They all can fly

South Africa's Zip Zap Circus works to end racial segregation and foster trust, dedication and teamwork.

Fred De Vries | April 2008 issue

A circus? Twelve-year-old Andiswa Nkebendu, raised by her mother in the notorious Khayelitsha township near Cape Town, South Africa, had never heard of such a thing. When a friend took her to the Zip Zap Circus rehearsal studio, a new world opened up for her. Kids her own age were hanging from ropes and swinging from a trapeze. Andiswa wanted to do that too. She applied, and soon she was part of the human pyramid. After that, she balanced in the rings. The trapeze eventually became her specialty.

And now, seven years later, Andiswa and her 21-year-old friend, Portia Kewane, are stealing the show at the O.R. Tambo Hall, Khayelitsha's community centre. Their arms and legs are twined together, high above the ground. The audience stares open-mouthed at the two young women; they could break their necks any second. But it all ends well. Andiswa and Portia are so skilled on the trapeze by now that they've just signed a contract with the UniverSoul Circus to spend two years performing in the United States.

America! Away from the slums, crime, murder and rape that have made Khayelitsha one of the most dangerous places in South Africa. Sure, she nods, smiling broadly, of course she'll miss South Africa. Her mother especially. But her 'family' of circus performers too. This isn't her first time abroad though. "We've travelled all over Europe with Zip Zap," she says nonchalantly.

What would Andiswa be doing now if she hadn't joined Zip Zap? "Hanging around on street corners," she says without hesitating. "Doing nothing, like all my friends from school. They really look up to me now."

The man who helped Andiswa Nkebendu scale such acrobatic heights is standing a little way down the hall. Brent van Rensburg is stocky, with dark curly hair tied in a ponytail. Thirteen years ago, he and his French wife, Laurence Esteve, drove his delivery truck - with ropes, mats and a bunch of kids in the back - to a Grahamstown art festival for their debut performance. It was the beginning of the realization of his dream: starting a circus school for underprivileged South African kids, an environment in which colour didn't matter, and trust, dedication and teamwork did. Emphasizing play and interaction, the circus would bring together kids from starkly different backgrounds. Whether your pal was rich or poor, black or white, when he's flying through the air, you don't let him fall.

"Kids are colour-blind," says Esteve. "They live together and play together. If you teach them to get along with each other in a safe environment, they'll quickly come to trust each other."

Van Rensburg adds, "Away from the politics and the bullshit," referring to the violent times around the first democratic elections in 1994. "We wanted to see if we could make a difference." His circus would be a rainbow nation at the micro level.

1 2 3 NEXT >>
view as a single page