Osmar has always worked solo, but welcomed the opportunity to work with me. There are very few jugglers in . Nicaragua, and no recreational jugglers or weekly get-togethers at the local park or University. This is partly because few people in this struggling country have the leisure time or extra money for equipment.

 

But, although the circus is popular as entertainment, it is felt to be somewhat vulgar. There is little or no street performing, and Nicaraguans were baffled by why a juggler might choose to work the streets, possibly preferring it to organized circus work.

 

Osmar's insistence on a polished visual presentation adds to his appeal as a per­former. As his willing student and partner, I drilled with him on entrances, transitions, bows, and exits with the same precision devoted to the technical skill of take-aways and pirouettes. Some of that theatrical polish he learned as recently as last fall during an A.S.T.C.-sponsored workshop with visiting circus artists from Cuba. They hope to make these free workshops an ongoing feature of government support for the arts.

 

With juggling as our only common language, rehearsal became an interesting challenge. With much laughter and sweat, we progressed, day by day. As my Spanish gradually improved we developed a working vocabulary for feedback - mas vuelta (overspun), menos vuelta (underspun), mas alto (higher). Calling them clavas and pelotas instead of clubs and balls felt as familiar as identifying myself as a malabarista (juggler). For my next visit to Nicaragua, Osmar insisted we would work on sombrero y cigarillo (hat and cigar).

 

Less than three weeks after first seeing Circo Nacional, I was preparing to perform in the closing act. Costuming me became something of a group effort. One woman loaned me a flashy blouse and sash, another insisted on ironing my pants, and a third woman sat me down and expertly applied stage make-up.

 

Acrobats, clowns, and young children with faces now familiar asked me, "Nerviosa?" "Si, un poco," I replied. Finally, the ringmaster announced "Los Internationalistas, Osmar y Nancy," and our act began.

 

We entered joggling clubs, zig-zagged across the ring, and executed some synchronized solo tricks. A comic take-away sequence came next, ending in a two­person, three club buddy juggle. Choreographed drop-backs followed, and some fast six club passing finished the act. Osmar followed this with his signature sombrero finale. In seven minutes I was backstage.

 

Immediately other performers came over and laughed, "Felicitaciones!" Others offered, "Well done, companera." By the second show I remembered to smile, and by the third it looked like both Osmar and I were having a good time.

 

Juggling in Nicaragua entails some special considerations. One day during a lunchtime meal with Osmar and his family in their camper, he pointed to the dishes holding our rice, beans, and meat. They were from the same set as his spinning plates, and may have been the same plates. Another day while rehearsing, a young woman screamed. Rushing outside, an iguana scurried past.

 

With U.S.-Nicaraguan juggling relations just in their infancy, there is much we can offer each other. The Sandinista govemment welcomes all visitors, particularly those sharing cultural exchange. I strongly recommend visiting this beautiful country to see first hand the changes taking place, and to experience the generosity of the Nicaraguan people.

 

Plan on seeing the circuses. And don't be surprised if you are invited to stay for lunch, or for the rest of the season!