I began to realize the difference between our club and him. Our goal is to learn as many tricks as possible - the harder the better, no matter how clumsy they are. Sergey, however, perfected his tricks down to the arc of each ball.

He showed a superb mastery of technical juggling at the club meeting as well. Although he told us that he was rusty, all his tricks were highlighted with little artistic flourishes. His skills could have been intimating to us ama­teurs, but Sergey's friendly attitude made us feel comfortable.

The rhythmic beat of the clubs against his hands filled the room as Sergey performed a flawless club routine. After three and four balls, he moved on to some very demanding five ball tricks. He ended with six, seven and eight ball multiplex tricks.

Throughout his demonstration, Sergey kept commenting on the quality of our equipment. "Ojuun" makes many of their props, and practices with awkward clubs and homemade diabolos. Suddenly I felt guilty for owning professional quality clubs, and realized that Sergey probably couldn't afford the silicone balls he borrowed. However, it was evident that Sergey could dazzle audiences no matter how poor his equipment.

We were also impressed by his desire to teach. In Siberia Sergey has a small studio that functions as a juggling school for about 20 children. He said he would like to raise a few thousand dollars and buy some good clubs, balls, and rings for the school.

He gave the club several posters and other promotional material. A few days later a friend and I went to deliver him some copies of Juggler's World, videotapes, and prop catalogs in return. We settled into a casual conversation over coffee. I learned that the middle-aged Siberian has been juggling since he was 15. He taught himself to juggle and later attended a circus school in Moscow.

For our entertainment, he did some impromptu pantomime routines, pursuing them with a childlike eagerness. Clearly, he loved his art and not the fact that he was the artist.  He drew attention to his tricks and not to himself. After meeting this man, I can never again look at juggling as simply a skill, for Sergey as shown me that it is an art. Sergey is a humble artist who has touched hearts and made many people smile.

He flew home to Siberia the next day, where is troupe and juggling school were waiting.  Sergey and Marfa invited us to Siberia, hoping we could attend a festival there. He assured us lat we would meet again, possibly next year at the Festival of Native Arts.     

David Harris is a sophomore at the University of Alaska Fairbanks seeking a degree in summer igloo maintenance (English). He moved to Alaska so that he actually could walk to school each day in 10 feet of snow, at 40 below zero, uphill both ways, barefoot and frostbitten.