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The grand finale, to the music of 2001 Space Odyssey, featured the flying act which we saw on the first day, this time wearing luminescent space suits. The lights had to be turned on for a moment when one of the fliers literally became lost in space and had to be rescued from the ceiling. The polished cradle act remained poised even when the lights went out unexpectedly. It was evident that the circus had suffered from recent events, but Ollie Crick insisted that aside from the hiccoughs, the finale was the best circus act he had seen in years.

That night Sophie took us to a tea party where we met her real grandmother, her uncle and a cousin who plans to move to New York to practice dentistry. All spoke English and were eager to hear descriptions of the economic situation in America. Terms like "recession" and "inflation" seemed meaningless compared to the shortages they experience daily, and it is difficult to convince Georgians that for many Americans the picture is not as rosy as it seems from a distance.

THURSDAY

Everyone noticed a high turn-out of female jugglers in Tbilisi. On the convention floor, Anna Bahler from Switzerland sparkled as she practiced some intricate and graceful three club variations, while Susi Oddball kept countless passing patterns afloat.

Among the Eastern delegation, I found Sasha from Latvia to be most intriguing. She is from Riga but currently attends the Moscow Circus School, where she has spent the last year rehearsing from 8 a.m. - 6 p.m. each day. After that she works at home with a mirror for another hour, developing the mime skills which she wants to incorporate into her act. The Georgian convention was a sort of holiday for her. While the other Russians practiced vigorously during their allotted times, she hung around the outside of the ring and lackadaisically tossed 6 yellow balls or played with three clubs.

Later she confessed her frustration with the daily practice routine, saying that it limited her creative development and natural practice rhythm. Sasha speaks quite a bit of English, but conversations tended to deteriorate into spontaneous pantomime routines. She enjoyed being the class clown in Moscow, but took her work very seriously. "I like to meet people's eyes and make them smile - that is most important," she said. Her wish: to come to America, of course.

That afternoon Karen Quest lead 25 of us on a "girls only" excursion to the Turkish baths. Before entering the colorful building, the group juggled outside around the brick domes in an attempt to sell tickets for the final show. Sandy Johnson made many friends with her clowning and balloon animals, and the indefatigable Mikhail Staroseletsky joined in the juggling. Once inside, many were confused by the underground corridors and ended up with no more than a hot shower, but a few found their way to the marble baths.

That night the first of three public shows took place in the circus building, with Mcleod in traditional Georgian costume serving as ringmaster. For the visiting jugglers, it was a challenge to adapt their acts to the circus ring. Many were helped by the band, whose jazzy tunes could be heard throughout the week. Jeff Daymont used the opportunity to add more movement to his impossible cigar box tricks. Fellow Kansan Rex Boyd grooved his way through a funky fire-swinging routine and engaged the audience with some Georgian vocabulary. Frank Olivier relied on the force of his personality and performed some of his trademark pieces. Twelve-year-old Jessica Sheldrick, who came from Yorkshire with her father, braved the carpeted arena in a classy unicycle duet. Cliff, Mary, and little Mary Spenger provided true family entertainment, culminating in a 3-person high shoulder stand with 3year-old Mary on top.

In one of the more creative acts, the multitalented Henry Camus played original piano music while Sean Gandini danced through an ethereal three-ball piece. Camus then followed with his own style of inventive club juggling. Lee Hayes took a break from his convention duties to perform with Fritz Brehm and his giant umbrellas.

The Russian jugglers performed fast-paced routines which exhibited their incredible skills. Oleg Tchapum dressed as a matador and fought the battle against gravity with large numbers of clubs and rings (he did 5-cIub flats in practice). Albert Arslanov from Siberia did an unusual routine jn which he caught one pole on top of another in increasingly far-fetched ways. His stage presence and infectious smile were so energetic that the audience enjoyed the repeated attempts at nailing new moves. He also used a dagger as a mouthstick, catching objects on the edge of the blade, and made many friends throughout the convention.

Mikhail Staroseletsky's practicing paid off. While most acts suffered from a catching shortage, he was virtually flawless, his look of intense concentration never wavering. At one point he kept aloft two large balls, two rings, and a tennis racket, and finished by running across the ring while doing five club backcrosses. The goodnatured sextet Ashvitz, composed of three men and three women, seemed to enjoy their work as they began with four clubs each and then filled the ring with precise passing variations. Their choreography was simple but very effective. It ended with the leader Sergei attempting to catch all the clubs in a net - Frank Olivier took a try and was bombarded as the pace speeded up.

The show came to an exciting close with Sergei Zobolotini, who performed innovative hat and cane manipulations with a snazzy style. By hitting the rim of the hat with the canes he created a floating effect similar to that introduced by old vaudevillian Melody. With one cane in each hand; he then juggled up to four hats by catching them on the ends. Sophie's extended family turned out to cheer us on, and after the show her cousin drove us up a nearby mountain to experience a magical force which, legend says, causes empty cars to roll up a slight incline. It worked!

FRIDAY

I went on the group excursion to a Byzantine church in the mountains. Our chaperones were eager to bring us back right away, but when chants of "Combread and bean soup!" threatened to lift the roof of the bus, they let us stop at an outdoor restaurant for 24 minutes for the best meal of the week.

The show was similar to Thursday's with several notable additions. Maike Aerden from Holland captivated the audience with her radiant presentation of silky smooth diabolo variations. She moved gracefully around the entire ring and finished by jumping over the string six times. Tim Furst of the Flying Karamazov Brothers (every trip should have one) joined in a torch swinging quartet and Canadian Raymond Bolduc presented an original three-ball routine. Karen Quest used whip-cracking to split some hard-to-find Georgian spaghetti. Crowd favorite Markus Marconi won the audience's hearts with his whimsical clown character and gave his young volunteer a memory to cherish.

SATURDAY

The Georgian organizers had hoped to sell enough tickets for the final show to fill the gigantic Sportspalace, an uninspiring venue compared to the atmospheric circus building. But the cavernous void was sparsely filled, and the acts ended up struggling to project across to a drained and dwindling audience. One of the visually effective moments was the opening, in which all the jugglers entered in practiced formations carrying their country's flags.

It shortly became a comedy of errors with a stage that resembled an obstacle course, a quartet which became a trio when it was discovered that one of the members had left on an earlier plane, and an accidental fire on the gym floor.

SUNDAY

Saturday night's chaos was replaced by a beautifully organized farewell banquet in a hotel overlooking the city. Jugglers and their hosts feasted and toasted for five hours. The biggest "gamarjos" went to McLeod and Hayes for organizing the event, which was very affordable for the jugglers even though the price didn't cover the costs. McLeod plans to hold another Tbilisi festival next year, and a convention in Siberia is also in the works.

The week was filled with camaraderie. One person said, "Everyone was made to feel special regardless of the skills they possessed." Many were changed by the experience and plan to keep in touch with their host families.

And no one will forget the very last toast, which took place in Red Square at 3 am. en route to the Moscow airport. For a brief period, juggling filled the otherwise silent square, completely deserted except for straight-faced guards in front of Lenin's tomb. They must have found the sight surreal as jugglers paraded around and chanted for "Independent Georgia." We left behind a jug of Georgian wine so they would know it was not a dream. *

Cindy Marvell is 1990 IJA Seniors Champion currently performing with the Pickle Family Circus in California