Sunday, June 6, 2010

Eviction Notice

Besançon marked a difficult period with my circus. Personal difficulties aside, there were also the multiple flu attacks, more changes to the show and a couple of other unpleasant surprises. The first of those unpleasant surprises was the notification that the company would no longer be bringing the caravans on tour.

I don't actually have a home in France. I have a mailbox that my mail goes to and other than that, I couchsurf. My caravan, the lovely oatmeal wagon, was the closest thing I had to a home in France. Et voila, now its gone.

This news was unsettling. But it became infuriating when I learned that the circus wasn't ceasing touring with the caravans. It was, in fact, only ceasing to bring mine.

I'm exaggerating. But only a little. They will in fact continue to bring three caravans on tour. That of the maintenance guy (understandable) and two for some of the founding members, or, the people who need it the least.

I have no home in France. C has no home in France. A stays with his girlfriend between dates but basically lives out of a suitcase. We actually lost something very valuable to us when they took our caravans away. It would have been one thing if they stopped completely, but to take the caravans away from those who depend on them and to continue carting around caravans for people to whom it makes absolutely no difference? Really?

A circus is a community. In a community, you want for people to feel welcome, to feel at home, to feel like they matter. Taking away the caravans felt like being flipped off with a simultaneous shrug of the shoulders.

C and I managed to bargain a second trunk for our belongings. Also, a number of things have been tossed into the caravans that will continue to go on tour. Bedding, pee buckets, etc... You may be wondering why we didn't fight. Why we didn't speak up. The truth is, by the time I learned that there would in fact be caravans continuing on tour, I was already resigned to the fact that I would no longer have one. I had made a certain peace with it.

In a lot of ways, it works out well. Before, I would have to think "Okay, I won't be back in the caravan for five months, what kind of clothes will I need in that time and what can I leave here?"

Now, everything follows me. I can pick and choose as I go and I only need to plan a reasonable two weeks in advance, not months. Everything is right there, all the time.

What I really don't get, though, is why they won't sell the caravans that are no longer in use. They say they won't use them anymore, and yet they would rather let them rot in some storage lot instead of selling them to interested parties.

I have learned that regardless of the company or organization, there will always be things that completely boggle the mind.

And now, dear oatmeal wagon*, we salute** you!

Paris, winter 2009

Salins-les-Bains, first research period, spring 2008


Besançon, the final days, spring 2010




* The brand of caravan is Gruau, which is the French word (in Canada, not France) for oatmeal.
** This is a super lame salute as it would seem that I have virtually no pictures of my beloved caravan.

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