We didn't really have any worries about the plan. Even though it was figured out in the early hours of a random Sunday morning with too much alcohol in the blood and no sleep, it all seemed so clear; South Africa was waiting ahead of us. Hours before coming to this decision we coincidently bumped into an old friend when joining a private party somewhere. We had a nice chat about travelling and she made the proposal of the night: why didn't the two of us, hungering for adventure, go to Cape Town to join a local circus school? Her auntie worked with the circus a couple of years ago and she was quite sure that they would welcome two reckless souls with arms wide open. We had a final toast to a bright future before swaying home with our heads full of ideas of how circus life would be like. I for my part imagined loads of animals, an orchestra playing old fashioned circus music while an old fat sprechtailmeister presented the next act coming up. I'm sure that my travel companion too was tumbling with her own odd illusions about circus life and thus an unspoken agreement arose between us; this was the chance not to miss, therefore buying the tickets before even getting a hold of the circus was so very easy. We were convinced that everything would lead us to the world of circus. Well, predicting what was coming our way would be somewhat impossible. We found a circus for sure - not the least bit what we expected - far better, nevertheless.
Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you: The South African National Circus School!

Behind the yawning African dancer, is circus mama Nicky keeping a close eye on stage. At the age of seventeen, Nicky was a promising figure skater from Sheffield. But falling in love with the Great Dimitri, while he was touring Europe with various circus troupes, made Nicky’s skating career go other directions. She joined the circus and has been in the business ever since. That story is 50% Danielle Steel, 50% Shakespeare, and 100% true.

Roxanne and Robyn ready for the final act: fire ring and African dancing to the beats of Black Eyed Peas. Ivor attacks the beauties from the left. Roxanne to the right is the oldest daughter of the Great Dimitri and circus mama Nicky. We are dealing with a quite serious circus kid. This girl was practicing circus stunts more or less from the minute she was born, and, of course, she rode to school on an unicycle. Speaking of having circus blood running in your veins.

Jamecy, the king of Cool. We didn’t get to meet him that many times, since he was a rare bird in the circus. But he did let us know that he considered himself a designer, that his mother did his braids and that it’s better to stay single.

The trampoline was the hang out spot. We spent dozens of hours waiting for costumers, selling tickets, consuming lots and lots of cool softdrinks, crisps and candy, watching sunsets - and then, finally hit home late in the evening.

The circus artist Marlin poses for the camera. All dressed up like a 18th century Dutch admiral for this evening’s special occasion: a fire show in one of Cape Town’s strip clubs. The circus was hired for a lot of different gigs. Just a week before this shot, we picked up Marlin from a job at some kid’s summer party. Dressed like a clown, walking around on stilts, he was handing out lollipops to the children. Tonight, he is ready to entertain sex-hungry grown ups sporting latex clothes and bottomless panties. Marlin, a chameleon in show biz.

This boy means trouble. Ivor was a charming kind of fellow, who could get away with most things. But still, whenever the police were around he would get a nervous look in his eyes. And indeed Ivor was no angel; he usually started his amusing anecdotes with the same words: "one time, when I went stealing ..." Of course he didn’t always succeed with his expeditions, thus the circus could never really rely on him before a show. Ivor’s adventures also explained his low salary - most of the money he earned in the circus was used when the Great Dimitri time and again bailed him out of prison.

Slow day. During school holidays, the circus had a stand where people could try out the different circus gear.

But on this certain day business went slow and we had nothing better to do than paint each other’s faces like animals and afterwards take turns playing games on the mobile phone.

The Great Dimitri caught in the final preparations, minutes before the culmination of the show: Man in a bottle. No wonder his act was the main attraction: a full grown man, dressed in a super tight techni-coloured unitard and lubed up in vaseline, squeezing his way into a 50 cm tall bottle through an A4 size opening accompanied by a fierce techno beat. Once in the bottle, he would stay there while the audience counted down from ten, and then, gently and delicately work his way out again, this time accompanied by Greek guitarist Mikis Theodorakis. First time you saw the stunt, it left you breathless. Second time, it left you laughing with tears rolling down your cheeks.

Backstage during a show. The tent in which we had all the costumes and gear was always a colorful jungle of make up and wigs, cool drinks and crisps, stilts and honk horns. In other words: total chaos. But in some strange way everything was in fact in its right place, and although the show always started an hour late (due to ‘technical problems’), all acts went surprisingly well. In the picture my travel mate Thilde is taking a rest in between her two performances as clown and African dancer.

Our favorite clown Blessie. He was a real natural with his long gangling body and missing teeth, combined with a perfect timing. It was impressive how the artists could replace those missing at a performance. I suppose this ability was crucial for the show, as some of the guys weren’t exactly reliable attendance-wise. Trouble in Hannover Park, police, and drugs, often left less time and energy for the circus. Still, these were the circumstances and it seemed as if Dimitri had a solid grip on his troops.