Aparnna Hajirnis connects with Neha Vyas and Rupesh Tillu of Clowns Without Borders, who perform in war torn areas and refugee camps
“Clowns Without Borders is an organisation that I have been associated with since the past 10 years,” shares Rupesh Tillu. “We provide psycho-social aid. In simple terms, we bring artistes to places where children live under stressful situations, and make them laugh. Laughter is a tool that is capable of transforming lives, gives hope and has been scientifically proven to reduce stress. As Clowns Without Borders we offer hope.”
It was his stint in Sweden that introduced him to Clowns Without Borders. A serious and a consummate actor, he attended a clowning workshop by a trainer from Germany to realise “that I had been doing this my whole life. I just wasn’t aware that it was called clowning.” It sparked his interest in the art form, following which he applied to Clowns Without Borders in 2007 and was accepted into a six-month international programme, in Sweden. He joined them full time the following year.
“For me, clowning is a philosophical human condition,” he explains. “A clown’s job is to comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable (the famous artist Banksy’s quote). It’s not a clown’s or an artist’s job to solve problems but to show the proverbial mirror to society as if to say, ‘Look, you have these issues.’
We are not here as problem-solvers’; politicians are there to take care of that. We aim to raise our voice as a means to create awareness regarding the issues prevalent around us.”
Co-clown Neha, who recently performed on an international CWB tour, shares that she did have apprehensions before leaving for the Rohingya camps of Bangladesh. She shares, “Rupesh has performed for Syrian refugees from Serbia. He had told me that you should not patronise the children. As a clown, a child yourself, you have to engage with them, not yell at them if they do something wrong, and understand that a clown’s status is lower than that of a child’s.”
As a result of the trauma, children in war-torn zones are either extremely timid or really aggressive. From being pelted with sand balls to having the clown costume torn, these responses are not uncommon. “But the idea is that they would treat you as a toy, they see you as one,” Rupesh interjects, as he goes on to share a heart-wrenching tale… “I have performed in Israel, Palestine, Egypt among other places. I was in Greece, in Lesbos, when the boats were coming in. We helped pulling them and they had small babies on board. We performed there in a camp organised by the UNESCO, and one man was laughing so hard and his hand was broken. He told us, ‘Oh, that was so nice. I’m so glad you made me laugh. Yesterday, my son died.’ I looked at my friend and we were speechless. And he went on, ‘You know what? My daughter was saved. I couldn’t save both, but now we are here…’”
The biggest challenges that they face as clowns without borders? “We don’t get killed!” Everyone laughs but Rupesh isn’t really joking. “I’ve experienced stone pelting, we were stopped by Israeli soldiers, sent back, once a gun was pointed at me in Jerusalem…anything can happen. The challenge in our work with Clowns Without Borders, is that you have to be a little bit mad; then only can you understand the ‘mad’ world. We are all pretending to be sane, in an insane world, which puts us in a totally different zone, and while on tour with Clowns Without Borders, thoda crack hona zaroori hai!”
Among their biggest takeaways from performing in refugee camps for children, is the realisation that children have very strong memories. “A child remembers forever,” declares Rupesh, as he narrates an anecdote about performing at a theatre festival in West Germany in 2016. “After the performance, a teenaged boy kept looking at me and saying, ‘Popo, Popo.’ He couldn’t speak English, and took out a picture of us performing in Lesbos. When he came from Syria, he saw us in the camp. Then he gained asylum in Germany. He told the German translator, that he and his brother were doing our act during the whole journey from Lesbos to Germany. He was crying when he saw me.”
“What clowning teaches you is extremely vulnerability. It just opens you up to being stupid,” believes Neha, as Rupesh adds, “It puts you in a situation where you are a being, just on the brink of death! That vulnerability, that state of being that a clown reaches is difficult to attain. Clowning unmasks you.”
…And clowning at the borders clearly changes you for life.
