Delia Meyer's Update from Lesotho - July 8th, 2008

A Winter Expedition in Lesotho? Am I crazy? My fingers are so cold, they’re numb, and my toes feel like they’re about to fall off… I miss my Mom… I lie in bed until the last minute, warm some milk in the outside kitchen, put on the pieces of my layered clown costume bit by bit, shivering. On the drive to the clinic we’re going to do a clown visit at, we pass through vast expanses of land, interweaved with deep gorges. Today it is dark cold, yesterday it was dry and browny- green, the other day, the rain looked grey. There in the distance, a lone, tall man stands on a mountain rock, draped in a blanket designed with a mielie motif, surrounded by lush Angora goats. A young boy on a donkey passes by, other children wave. I fall asleep on the way until we get to a rocky part where the road is not tarred. When we get to St. Rodrigue’s Clinic, it’s so high up, it’s like another planet. I’m a little light- headed from the altitude. When I open the door, the air is thick and tangible. At the HIV/Aids Clinic, mother’s and children are waiting to see the doctor. As Jamie McLaren Lachman (Banjo), Sibongile Tsoanyane (Nhhunu), and myself (Fwing) enter, we sing and dance, do a routine here and there, some balloons, some magic. I sit between two mothers with their babies gurgling at me. We all dance, some in our chairs; we play, some in our hearts; lots of smiles. By the end, people are up on their feet singing and dancing along with Jamie’s banjo. When we walk outside, it starts snowing. My heart feels like a heater- warm, pulsating and radiating joy way out into the mountains and the vast blue sky.Back to the campsite, we grab quick lunch and make sandwiches for workshop participants. In the 2nd week of the expedition, I am facilitating workshops for a Theatre Group in Malealea who use theatre to talk about, show and educate people around issues such as HIV/ Aids. At the workshops, we explore our senses; talk about compassion for the characters we play; stretch our bodies which are more flexible than we think; talk about our feelings; resist some exercises that are too outside our comfort zone; breathe and discuss breathing. We make eye/ touch contact with each other; use our imaginations; have big visions for ourselves that start with small steps. We show commitment and courage in the workshops, the work we do and our lives. After the workshop, in a closing circle, we drink tea and talk. Some women take 5 sugars in their tea. In the village around the Malealea Lodge where we are staying, the rate of HIV infected people is 32%. The children here really seem to work hard- in the fields herding livestock and moving big bags of ground corn. When it snows, people don’t like to go outside. The villagers cook on open fire inside a round hut with thatched roofs. The people in Lesotho, mostly men, travel on horses and donkeys. As clowns, we do not BRING laughter and joy because it is there already. Children’s faces break into smiles so easily. Their eyes open as wide as the land they inhabit. We do not BRING connection because community is intrinsic to African communities, who take in and care for families and children who have experienced loss of other family members. In this community in particular there are also established HIV/ Aids support groups. I think what we are allowed to do with clowning and teaching, is to facilitate a space and process where we can touch humanity. - Delia Meyer