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They all can fly

South Africa's Zip Zap Circus works to end racial segregation and foster trust, dedication and teamwork.

Like most of his pupils, Van Rensburg comes from a broken family. He grew up poor and white in a shanty in Cape Town's Observatory suburb; by age 10, he was bouncing on a trampoline. Six years later, he was a professional trapeze artist. He travelled through Europe, the U.S. and the Caribbean, where he met Esteve while performing at Club Med. She learned the circus trade from him.

In 1991, they went on vacation to South Africa together, after Van Rensburg had to stop performing because of back trouble. There, he acquired a new ambition: He'd start a free circus school for the young people he saw hanging around on the streets. The school would be a base for them, a place they could learn circus acts - and in the process, lessons on building a society with other people. He went recruiting at his old high school, another school in a black township and a shelter for street kids. A year later, the first pupils - white, black and mixed-race - were flying through the air.

Kids who join Zip Zap can decide for themselves how often to come and how long to stay. Some have been here since the beginning. The dozens of members are divided into three groups: the most promising artists, pursuing careers in the circus; those for whom the circus is a hobby; and kids with HIV who regain their self-confidence by doing the acts.

The circus supports itself through performances and international tours (20 in 15 years). Nelson Mandela is a fan, and so is Canada's famed Cirque du Soleil, with which Zip Zap collaborates. There's no dearth of quality here. Shortly before Andiswa Nkebendu and Portia Kewane signed their American contract, Zip Zap's Jose Dorego and Kagiso Mutlane - the Joka Boys - won a Golden Clown at Cirque de Demain, Paris' international circus festival.

Sooner or later, many young South Africans from slums and broken homes get involved in alcohol, drugs and gangs. Van Rensburg often sees problem cases. His principle is to be tough but fair. Drug or alcohol use gets you a warning; three warnings and you can pack up your stuff. "But there's no warning for stealing," he says. "That's it - you're out."

Andile Poni, 29, was one of those problem cases. He was part of the first crop of Zip Zap artists in 1992. "I joined the circus because I like challenges," he says. "I wanted something different, and there weren't many circus artists of my colour." Poni - small and slight - became a clown, acrobat and juggler. After a couple of years, he left Zip Zap to work at a brewery. One day almost 10 years ago, someone tried to rob him with a knife. Poni took away the weapon and beat up his attacker so badly that the former clown ended up behind bars for six years.

In his cell, Poni came to his senses. He remembered what he'd learned during his years with the circus, and the oft-repeated mantra "Respect, love, trust." "We were like a family," Poni recalls. "We slept and ate in the same room. It didn't matter what colour you were. Brent and Laurence were like a father and mother to us."

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