I just returned from Amman, Jordan with 20 and Patch Adams Gesundheit! clown worldwide. We visited the Syrian refugee camps and schools, pediatric cancer hospital and Clowned in the streets. For me it was once again an experience that raises my spirit and restored my faith in a shared humanity.
I have no special talent for clowning, not juggle, play an instrument or make people laugh when they look at me. They see a 6'6 "dancer in pink tutu and tights, with a cap of flamingo, and may not be reproduced in hysteria, but always causes at least a chuckle. People like to have their picture taken with me, serves as an invitation to talk.
People need to tell their stories and connect with someone who will listen with an open heart can help relieve pain. My translators were Jordanian medical students with whom I have come to deeply. Thanks to them, I talked with the children while painting mustaches on their faces, and angry young men and desperate seeking revenge. I spoke with veiled women do not look at me directly, and with an old grandfather who has touched my heart and reminded me why I clown.
Hassan looked older than me, but was actually 10 years younger and he said he had lost everything he had, and now left with what he saw around him. However, he considered himself lucky because he had his family around him. He was surrounded by love, and had faith that things would turn out. I asked a few questions, but mostly I heard the story of Hassan. He lives in a 10 'x 10' tent provided by a relief agency of the United Nations, has a propane stove in the middle, mats, and boxes of food on the edges. There was no electricity or running water, a communal water tank and bathroom squatting with a bucket of water next to it for washing.
When Hassan heard the musicians play becomes a little flute and joins them for a session of spontaneous improvisation. I look and I marvel at this man who has nothing, but do not focus on what you missed, you can make music in this place of deprivation, and change the history of suffering in resilience .
Before leaving, I say it is a source of inspiration for me and I am honored to meet you. Hassan gives me a peace sign, thanked me for coming and told me he loves me. Rip and tell him that I love him too.
I have no special talent for clowning, not juggle, play an instrument or make people laugh when they look at me. They see a 6'6 "dancer in pink tutu and tights, with a cap of flamingo, and may not be reproduced in hysteria, but always causes at least a chuckle. People like to have their picture taken with me, serves as an invitation to talk.
People need to tell their stories and connect with someone who will listen with an open heart can help relieve pain. My translators were Jordanian medical students with whom I have come to deeply. Thanks to them, I talked with the children while painting mustaches on their faces, and angry young men and desperate seeking revenge. I spoke with veiled women do not look at me directly, and with an old grandfather who has touched my heart and reminded me why I clown.
Hassan looked older than me, but was actually 10 years younger and he said he had lost everything he had, and now left with what he saw around him. However, he considered himself lucky because he had his family around him. He was surrounded by love, and had faith that things would turn out. I asked a few questions, but mostly I heard the story of Hassan. He lives in a 10 'x 10' tent provided by a relief agency of the United Nations, has a propane stove in the middle, mats, and boxes of food on the edges. There was no electricity or running water, a communal water tank and bathroom squatting with a bucket of water next to it for washing.
When Hassan heard the musicians play becomes a little flute and joins them for a session of spontaneous improvisation. I look and I marvel at this man who has nothing, but do not focus on what you missed, you can make music in this place of deprivation, and change the history of suffering in resilience .
Before leaving, I say it is a source of inspiration for me and I am honored to meet you. Hassan gives me a peace sign, thanked me for coming and told me he loves me. Rip and tell him that I love him too.
