Clowning Around in Guadalajara

It's as if that Chicago song "Saturday in the Park, I think it was the Fourth of July" was playing as Kyle and I walked the charming streets of Central Guadalajara.  Mexican families joined us walking around town enjoying the bright shinning sun and sights in every direction.  There seemed to be endless plazas and parks and loads of old dramatic colonial buildings, many of which have hidden surprises of old stories or impressive art.  

We had just left an old theatre and were walking around the backside of the building to see a sculpture when we'd unexpectedly walked into a clown show, and he stole me.  Yes, the clown stole me from Kyle's arm, pulled me into his center ring with a good hundred people watching, and demanded a duel.

So, before he makes me a balloon sword, he tries to give me just a balloon.  But, being a clown, he lets go of it right before it gets to my hand and the balloon goes flying in the air, deflating while the audience laughs.  Mexican clown 1, Kyle 0.  

After we both have proper balloon swords, he threatens to cut off my head (with a balloon) and we commence "fighting".  At this point, I really don't know what I am supposed to do.  Am I supposed to kill him?  Is he supposed to kill me?  Do we kill each other in some sort of Shakespearean tragedy?  Anyway, we commence a back and forth battle until I stab him (assuming balloon stabbing is possible).  He does a slow motion death scene and ends up standing on the edge of a fountain, looking like he is going to fall in.

At this point, I don't want him to fall into the water, because if he does, he's going to look like a crazy wet clown and how is he going to make money soaked in dirty fountain water?  So, I act like I am pulling him back and he starts to really lean into the water.  Now, I'm not acting and I'm really holding him from falling into a fountain.  I want to say to him "Clown, the water gag is not worth it.  You can make more money not looking like a clown pulled from the sea.", but eventually he gives in and allows me to pull him ashore.    


It felt a bit like this clown show might never end, but at the same time I loved it.  I stood by on center stage as this clown dashed about making one dramatic gesture after another.  At one point he'd handed me the swimming noodle made into a baton that he was restraining Kyle with, and I gave him a few swats on the behind.  Take that clown.  

He then took out a long balloon, and in place of him stretching it himself, he dramatically handed me one end and blew a whistle with each baby-sized stomping step, pausing every so often to turn to me to be sure we both deeply nodded our heads up and down that I wouldn't let go of my end.  I, of course, got the pleasure of seeing the moment in which to let go, and gave the crowd a mischievous, "I'm going to do it" smirk, and with a smile sent my end of the balloon shooting the 10 feet in his direction.

At some point, Kyle stabbed the clown's hand and he began to cry.  I, being the captive damsel in distress, knew my role to give his hand a kiss and heal his wound.  Well, I opened a can of worms because the clown took off his coat, put it over Kyle's face, and give me his right cheek for a kiss (big smile to the crowd), gave me his left cheek for a kiss (big smile to the crowd), swatted Kyle on the head for trying to peak, and then put his big clown lips my way wanting me to lay a big one on him.  I was showing him my wedding ring and shook my head no at the same time Kyle got out from under the jacket and stole me back from the clown.

Apparently, clowns in Mexico don't just work for fun, they actually want money!  He picks up his hat, which has some change and a 50 peso bill in it ($5 US), holds up the bill so that the crowd can see it and demonstrates how to put the 50 peso bill in the hat.  Now he comes over to us, where he expects we will do just how he demonstrated.  This clever clown thinks that peer pressure will make us give him bundles of money, but he clearly doesn't know me well (also, I only had a 200 peso bill in my pocket and there's no way I'm giving him 20 bucks for this).

So, I take out our change purse and empty it into his hat, turning it upside down to tell him "That's it, buddy.  That's all we have."  He did some acting to the crowd to show that all we gave him was measly change, which he probably would have done, anyway, even if we gave him a thousand pesos.

At this point, we probably could have walked away and gotten on with our day, but since I am somewhere in between and idiot and a sadist, I decided to take his coat, which was now at my feet, put it on, and start walking away with it, waving as I went.  He noticed this and demanded that I bring it back, now acting like a customer leaving a fancy french restaurant, holding out his arms, waiting for someone to put his coat on him.

Fine, but I'm still going to get the best out of him, so I put his coat on him backwards and start walking away.  He stomps his feet and demands that I put it on correctly.  Fine, clown!  Geez!  After some struggling because he won't bend his arms (think Christmas Story, "I can't put my arms down!"), I finally get his coat on him and walk away.

You think that would be it, but, now, Clown comes running after us and wants a picture with me.  Ok, fine.  One clown picture and then we're back to seeing some historical stuff.

After the picture, we briskly walk away hoping that would be the end of our ordeal.   

We of course indulged this clown as he went through his vast repertoire of circus tricks.  The crowd loved it.  It was one burst of laughter and applause after another, and we were his accomplices in his well-sewn clown show.  I'm not sure whether we were easy foreign targets he wouldn't let walk out of his circus show or we perhaps looked to be exotic adventurers and stood out from our on-lookers as his opportunity to yield big tips from the crowd.  

For the rest of the day, we didn't feel so bad about ignoring the street hawkers because, hey, a clown took all of our money.  Either way you spin it, my knight in shining armor (or maybe shining beard) rescued me from a ridiculous street clown that I kissed center-stage in Guadalajara.