Clowns Without Borders - USA

“Nou mange la lune!” exclaims Jo Jo, a hyperactive seven-year-old who jumps all over our shoulders, backs, necks, and wraps around our hips with fervent energy. He tells us that we will eat the moon as he laughs out loud. Jo Jo hangs out with a crew of young people who have been building juggling balls with us out of sand, balloons, and sandwich bags. They were all very good at making 130 balls with us in less than and hour, but now we’ve been having trouble keeping the balls out of their mouths. Jo Jo is a leader in the ball deconstruction business as he sucks on the plastic and rubber as if he is trying to eat the sand. He eats the sand, he wants to eat the moon–there is so little food.

We performed numerous shows for small crowds, mostly mothers and their children; we got to hold newly orphaned infants born with drug addictions. We saw the beauty of the Texas skies and the trauma of many reeling or recovering from domestic violence and of the war. The smiles and laughs were universal and plentiful.

Fears going to a new place…Almost getting ripped off in the airport…My incredibly bad Spanish…Rudi’s incredibly bad driving…Traveling by boat from one town to the next…Hiking to the next village…Local residents opening up their homes to us… Eating delicious homemade rice and beans…Huge piles of drying chilies…The heat…Sweat incurred from a performance…Washing our costumes daily and hanging them to dry in the sun…Tim’s (nevertheless) smelly pants…Getting attacked by ants during a show…Performing at the intersection of two streets in a village, alongside turkeys and stray dogs…Staying with lovely sisters in their convent…Experimenting with new ways of performing…Watching Tim and John get on local people’s bicycles during a show and ride them around…Alexandra’s lovely house in San Cristobal de las Casas…Evening music jams…John’s dog Peaknuckle and his wonderful tricks…Giving awards to each other our final night in Chiapas…Not wanting to return home…