste of what it is like on the audience side of a Clowns Without Borders trip. I feel their surprise and delight and excitement at this strange character that just stepped out of the blue truck with California plates. The laughter ripples through the whole crowd. I feel, just for a few moments, that I too am part of them. Belong to that group of local zapatistas, or the other mexicans who by now have gotten out of their cars to watch; we're all laughing together.
Then Rudi pulls our giant slinky and I join him. The two of us start doing routines from our show together. I become a slinky animal. We do the water lazzi and I spit water at him. The crowd loves us.
Finally the director of the road block comes over. "We are distracting everyone, they are forgetting why they are here," he tells us. "Besides they are about to let the cars through". So we pack up and hit it.
As we are pulling out we hear an older man say "payaso!" They've had a good laugh and though we weren't wearing clown noses, they know what we are:
"clowns that know how to get through roadblocks"
Lopez Obrador who lost the presidential seat in a highly disputed and rather sketchy election, has declared himself president of a parallel government today.
The state of Oaxaca is still in a state of disaster with teachers striking in order to oust the governor. Around 30 protestors have been killed by the police in the last year.
The three issues, though very separate, have gotten confused, and there is a spirit of revolution and possible violence in the air today.
But we need to get to our performances! So get an early start and brave the roadblocks.
At the first one, the road is lined with at least 300 men and women in black Zapatista hoods. It is very impressive. But they don't even make us wait 10 seconds before letting us through the block.
At the second road block, there are fewer people, most of them men in cowboy hats. They are very cheery and are having fun blocking the road. Indeed they keep us waiting for almost 2 hours. After watching and playing gin rummy for a while, Rudi and I get bored. He gets out of the truck and starts juggling. The crowd gathers. He does some hat tricks. I get out of the truck and stand in the crowd watching, trying to meld into the audience. I love getting a taste of what it is like on the audience side of a Clowns Without Borders trip. I feel their surprise and delight and excitement at this strange character that just stepped out of the blue truck with California plates. The laughter ripples through the whole crowd. I feel, just for a few moments, that I too am part of them. Belong to that group of local zapatistas, or the other mexicans who by now have gotten out of their cars to watch; we're all laughing together.
Then Rudi pulls our giant slinky and I join him. The two of us start doing routines from our show together. I become a slinky animal. We do the water lazzi and I spit water at him. The crowd loves us.
Finally the director of the road block comes over. "We are distracting everyone, they are forgetting why they are here," he tells us. "Besides they are about to let the cars through". So we pack up and hit it.
As we are pulling out we hear an older man say "payaso!" They've had a good laugh and though we weren't wearing clown noses, they know what we are:
"clowns that know how to get through roadblocks"
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
RURAL COMMUNITY SHOW
Our main contact in Las Margaritas takes us to a community 45 min outside of town where she teaches human rights workshops. When we arrive, they start anouncing over the big community megaphone that we are going to do our show in 15 minutes. Children, youth, and adults start gathering close to the community center, but they are shy, and they don't know how to make an audience. They are not experienced performance watchers. They don't understand that we are trying to get them all together and they keep running away from us when we start to get close.
So we take it slow. Improving. Me with my small accordeon which I am slowly getting halfway maybe okay at playing.
They get used to us.
And finally,
they gather.
But the children stay clumped on one side,
the youth on the other,
and the adults behind us.
It is a magic little show, in the middle of the countryside, with shy and adorable laughter.
We are truly strange clown creatures that have appeared out of nowhere and they watch us intently.
It is the last show of the tour and feels extra special to me.
As the show unfolds the audience opens up.
When it is over we depart stepping in time together with the accordeon,
the youth go "ooooh-h-h"
they don't want us to leave.
we stop, look at them, look at each other,
start walking again.
"ooooh-h-h"
stop.
start again
"oooooh-h-h." again.
stop.
start.
"oooh-h-h ooh-h-h oooh-h-h."
It becomes a game.
They ask us to do the performance again a second time.
We have a 3 hour drive and it is already getting dark. We are wiped. So we leave with them wanting quite a lot more. But it is a great ending to a lovely tour.
So we take it slow. Improving. Me with my small accordeon which I am slowly getting halfway maybe okay at playing.
They get used to us.
And finally,
they gather.
But the children stay clumped on one side,
the youth on the other,
and the adults behind us.
It is a magic little show, in the middle of the countryside, with shy and adorable laughter.
We are truly strange clown creatures that have appeared out of nowhere and they watch us intently.
It is the last show of the tour and feels extra special to me.
As the show unfolds the audience opens up.
When it is over we depart stepping in time together with the accordeon,
the youth go "ooooh-h-h"
they don't want us to leave.
we stop, look at them, look at each other,
start walking again.
"ooooh-h-h"
stop.
start again
"oooooh-h-h." again.
stop.
start.
"oooh-h-h ooh-h-h oooh-h-h."
It becomes a game.
They ask us to do the performance again a second time.
We have a 3 hour drive and it is already getting dark. We are wiped. So we leave with them wanting quite a lot more. But it is a great ending to a lovely tour.
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