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El Circo (1st Friday Night)
Was beyond feliz when Miss Sole, another teacher at the jardin, asked if I would like to accompany her to ´the most famous circus in Chile´ on my first Friday night. Of everything it is the weekends that worry me the most as am utterly larifyed and sin amigos in this new country.
Miss Sole speaks fairy good English having studied in dear blighty for a couple of months. What an adventure, a trip to the circus (with real live animals!) and a taster of public transport to the next town! It was necissito to take the micro (a small bus, seats about 25 with token picture of Jesus behind the driver) and was nearly taken out by a pair of children´s daps, dangling by their laces. Was still on mother’s uber- mugger- watch mode and the first thought that came to mind was that in America when someone is shot they toss their sneakers up over the telegraph wires. In fact some kid had just forgotten them. Claro - note to self CHILL. Arriving in Quiota (a couple of towns away) began to get a bit of a twitch on, it was post
9 o clock after all and people were bustling around small tiendas for fruit & veg, pan and floras, businesses open so much later here is much more convenient.. Hands clamped to sides, marched down the narrow streets with Miss Sole, keeping an eye out for anything circus related and skirting the stray dogs, which I was beginning to fear would be the only savage beasts I encountered that night. A couple more dodgy streets with boarded up windows and graffiti and at last there is was. El circo of childhood picture books was to be realized. Get me to that elephant.
Once seated we became the centre of attention for a steady stream of salesman. Subtle marketing techniques seemed to have passed the peddlers of glow-in-the-dark tat by. I may have been quite tempted by the photo of ´me and miss sole´s trip to the circus´ - if the cameraman hadn´t sent my neck into bend-and-snap spasm by launching a zoom lens in my face with no prewarning. Shivering with anticipation the show began. Over 20 children bounced, catapulted and flip-flapped into the ring. They love children here. Like seriously adore them, the rather spattered crowd were clapping and cheering at as little as a forward roll. Then Batman did some nifty sword balancing, Zorro appeared to crack a whip and the clowns also merit a mention for being the first and only ginger´s I have seen here. Absolutely terrifying and didn´t understand a word. It was for the animals we stayed.
During the interval tension in the tent grew. The blue overall clad circus hands erected a mamouth cage around the central ring. This rather ominous cage was then adorned with a selection of wicker stools more suited for grandma´s pagoda - if they were not the height of the average Chilean man. But this was not the time for questioning the décor for the lights dimmed and the music crescendoed and out strode a cocky man in skin tight velvet and sashyaying his whip, shouting ´´JYAR´´ at sporadic intervals. Six tigers padded into the ring behind him and obediently climbed onto the patio furniture. Tigers are massive. I have never appreciated this until sat about eight rows back and envisioning even my most cumbersome Spanish dictionary being casually swiped away by one dismissive paw. The tigers then languidly strode around the ring, posed on the stools and two when aggravated unclamped their jaws and made appropriate ferocious noises. The tigers at least were a group, they had each other. One of them probably grunted post performance, ´well lads, onwards to the next. See Child in t4th row looked a bit porky. Remember ´84 when t´toddler stuck his arm through cage´(these are tigers from west Yorkshire apparently). After they had ambled off and their master had finished lapping up the applause the tent darkened, except for a single spotlight. Enter the elephant . . .
O Nelllie, why did you not rally for your brethren to follow? The elephant was a sad sight to witness. This great beast that looked as though it had lived through a couple of world wars, lolloped around the circus ring while a 9 year old in blue velvet posed on its mighty head. I could barely watch as the great beast was commanded by the flick of a whip to lie down and roll over. There was a certain crudity about the whole performance and the elephant´s submission. And the slant of its heavy eye lids reminded me somewhat of Michael Parkinson´s drooping brows. Imagine this beloved national treasure at the command of a tweenie, and you will have some idea how it feels to watch such a spectacle.
When the elephant could trumpety-trump no more the cage was quickly deconstructed while another ginger clown gallivanted about with a comedy car and a stuffed toy tiger (about as threadbare as its living counterparts) before more animals were sent to perform. After these two mighty beasts of the wild nothing was really going to compare. Though the little camp chappie in flared trousers and bolero gave a honed performance with 9 dancing horses, that tripped and plied there way around the ring. Flicking their tales and criss-crossing their hooves in a more elegant dance than I have yet managed. It gave me some satisfaction to see the precocious 14 year old, in red spandex and mullet, who had been so energetically wiggly his bum earlier be sent on pooper duty, dashing into the ring to sprinkle sawdust whenever a pony leaked out a nervous tinkle.
Can´t really remember the rest of the circus after this, think there were more clowns but could barely register the radioactive carrot of their locks as I shivered incessantly and the clock stuck 11:30.
Another initiation into public transport on the way home, my first ever collectivo. These are brilliant and ingleterre needs to get involved. It does the same route as a bus, but it’s a car. Much more comfortable and offering the possibility of being dropped straight to your door (if you´re an ignorant English speaker in Chile it reduces the witnesses of the fumble for the refugee poststick note and home address). Jimmy Saville´s clunk-click-every-trip hasn’t caught on here. If you actually get a collectivo with seat belts, it’s unlike anyone will be using them, this includes the driver. Children seem to be the preferred method to secure you in place. Our ride home saw the 2 little ones lodged onto laps in the manner of stack cups - and quickly dismantled with expert ease when we arrived at our destination.
Crawling through the front door, Quasimodoed with cold I stumbled into the living room thinking of nothing but sleep to find manuel, chinga and mali enjoying the delights of that cinematic classic ´Dias del camions´ - Day of the Lorry Drivers. Collapsing on the sofa it proved excellent viewing with a variety of torture techniques including branding if the dice showed 4. This was followed by another epic ´Wrong Turn 2´. Texas inbred hillbillies, bbqing the ´´hotbodies´´ of reality show contestants. Would highly recommend watching in Spanish with English subtitles. Includes the immortal line ´´O my god! That´s mel´s tattoo. We´ve just eaten her leg´ which is by no means lost in translation. And a brief moment of fellatio which comes complete with description ´mellissa gulping´. Overall Chilean rating? 7 out of 7. And that´s your Chilean cultural titbit for today, everything is marked out of 7. gracias. Todo bien. Chow. xx
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