Our church is undergoing renovation and we need fund for the construction. Thus, the committee decided to hold an acrobatic show. That’s how I find myself sitting here on a plastic chair beside the walls of a gymnasium. I think I arrived just in time. The ticket says 7:30pm but it’s already eight and I’m not seeing any action. I drum my fingers out from boredom for the next one hour.
My first saliva is about to drop when the show finally started. I wipe it from the back of my hand and rub it in my pants. I know I doze off but I don’t want anyone having evidence. There is a cranky music and all the performers run through the center stage, each of them bowing as their names are mentioned. I am tempted to cover my ears, the music banging my ear drum like a stand-alone cymbal without a pattern of rhythm.
Finally, they start to gather in a platform, eight meters from the ground, and performing God-who-knows-what formation. But I like the Arabian formation; I know the name since the child besides me keeps shouting “here’s the Arabian!” and the other children replies in unison. The formation involves four men. One is standing on the other’s shoulder while the other two is hanging on each side, attached by the hands of the upper men, with their feet thrust into the air. They move with coordination, as if it is one body. The speaker counts 1 to 8 in an aerobics instructor tone.
After a series of exhibition, an acrobat attempts to stack 8 chairs, vertically. He is now in his second chair. As he steady its leg above the previous chair, the object drops into the mid-air but the acrobat grabs the handle swiftly. He taps his chest three times, reassuring us that all is well. When he is finish with the last chair, he pulls a stunt, standing in the tower of chairs with his hands. His foot touches the gymnasium’s lights. I am at awe. My mouth was wide open, my whole fist fits.
The clowns are now appearing of nowhere. There were three of them. Only one is nasty-looking, it wore a thick red lipstick and his eyes bulging from their sockets. The two clowns are in accomplice in stealing the other clown’s hat. He finally gets his revenge by chasing the two with a hoop light with fire. They climb up in a post to save themselves. We all laugh.
The last is a basketball game. All of the performers got a unicycle: 3 feet, 5 feet and 12 feet. They helplessly dribble the ball and the clown appeared now and then for the comic relief. Now, I find myself damp from sweat and shouting with the crowd in unison “Fast Break!”