McLeod, whose voice is pretty sore by now, introduces interpreters Zurab Revazishvili (who speaks English better than the English) and Guram Akhobaclze, who spends the week racing around and trying to see that everything goes perfectly (he is often disappointed, but nobody seems to mind).

 

Nana Milkadze, the gracious artistic director of the circus, told us that the circus building is the second-oldest in the Soviet Union. Completely circular and surrounded by columns, it rises majestically above the city on a steep hill with a grand staircase leading up to it. The audience is seated all around the ring, making it a very atmospheric and intimate setting for performances. Unfortunately, the building has 19th century plumbing and is in need of some repairs, and now that the circus is no longer being subsidized by Moscow its future remains uncertain.

 

The daily program remained the same throughout the week, although most people chose to accompany their Georgian hosts on various excursions when the schedule permitted. Max and Susi Oddball of England so enjoyed their hosts' company that they disappeared with them for two days and returned with tales of a picturesque village in the mountains ("those lucky bastards!" Mcleod commented).

 

Many hosts seemed puzzled by the convention format, not understanding why jugglers would want to spend time in the circus building unless they were required to.

 

Every afternoon there was an optional group excursion to the old city or a nearby 11th-cen­tury church. Dinner was served in a makeshift dining hall nearby, and provided a nice opportunity for jugglers to socialize before returning for the evening show. Dinners were rather sparse, although the meat was a luxury by Georgian standards. The vegetarians (about 95% of the group) were stuck with bread and tomatoes for both lunch and supper. The concept of vegetarianism was non-existent, as evidenced by the cooks' earnest assurances that they would try to prepare dishes "with less meat in them."

 

TUESDAY

This time I take a proper Georgian shower using the scoop method. Sophie offers to take in English juggler par excellence Sean Gandini, one of 10 people who ended up with no host family and stayed in a hotel the first night (for de­tails, ask the survivors). This evening there is a parade, modified to a gathering in a crowded square to avoid the demonstrations.

 

On the way there I talked with Mikhail Staroseletsky, who yanked me away from the unpredictable Tbilisi traffic whenever I became too absorbed in the conversation. Among the Russian jugglers in attendance, Staroseletsky is unique in that he is a dentist by profession and only juggles as a hobby. In spite of this, he dis­played some of the best technical juggling seen at the convention. This was the first time he has had contact with other jugglers, and he spent the week in a juggling paradise. Earlier that day he gave a demonstration to an ap­preciative ring-full of jugglers in preparation for the public show.

 

He begins with an innovative and mostly indescribable routine involving a tennis racket and up to five balls, working up to a half shower with the racket used in place of his hand. His smoothness and consistency with five and seven-ball pirouettes was very impressive, especially to those of us who attempted to keep aloft the large but very light-weight orange balls he uses. Like all the Russians, he makes his own clubs but has a slower, more controlled style, methodically placing them in the air rather than flinging them ahead of time. Staroseletsky comes from Kazakhstan and his dream is to attend an IJA convention.

 

When we arrived at the games, Staroseletsky attempted club passing for the first time while veterans attempted to pass across a murky fountain in the center of the square and hold the curious specta­tors at bay. As darkness approached, Alexis Lee awed the crowds with a dramatic display of fire eating and Otto Weizzenegger dazzled everyone with his spark-shooting fire diabolo. Maike Aerden and Rex Boyd left the Tblisl group scene to do some street performing and met with great success just inches from the demonstrations.

 

After the games, Sophie took me and Gandini to her friend Thea's birthday party, where we got to sample (abundantly) the famous Georgian champagne amid many toasts.

 

WEDNESDAY

The news of the day is that Alex Pape actually arrived at the convention after a three-day adventure in Moscow immigration. Lumped in with about 25 Kurdish refugees who left Baghdad on foot to escape Saddam Hussein, Pape became good friends with a family who camped in a corridor for seven months before a Swedish family offered to take them in. "I'm kind of glad to have made it here, but it was so sad saying goodbye," said the exhausted devil-stick wizard.

 

For the most part, Western visitors are treated specially, but no one can visit Tbilisi without experiencing some of the frustration with the system which has become a part of everyday life for the Georgians. People work hard to keep up appearances despite the shortages, or utter lack of the most commonplace products (clothing, razors, shampoo, etc.). It is not uncommon to find a large store with only one item lining the shelves, such as salty mineral water. Bread can be found easily enough if you know where and when to shop for it. Fruit and vegetables come from farmer's trucks which pull in on Saturdays. People line up with enough luggage for several weeks and begin loading up on eggplants, tomatoes, grapes and pears. With perseverance, things like coffee, sugar and chewing gum can be found, but they are considered delicacies.