Sophie liked all the other kids in the audience and was particularly impressed with the equal split between girls and boys in the circus. She was less impressed with the large man who sat in front of her just before the show began. 

Was it a rock concert with dance, acrobatics and juggling--or the other way around? It was certainly skillful but definitely not slick. More of a street sense about it. A few rough edges, mistakes, things dropped, a fall, a trip, but easily retrieved through a smile and enthusiasm. These all added to the feeling of participation by the audience, although when "volunteers" were co-opted, Sophie and I clung to each other to avoid being snatched.

"Are the kids forced to do it?" asked Sophie, wriggling and slumping in a theatre seat not designed for kids. I was worried. Media stereotypes of underprivileged and oppressed Africans passed through my mind. Just what had she been watching on TV? Perhaps school was to blame? "Why do you ask?" "They are all working so hard!", was her casual reply as she eyed the youngest members who seemed around her age. "I think they enjoy it. Wouldn't you like to do it?" Sophie was unsure about that level of discipline. Fair enough. "I expect they don't go to school. They wouldn't have time." "I think they do some of it at school."

My five-year-old son was waiting outside and grabbed us as we appeared after the show. "Did anyone dress up as animals?" "No! Of course not," said Sophie impatiently. "But it was really good. Really fantastic."

 http://www.rtimearts.com/~opencity/Adfest

• Circus Ethiopia : le coeur en piste (27/04/98, Brest) 
• Circus Ethiopia : la jeunesse mise en scène (25/04/98, Morlaix)
• Circus Ethiopia : une bouffée d'air chaud (27/04/98, Morlaix)
• Circus Ethiopia : le sourire triomphe (27/04/98, Brest)
  (les articles ne sont plus disponibles sur le site du journal)

                  The 1998 Dublin Theatre Festival opened last night with a power-house performance by a 
                  driving band of voices, strings, wind instruments and tympani stretched across a ramp 
                  upstage and, on a thick green mat downstage, a group of 16 youthful dancers, tumblers, 
                  jugglers and acrobats of beguiling charm. Lithe and lissome at times to the point of 
                  contortion, they pound through their 11/2-hour programme with sustained energy and great 
                  good humour. 

                  The most elaborately sophisticated piece of equipment on stage is a mono-cycle. The rest of 
                  the props are utterly simple: some shields and spears here and there, a plethora of balls, 
                  bats, straw hats, fiery batons and colourful costumes. It's not that they demonstrate any 
                  very novel circus acrobatics or tricks: it's that they do everything in a novel and highly 
                  collaborative manner, whether juggling items, building pyramids of beautiful bodies or 
                  tumbling all over the stage. It is in the minds and bodies that the success lies, in the 
                  dancing which clearly has its origin in Ethiopian art yet can sometimes conjure the sort of 
                  ensemble performance that might well have come from a Busby Berkely movie, and in the 
                  easygoing light humour touching everything they do. 

                  When a particular trick doesn't quite come off, they shrug, smile and sometimes do it again 
                  and sometimes just carry on to the next. What looks, near the end, to be starting as a war 
                  dance between the men is quickly converted by the women into a celebration of peace. And, 
                  while the energy never explodes, neither does it ever flag. Alas, they are with us for only 
                  three days - a very brief tonic. 
 

I saw Circus Ethiopia last summer (97) at WOMAD, Reading. It was one of the most compulsive, exciting and inspiring things I've seen. It's hard to say why, but knowing that these kids put together a highly professional show in a tiny African circus village and resurrected their whole lives' possibilities was part of it. At the end practically the whole audience was shedding tears of joy - I'm not kidding, it was extraordinary. 

The kids range from tiny to late teens, and present a unique combination of western skills with home made props, plus a large amount of very high level acrobatics. I was prepared to be generous and watch a deprived group of kids do some half-baked skills cobbled together into a slightly embarrassing show. Far from it - the skills range from good to incredible, and the show is uniquely African, with lots of narrative scenes, dancing, music, adventure, and audience participation. And they smile! They grin the whole time with such joy, generosity, ebullience - you can't help love them. 

And a funny thing happened. I was sitting with at least 5000 other people watching the outdoor show, some way back. Suddenly 3 Ethiopian kids swarmed down off the stage and into the audience. Aha, volunteer-fetching! I thought, and carefully looked away. A teenager picked his way all through the crowd, and I knew he was looking at me, and his hand came down on my shoulder. I was very determinedly taken onstage. I was requested (in mime of course, speaking no Ethiopian) to follow a few actions in a fun scene which was set up to play tricks on me and the other 2 volunteers.
Then we were positioned carefully in a simple acrobalance at the front, while a couple of their acrobats did incredible dives through/over bits of us.

So did this guy who picked me know that out of all those thousands I was an acrobat used to basing such balances? 

Anyway, watch the programme for some inspiration, and see the live show if you possibly can.