Authorized Translation Amman .pdf
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Authorized Translation Amman
I've just returned from Amman, Jordan with Patch Adams and 20 Gesundheit!
clowns from across the world. We visited Syrian refugee camps, and schools,
pediatric cancer hospital, and clowned in the streets. It absolutely was for me
personally once more an event that lifted my spirit and restored my faith in a
shared humanity. Authorized Translation Amman
I don't have any special talent for clowning, I don't juggle, play a guitar or
perform, people just laugh when they look at me. They visit a 6'6″ ballerina in
pink tights and tutu, wearing a flamingo headdress, and they could not double
over in hysteria, but it always elicits at the very least a giggle. People love to
own their picture taken with me, which serves being an invitation to talk.
People need to inform their stories, and connecting to someone who listens
having an open heart can ease the pain. My translators were Jordanian medical
students with whom I bonded deeply. Through them I spoke with children
while painting mustaches on the faces, and with angry and despairing
teenagers who sought vengeance. I spoke with veiled women who would not
look at me directly, and having an old grandfather who touched my heart and
reminded me why I clown. Authorized Translation Amman Jordan
Hassan looked more than me but was in reality 10 years younger and told me
that he lost everything he had, and was now left in what I saw around him.
Still, he considered himself lucky because he had his whole family around him.
He was surrounded by love, and he had faith that things would turn around. I
asked some questions, but mostly I listened to Hassan's story. He lives in a 10′
x 10′ tent provided with a UN relief agency; it includes a propane stove at the
centre, sleeping mats, and boxes of food across the edges. There was neither
electricity nor running water, a communal water tank and one squat-down
toilet with a water bucket alongside it for flushing.
When Hassan hears the musicians playing he gets a tiny flute and joins them
for a spontaneous jam session. I watch him and marvel as of this man who
owns nothing, but does not focus on what he's lost; who will make music in
this host to deprivation, and change a tale of suffering into among resilience.
Before leaving, I tell him he is an inspiration in my experience and I'm
honoured to meet him. Hassan flashes me a peace sign, thanks me for coming
and tells me he loves me. I tear up and tell him I enjoy him too.