Pulled to Portugal - From One Circus School to Another



    As my time in the Netherlands continued, it became very clear to me that there was no way that I could continue in the way that I was. I had spent my life savings and all the money that I had made in China (read those blogs if you haven't) to afford my first year of tuition at the circus academy. I was working in all of my spare time to pay for my rent, food, and whatever else I wanted/needed (lots of weed). I was just scraping by, but it wasn't sustainable. Around this time, the first wave of the COVID freakout hit the Netherlands. All of a sudden, the little amount of money that I was using for living expenses was reduced to nothing because the government wasn't allowing me to work as a massage therapist due to the COVID restrictions. Therefore, long story short, I was a bit fucked. I realized that if I wanted to continue my training, I had to change locations. I needed to go to a more affordable school for non-Europeans. Plus, I needed to go to a school where I could easily work on the side of my schooling. Furthermore, I needed that work to be outside "the system" so that I wouldn't have to bend over to any rules and restrictions in the future. Upon expressing my worries to some classmates of mine, they casually suggested that I check out a school in Portugal called "Instituto Nacional de Artes do Circo" (or INAC). This random idea actually made all the sense to me for these reasons:
  • INAC was much more affordable for me
  • I could work the traffic lights (in the future I will do a whole blog explaining traffic lights to those who don't know) on the side - and a bonus, traffic lights work was outside the "the system".
  • To further reduce my living expenses, I could live in a caravan (fuck yeah!) (To rent the space for my caravan was 30 euros per month)
    After considering all this, I was sold. It's not that I was hankering to leave my friends and the school in the Netherlands, but it was my only choice if I wanted to continue to pursue my circus artist dreams. With nothing to lose but everything to gain, I applied to INAC. To be honest, until my friends had suggested the idea of changing schools, I hadn't much considered it. I felt like I had already used up my golden ticket and that it was a miracle that I was ever accepted into any school in the first place. I didn't feel like I could weasel my way into another school a second time. Again, in some ways, I felt like a complete fraud in the circus world. I didn't really know much, especially when compared with my peers. I just somehow managed to slip inside this world through luck and ignorant ambition...but alas, I sent in my online application with all of my training materials and videos. Even a stopped clock is right twice a day. How can one become lucky if they never throw the dice? Half of being lucky is the initial jump into the void. So I did what I love to do most, I jumped into the void. Yeehaw!
It took some time before I received my results from INAC. In the meantime, I did what most circus artists did while the world had decided to shut down in the midst of COVID. I trained like a madman. I trained and trained and trained. For many circus artists, especially those that don't need apparatuses to train (jugglers, handbalancers, and floor acrobats), COVID offered a great opportunity to be anti-social (was literally mandated) and to simply train like a Jedi with a one-track mind. For me, someone who enjoys spending most of my time alone, I selfishly loved it. Finally, I could stop making up excuses as to why I didn't want to socialize. I could blame COVID and just stay in my own world training. I'm only half joking...

    After a month or two, and after having partially forgotten about my application, I received my acceptance email. Naturally, I was electrified with hope. I had found another way that I could continue on the circus path, the path that I had fallen hopelessly in love with. Up until that point, I was feeling destroyed. I remember breaking down during one of my last handbalance sessions in front of one of my teachers. I had confessed that there was no way that I could continue the school and that everything was falling apart in my world. Being the unmoved handbalance teacher that she was, she told me to take a break and then come back so we could continue the training. It's quite hilarious to think about actually. Me, emotionally destroyed and in tears, and then my teacher, undeterred and remaining concerned only about my training. I loved that. I loved the pressure they put on me. I loved that I was treated like a machine. Many would attest against this, but not me. In fact, I miss that. They were teaching a type of discipline that would carry over into other aspects of my life. Although it would take time before I could translate it over. Anyways, back to the story...where were we? Oh yeah, Portugal. So yeah, just like that, I had another adventure on the horizon. What was just a casually thrown out idea suggested to me by my friends ended up changing my life. In reality that's how it usually goes right? Most of the time, what is casual is in fact life-changing.

    As I prepared to leave the Netherlands, I said my goodbye to my friends. My friends with whom I shared the experience of circus school (which is a special type of forged camaraderie). My friends who had literally saved my life (you can read that blog). My friends who shared with me the art of dumpster diving. My friends with whom I played endless amounts of Mario Kart during the first lockdowns of the pandemic (we got really fucking good at that game!). My friends who at times were more loving towards me than I was towards myself. My friends...my friends...my friends...

    ....Fast forward to today. Up until this point, I'd been living the nomadic life for about 9 years. Sometimes staying in some places longer and at other times staying for just a moment, but always inevitably moving. The goodbyes never cease to pang my heart. In the face of others, my demeanor is always more or less that of a strong lone wolf who doesn't feel the pain. Someone who is strong and unaffected. But let it be known here, that when I get on the bus, plane, or train - whatever means that is taking me from one story to another, I always break. I always have a moment of doubt. A moment of wanting to remain attached to exactly what I'm leaving. For just a moment, I want the illusion of security. I want to be with my friends forever. I want absolutely nothing to change. Like the story of Peter Pan, I want everything to remain the same...but I know this can't be. With time, the heavy weight of this bitter fact releases from me just like the tears that my soul squeezes out in these angsty moments. First, there is the discomfort that comes with all of this, but then there is the enlightening realization that these feelings are the feelings of life. These feelings are the feelings of a forged love that is created through the sharing of life experiences. These feelings are exactly the feelings of a life that is being felt and lived deeply. I have no desire to win the game of life, whatever that means. Rather, I prefer to play the game with the utmost gusto that I can gather within me in every moment. These bonds that happen amongst us on this wild journey, in this epic game, are the fruits of existence. At least to me they are. With that realization, I find my peace and once again I'm reminded that this is the path that I must take. It's the path that I choose over and over again. And just like that, I set off to Portugal. Onwards ever.


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