clownswithoutborders.org

Volunteers: Sayda Trujillo, Kali Quinn and John Leo.

John’s Journal April 15, 2010

Two days ago I was in alone in a hospital room (bacterial infection in the gut and dehydration) hooked up to an IV, making an hourly pilgrimage to the bathroom- a ten days worth of Guatemala and El Salvador memories reduced to a mucousy mess of mishaps, images and smells. I was in these countries on the admirable Clowns Without Borders mission of “No Child Without a Smile,” yet the inglorious common Tourista would send me home, as the other Payasos travelled further into the jungle to spread laughter. Now that I am in my Brooklyn apartment, drinking water from a tap, walking my dog on even sidewalks and understanding almost 100% of what people are saying to me (it is still Brooklyn), my memories, as if in communication with my err…movements, are taking shape- and taking on meaning.

From my first steps in Guatemala, literally- I sprained my ankle within my first 100 steps, on the uneven sidewalk, the relatively simple task of Clowning for impoverished children was way more complicated than I had imagined-yet somehow absurdly simple. Our first night together – in Quetzaltenango – Sayda, Kali and I were sitting around the dinner table with Steph (our local contact and the fourth clown) and his family. Our first moments as a group were a blur of languages – none of them quite being understood by everyone. Steph and his family speak French and Spanish, Sayda speaks Spanish and English fluently, I speak English fluently and Spanish brokenly and Kali speaks English and some French and some Brazilian Portuguese. “How are we going to make a show together like this?” I thought to myself. And then, as if in answer, Steph’s 10 year-old son entered urgently telling (those who could understand) that their cat had gone into labor. We were immediately on the same page- a miracle was happening- it was the first time any of us had been present for a feline birth, including the momma kitty- and what information needed to be exchanged – just was: efficiently and with a sense of curiousity and fun. This feeling carried over into our rehearsals over the next couple of days. When we got bogged down with language, we figured out a way to get on our feet and play. It was good practice. The pueblos that we would be visiting mostly spoke a language that none of us knew: Tz’utujil, a Mayan language spoken by approx. 84,000 people (according to Wikipedia), so we had to depend on real reactions that come from our characters gut, without much thought. Like when Steph’s Clown (the ‘lowest status’) was standing too close over Sayda’s shoulder while she tried to read a paper, and Sayda’s body twitched in annoyance. That’s universal.

Another vivid memory: our first show was not quite together, and right before going on, Kali warned us that she might, mid-show, have to make a run for the baño. Or our second show, Sayda says the same. And our third: they both say it. And it’s okay, cause we’ve got each other’s back (literally). And no, none of them left in the middle of the show. Or: sitting on “stage” (a concrete soccer court), with my jaw dropped. The young students had theirs dropped too, because I’m making music on a carpender’s saw- but behind the kids a huge volcano, solid & majestic rises up and is giving me shivers. Or a couple moments, from the same show, when I and a couple of teenage boys make eye contact throughout the show. Every time Kali or Sayda were doing something silly, I would look to them as if to say “what weirdos!”, which they returned, with an extra- you’re a weirdo too, but you’re also cool, cause you keep looking over here. Or another show, where a large number of the 400 student crowd seethed at us as the show was ending. During this show I realized that pretty much every audience we had laughed really hard any time we moved our butts. Did they all know we were having problems down there? This same show I discovered the power of crying. I’d never surfed a wave of giggles on a surfboard made of pretend sobs. Though they would laugh during the shows, at the end there was never applause. I had heard from other Clowns with no borders that indigenous villages’ seldom applauded. But here we were at the end of our show, expecting applause-because that’s what’s happened at the end of every show we’d seen- and silence. A softer, more honest activity developed at the end of the shows: we’d simply start packing up and say ‘bye’ in our individual way. And then, as soon as we got used to ‘saying bye’ in this gentle way, when I went out to perform at what was to be my last show- the audience roared, the kind of roar that scared me, made me run for cover. And they did not roar just once. Whenever any of us Payasos did anything notable they would simply roar, together- with a school spirit that was infectious – hey! Maybe that’s what got me so sick!

Now that I am safe and sound at home, three simple words are my souvenir: “Vaya con Dios.” Translated as “Go with God,” the expression was said amongst us Payasos anytime any of us had to go to the bathroom. We ALL had it, and we ALL knew how crappy our craps were and, being Payasos and knowing that every problem is better when embraced and celebrated rather than hidden and dealt with in isolation, this became our shorthand for ‘may you go have solid poo, and when you get back I expect a report.’ So…there’s my report.

Sayda’s Journal:.
April 10, 2010

After rehearsing two whole days at Stef’s house last weekend (4/3 & 4), we came up with a pretty great show with lots of music and umbrellas, which keeps changing daily. Monday April 5 we started our tour here in the northwest highlands of Guatemala, we headed off to Panajachel, Solola, a two hour drive, and a 45 min boat ride to Santiago where the Mayor, Chico Coche waited ready to take us to our final destination, the village of Chuk Muk. Chuk Muk is a fairly new village where the families that were left without homes after hurricane Stan in 2005 finally have a home five years later. We performed for 340 students at the town’s one elementary school. Our background, a volcanoe of overwhelming beauty. This was our first show and I always forget what it’s going to be like when we get there. We got there and there are lots of children and big smiles and anxious to see us and play with us. Kali gets poked by a 6 year old boy then she extends her hand expecting the boy to poke her back but instead he gently puts his her hand over hers and lets it sit there for what seems like a long time, looking at kali and smiling and then runs away. Two worlds meeting is very powerful, that’s what I love about being here now, it’s the conversation we begin. We have been overwhelmed!! With the place’s beauty and people’s generosity.

After another boat ride across the lake, our second show took place in  La Laguna in Solola. Coming up into the town through winding roads on small red tuk-tuks with all of our stuff, we finally arrived at Pronada Elementary School where the children immediately surrounded us and spoke the language of Sutujil. While, waiting when and where we were to start we were tickled, played with, poked at and all shared a lot of smiles… people shouting and pointing – “payasos!”

We had noticed how nice the boys were to each other earlier in the day, but now were also realizing that the boys were picking on the girls. Kali thought about this a lot throughout the show… there were only a few people watching at first so we sent John out to play and milk it. He gave us a look of “Okay… here I go!” but he soon found liberation in play with the audience and took much more time in meeting them and finding what made them laugh… soon there were tons of children on the steps, many adults on the second floor balcony of the municiple building, and people who had just been passing by stopping to see what all of the commotion was about.

Right behind us there was a group doing construction. Amidst the laughter, Kali noticed a small girl carrying tons of wood to this site while trying to catch some of the show. All of a sudden… a basketball bounces in (forgot to mention we were doing our show on the town basketball court) and was an instant opportunity grabbed by all of us to go off our plan and just see what could happen. John ended up dunking a clown nose in a hoop, and the “owner” of the ball (hesitant at first) ended up coming on stage and being involved in the next juggling routine. Our first audience member to join us on stage. Now, 200 people surrounding us… Connections in the eyes. Joy in the faces. Working, if even for a moment pausing for a breath. We sang and danced and laughed along with everyone straight through the end. Then in a moment of absolute surprise and improvisation about how to finish, John sat on the truck not wanting to go, and Kali (still thinking about the girls being picked on and working so hard) – not knowing if she could do it – picks John up. The looks of astonishment on the audiences’ faces was hard to describe. It was worth the work, the play. The heat. Our sickness. Our tiredness. We all keep going into the dressing rooms. A sense of relief and disbelief of the gratitude and connection we experienced. Laughter is not all these communities need, but it does provide something that nothing else could.

Sayda’s Journal: Friday, April 2, 2010

I am writing from Stef’s house in Quetzaltenango (Xela). Kali, John and I arrived here two hours ago. Kali and I arrived in Guatemala City yesterday morning and John was supposed to follow on a later flight to arrive in Guatemala at night. Initially the plan was to go to Antigua from the airport for a day visit— to kill time while John caught up with us in the evening—but also to witness the massive extravagant Semana Santa processions (Easter processions) which is a tradition still going strong here in Guatemala. Antigua is the old capital of Guatemala. Well, when kali and I arrived yesterday morning we decided it was better to go to my cousin’s (who’d picked us up) house to drop of our stuff and then go to Antigua, but instead when we got there we cooked a light meal, ate and passed out. We had not slept in twenty-four hours and realized we were being too ambitious in thinking that we would be ready to take on Antigua and processions right away. So we waited for John, who in the meantime had been delayed in NYC, which caused him to miss his connection in Miami, which meant he was spending the night in mojito land. And he did, spent the night in Miami and caught the next morning flight to Guatemala! We finally reunited today, took shuttle service from Guatemala City to Xela, this service included a stop in Antigua where we got to have a quick lunch and walk around in the midst of Easter procession chaos. I will tell you more about the processions later. Last night when we learned that John wasn’t going to make it, we (Kali and I) met up with my friend Jose in Zona 1, where there were so many people out in the streets, whole families with their children, lots and lots of children, walking peacefully on the streets. The tradition on Good Friday in Guatemala is to visit churches as many as you like and light a candle to the saint of your devotion. Kali made the observation that there was something informal about wondering in and out of the churches, and that it was like at that moment church was sacred but also familiar and not a place where one could only be quiet and careful, but instead happy and light and move with a communal festive rhythm inside the church. We followed the crowds and went in and out of churches and ventured into eating the delicacies of Easter’s holy week, this included traditional Guatemalan street foods, like Tostadas de Guacamol, Enchiladas, Atol de Elote, Torrejas and corn on the cobb to name a few. So John got in this morning and now we are all here in Xela, about to eat a delicious meal, chicken cooked in beer, and other things…

The drive to Xela from Antigua was about 4 hours. I love this journey, driving on the mountains, we caught sight of a beautiful sunset.

Written by John, March 24, 2010 (One week till we go to Guatemala/El Salvador: En route to NYC  from our session creating in VT.)
Exhausted from three days of playing, gut-aching laughter, cracking  jokes on each other, eating fanTASTIC food, word games  and sharing songs & dances. Im exhausted but can’t sleep- kinda  buzzing from the level of openness, directness and fun in our creation process.

We started the weekend off by making a pile (costumes, random props &  instruments) and a list (stuff we like to do& bits and elements we think should be in the show). Then we went outside, closed our eyes and followed our interest. In the  pine cone fight, Kali thought she was picking up poo- but it was really just those weird tubes of turf made when one aerates the ground. Sayda hugged a big electrical box for a while.  Inside, my castanet was a whale named Felipe on a sea made by Sayda’s umbrella.  There was a funky dance party routine.  Snack-time. Then we went  outside and played a bunch of music and I give Sayda my uke to play  . We played with a couple different  entrances- learn a hat switching and it’s instant. She’s a Rock Star. ‘Cielito lindo’ became the song for us – both because it’s stunningly beautiful and because Sayda learned the three chords for it within minutes.Break for food.

Food.
I got hungry a lot. Not a happy clown am I if I don’t eat every two/three hours. With plentiful snacks and Sayda’s torta española & Kali reminding me to eat every two hours, I know I’m in good hands with these people.
Kali started our second day off by teaching us an amazing, cathartic rhythmic song  and dance- it’ll probably be the ending. Sayda led a gesture exercise that will fit nicely towards the beginning.  In the afternoon we took the classic Newspaper cwb duo bit and added a third and a chase scene and some more hat work. We agreed that hat switching will probably be a through-line. More food: Kali’s boyfriend’s inspired fusion fried rice and calamari salad – a happy clown was I. After dinner, we’re eager to get back to work- and either we’re nuts or it’s late- but we get pretty punchy and create a WHACKED out sinking boat (made from a hat) scene where the boat gets eaten by the whale (two umbrellas) and Sayda goes in for it and gets pooped out.
Poop. Yep we’re pretty sophisticated.

And that’s were we wrap up. We’ve a beginning, two big chunks for the middle and an ending and none of of it is glued together so that we can add Steph (our fourth- who lives in guate) when we get there…  When I think of what we made I giggle. It’s a very good sign. Wow.Whoa, and I’m arriving to Brooklyn just in time for din-din!!!

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CWB returns to Guatemala for a third time since 2005, when Hurricane Stan destroyed communities in the northwest highlands. Our work in Guatemala this time will consist of performances for all ages as well as clown workshops for youth and their teachers. Our main collaborator in Guatemala is Stephane Gue, director of Proyecto Payaso, an organization dedicated to raising  awareness around HIV/AIDS through clown performances and workshops. Our collaborator in El Salvador is Robyn Braverman with Save the Children.  El Salvador was recently (November 2009) hit by Storm Ida leaving thousands homeless and without access to basic needs.  There we will perform in schools and provide youth groups with skills that allow them to use creative theatre in their organizational work and in their communities. Although we will only be in El Salvador for 3 days, in that time we will visit 5 different communities.  In Guatemala we will spend time in remote communities outside Quetzaltenango, Sololá, Suchitepequez, and Izabal.

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