many things

walking by the encampment (slum) across the street from the embassy school to catch an auto-rickshaw to the market and seeing three or four students from the circus after school program...one, raju, a smiley stocky guy with a beard, 16 or 17 years old, but already made into a man by circumstance, is selling pineapple juice from a rickety old wooden cart he's pushing...i stop and say hello. another, nitesh, is fixing bicycles on a fraying brown tarp, under a tree. we talk for a while. umesh i see riding on the back of a bicycle, sitting on the rack, with his feet up high, trying not to interfere with his brother, who i don't know, steering. it's so strange seeing these guys outside of class, without a clown nose on, not goofing off or playing, but working, some of them. thinking to myself, i know that guy selling juice on the street, and there are thousands of juice sellers in india that i wouldn't give a second glance too, i might even judge them harshly (ashamed to say it, but it's true) telling myself something, like, that poor victim of society, what a tragedy...not realizing that of course, he's got a family, of course he's got a home life, and fun, and laughter and play. of course he'd make a great clown if he tried, of course we could engage in that way. it's like the whole world is opening up and bursting open and all the old rules are breaking, and i can see now, why people say india changes you, traveling changes you. eating a meal at a restaurant and not finishing it makes you feel guilty. because these kids, many of them, have never even seen a toilet that flushes.

gene (cohdi's dad) said tonight, before dinner, that he had to chaperone the bathroom outside the theatre last night (when we had our big circus show with all the kids) that there were boys from the camp who'd never seen a urinal and that they were peeing on the wall and amazed beyond belief that the hand dryers blew air at the push of a botton.

....

THE SHOW

the kids got to the gym early to get their t-shirts. we printed 50 or so, red shirts with the "circus across cultures" logo on the back, and they each changed immediately and gathered for our opening circle. uday led the warm up as usual, and we ran through the bows once. then we split into each group for a quick 10 minute check-in, my clowns made sure their props were in order, that their noses hadn't walked off, and to huddle and get juiced.

backstage in the wings as the show started and their friends and family members applauded one of the boys who speaks little english turned to me and said "this is a golden moment of my life."

performing on a state of the art stage, with colored lights and a killer sound system, with their new shirts and encouragement from us was such a powerful thing for these guys, i just know it. when hugging gulshin, a funny fellow with a most sincere interest in clowning (he came the first day with a photograph of a clown decked out in full augustine make-up and said "i want, please, to look like this") he said to me after the show as he shook my hand "a most large heart connection with you." and i said gleefully, "yes, i agree."

kailey, one of the american girls from the embassy school, has apparently caused the administration a bunch of trouble. she's the AES equivelant to "leave it to beaver's" eddie hascall. no one thought she'd stick with the circus program, she can barely even make it to school twice a week.(she's been given warnings of expulsion but her powerful parents threaten with legal action.) but she stuck through it, came every day but one, because she caught an over-night bug (confirmed by her mother) and she was up there, on stilts, this big, tempermental, stubborn girl, was smiling full of pride, just thrilled, to be up there, without help, walking on stilts, doing the choreography, after only one week's work.

the curtain closed and we packed things up and walked the group over to the reception where we all ate pizza and cake and said goodbyes. my clowns were so surprised they got to keep their noses, i said, "no, no, it's yours. it's a gift." and they almost jumped up and down.

i walked across the street later that night and saw many of them, still wearing their shirts, eager to pose for some photos. rahul showed me, infront of his house, how he's mastered the "walking into a wall" with practice. there in their own community, clown nose on, seeing these boys playing and laughing, pretending to fall and bump their heads, ruffling eachother's hair and teasing, challenging each other with another clown move, each one thinking he could do it best of all...it was amazing. totally magic. the women covering their laughs with their veils and children who weren't in the class giving it a go, joining the play.

i walked back to the hotel smiling. and singing laura and anne cheesy love songs. passionately, belting to the polluted sky, all my best "BOYS II MEN" tunes, "ALL 4 ONE" and songs from the musical "RENT." it was the best way to end the day, with singing, putting all my pent up feelings into it, letting it out, my favorite of the songs, which has become this trips unoffical theme song WATER RUNS DRY:

WE DON'T EVEN TALK ANYMORE
WE DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT WE'D ARGUE ABOUT
DON'T EVEN SAY I LOVE YOU NO MORE
'CAUSE SAYING HOW WE FEEL IS NO LONGER ALOUD
WHY DO WE HURT EACH OTHER?
WHY DO WE PUSH LOVE AWAY?
LET'S DON'T WAIT 'TILL THE WATER RUNS DRY
WE MIGHT WATCH OUR WHOLE LIVES PASS US BY
LET'S DON'T WAIT 'TILL THE WATER RUNS DRY
WE'LL MAKE THE BIGGEST MISTAKE OF OUR LIVES
DON'T DO IT BABY....

.....

the group all left to go north up to the himalayas. to perform for tibetan refugees to clown around without me (my choice) to spread joy.

i stayed behind to carry on solo. i've decided on varanasi. i'm flying out of delhi tomorrow morning to land in one of the oldest living cities on earth. legend says that the buddah came there to speak after he attained enlightenment. on the banks of the gange river men shave and women wash clothing and everyone bathes and splashes away their sins in the polluted holy water where its said if you die there, you will be freed from the chains of reincarnation. so it is there, in varanasi, where the sick and lame hobble to drop. where those who have left their homes, die nameless and burn in public flames. where drumming and wailing and singing and splashing water and sunight and prayer all mix into some chaotic whirlwild where the grand cycle of life is made painfully, beautifully clear.

i know i need this. some distance, some perspective. space to put things back together in myself. have an experience that's all mine. something to carry with me, through a clear lens, not foggy, not colored, not tampered with or broken. i am throwing myself towards this with a clarity and a power that i have been searching for outside myself for far too long.

let this be what i need. let this be what i have been asking for. let it be. let it be. let it be.