Report Week One
Monday October 2nd.
Bahrain International Airport.
We arrived in Kathmandu on what turns out to be the Dashien festival, or Nepal's equivalent of Christmas Day. We drove through the dusty streets of the capital past all the brightly costumed locals in their Saris and Buddhist robes. We were led to the headquarters of The Umbrella Project, one of the organisations where we are due to perform this week. Our guide is David Cutler, a co-director of The Umbrella who called out "Hey are you the clowns?" when he spotted us stretching our tired bodies across the departure lounge floor at Bahrain International Airport. Admittedly we did stand out. (Despite our lying down!)
We were brought to the house of Viva Bell, who is the main force behind the Umbrella (and has one of the best names in the world). She explained how they are responsible for the running of 5 orphanages in the Swoyambu district. An Irish woman from Banbridge, Northern Ireland, she fed us on fried egg sandwiches and invited us to see her 5 homes. And that’s when the madness started!
After only 2 hours sleep and fueled by egg and bread we were trouped off to meet the kids. Not a matter of shaking a few hands and squeezing out a few funny faces, we were initiated in the tradition of the festival. It was explained to us that the children would come one by one, each receiving a thumb stamp of Tikka (red dyed rice) on the forehead, a stem of grass behind the right ear and a bar of chocolate rolled in a ten rupee note.
We were given positions, Colm on the Tikka, Sam on the stems of grass, and me on the chocolate 'n the money. After every 12 kids, we would swap rolls untill, all five homes visited, we collapsed at our hostel, leaving big red rice-y thumb prints all over our sheets.
Tuesday 3rd October.
We have settled well at our guesthouse in a quite corner of the city. It is run by a Buddhist monk named Dawa who is allowing us to rehearse in his large garden. All in all it is a bit of a slow day, that culminates in an oul' seisiun at a restaurant in the noisy tourist center at Thamel. Indians, French, English and Nepali, sure we had them all singing.
Wednesday 4th Oct.
We are feeling refreshed, so we started rehearsing our show in the enclosed garden of our hostel. After a while local children gathered high up on a wall across the lane way. Risking loss of balance, they laughed and hollered at our routines. It is easy to rehearse with an eager audience watching on.
After lunch Sam picked up a unicycle from a contact in Tamil. He caused traffic jams and astonished looks as he spun past the Rickshaw drivers and street venders.
During our afternoon rehearsal we improvised new pieces and finished with an impromptu show up on the spiked wall around our garden. Our Audience consisted of 20 children on the wall opposite, women and the occasional Monk in the lane way bellow and a multitude of families gazing down from high up on windows and rooftops. We are slowly gathering a reputation.
Thursday 5th
As we left our hostel at 7am to go for breakfast we were greeted with a huge roar of approval from the 25 or so kids sitting high up on their wall. They had been there since 6am waiting for another performance. Unfortunately they'll have to wait a little longer as today we perform our first show.
As our taxi dropped us off deep in Kathmandu we scratched our heads as we searched for C.P.C.S., a center for street children. Luckily the filthiest child I have ever seen pointed at his chest and proudly announced "C.P.C.S." He then led us around the corner to the compound where this organization offers food and shelter to street children.
Initial contact was a mere half-welcome by the director, and it soon became apparent of a disconnection between staff and children, a place for survival, a place for rules. We'd see a lot of this in the upcoming weeks.
We were a little apprehensive, not only because it was our first show but also because on the phone the director had asked for Baksheesh (tip) to organize the show and Sam had to go to great lengths to explain what exactly we did. Also a little apprehensive because this place contained the most horrific excuse for a toilet outside of Tuam (I was so disturbed it took me ten minutes to get my funny on). Even the flies were vomiting in the corner. Sam and Colm heeding my advice visited the other toilet marked by a large bucket of insect covered rice outside the cubicle door. A quick nod between us clowns, sent the message around "if they offer us food, say no". The flies nodded in agreement.
The children sat up in raked rows on a makeshift riser. We paraded out from a room by the reception and performed our first show here in Nepal. After only a few moments it became apparent that the children were our teachers. The Lesson: learning what works and what doesn't.
Colm Juggling knives over the secretary: a big hit.
Sam spitting water at myself and Colm: a big No No!
(We later learn that anything which passes the lips is considered sacred….spitting out food or water is a huge insult. It may be a big hit throughout Africa, but that's one routine struck off the list.)
As we are ready to leave the compound, the head of the organisation gives us his critique.
"Very good, but you should have more magic in the show." Point taken. Back at the hostel we add a few magic tricks in place of the water routine. During the night I come down with a sore throat but Sam Nightingale nurses me and I soon settle into a deep sleep.
Friday 6th Oct.
Today we visited Kanti Children's Hospital, the only public children's hospital in a country of more than 25 million children. In our guise as Clown-Doctors, we performed gentle routines to a large audience in the main concourse. Sam intrigued the swelling crowd with his beautiful contact ball routine and 5 ball juggling.
We were led by our contact Bishop through Doctor-patient consultancies where I calmed the children with my red ball magic, and Sam and Colm delighted everyone with more magic.
An embarrassing moment occurred that I'll have to admit to. During a lull in conversation, I tried to tell a Doctor Doctor Joke….to a doctor. The poor man was so stunned that he cut me off in mid sentence and asked his friend about the weather. Sam and Colm were aghast as I kept digging a hole for myself. Ahem!
After one more performance in the concourse where we performed an acrobatic number, we were led to the cancer ward. Though it was an emotional experience seeing children slumped still in their beds or parents cradling their ill newborns, we took a few breaths and sang in harmony or played the wagging tongue game.
After over 2 hours we left the hospital exhausted.
Sat 7th Oct.
Finally our first show day.
We started out with our performance for the Umbrella Foundation. It was only a short stroll down from our guesthouse but on arrival the playground was transformed. It was the scene of some sort of Eastern Pageant. Bright blue and yellow costumed children perched high on the frames of swings and monkey bars. A stage had been erected. Some of the children had painted a mural that acted as a backdrop and a large banner hung above the stage. "Clowns Without Borders" in large red lettering let everybody know what was happening.
Though, it is important to note that we were only the support act. The children were the main event. We were an excuse to put on a mini festival. They had spent weeks preparing songs and traditional dances, costumes were unearthed and choreography decided.
As with performing to any small community, audience interaction causes hysteria as people witness their friends being ridiculed. No difference here as we brought Macha, a house father, up on stage for our tennis routine. The audience roared its approval as their friend darted about the stage to Colm's every whim.
When Sam burst one of my bubbles to produce his transparent contact ball, the audience went a hushed calm. As he rolled the ball across his arms and onto his head it was impossible to ignore the comments of the little children. "But that's impossible! You can't roll a bubble like that!" "It's not impossible" said another kid, "sure isn't he doing it!"
After our show we enjoyed the festival atmosphere and the beautiful performances of the children. Hip Hop, fashion shows, choral singing and traditional dancing with drums held above the boys heads as they stomped and strutted, twisted and sprung.
We couldn't stay long though as we had to high tail it across town to another home run by Beverly and Noel, an American/English couple who house 18 of the cutest little children this side of my nephew in a large estate on the edge of the city. At the gate we were welcomed by a junior clown in a bright red wig and floppy yellow costume who beckoned us in. Just as we were about to start it begun to rain so we moved everything indoors and performed in a small library on the edge of the property.
With local children filling every available corner, 80 children in all sat in a tight knot. Following on from the momentum of our first show we rocked through the hour. Even when after only the opening 30 seconds Colm slid and cut his finger on the wooden door it seemed to spur him and us on as we levitated children and serenaded women just cause we felt like it.
When a show is going well you don't ask questions. You just do it.
We were delighted with our show and though we planned to stay only a short while we partied with the children 'till nearly 10pm. The children loved our songs so we thought them the words and made up some more. We enjoyed more performances from the children and we all cheered when the taxi had still failed to appear one hour after we had called it.
Yippee!
Sunday 8th Oct.
Day off.
Colm and I meet a Hippy in Thamel who vibes us out. After a short conversation that doesn't make much sense he starts getting aggressive. When we don't quite see third eye to eye he says "I am giving you love though you're not taking the love. You have got to let the love come. Love is for everybody. My love is your love and though you're blocking the love the love will come". Luckily we controlled ourselves and didn't kill the hippy.
All in all it has been a good first week in Nepal.
Signing out Jonathan Gunning
Clowns Without Borders - Ireland