Laughing in the face of danger

I first met Devilstick Peat when we both worked as jesters on Canterbury High Street. He was a true jester, with a comic and skilful juggling routine, whilst I was paid £3.50 an hour to do the odd handstand, balance a musician on my shoulders, and hand out leaflets. He’s still a familiar sight around Kent, but he’s also taken his juggling balls and parachute games to some of the globe’s most traumatised regions, including Iraq, Kosovo, Albania, Northern Ireland, Tamil Eelam in Sri Lanka, Israel, the Occupied Territories of Palestine, Beslan and Albania. Places where adults fight, and children often die or are left bereft of their families, homes, communities and dignity. What good can it do, to go to places where hatred and fear are prevalent. and devastation is often all-encompassing?

A self-confessed ‘fluffy hippy’, but also an ex-soldier, Peat is only too aware that the work he does cannot be considered first aid, or even second aid, but perhaps comes in a close third with reconstruction and reconciliation programmes. He strongly believes, however, that giving children an opportunity to play and to laugh, even in the worst war-torn environments, is an essential part of the healing process. “War really turns children into adults,” he said, “and I just try to turn them back into children again.” Peat’s work in conflict zones has been perilous and traumatic, and he says the best way to survive intact is to have quite a dark sense of humour.
It began when charity organiser Arabella Churchill asked him to get involved with a project for the children of Kosovo. Thinking this would be a fundraising event, he was surprised to find that they would be venturing out to Kosovo to work directly with the children affected by the conflict. Taking their performances and workshops across the region, it was in a field considered the only place in one village guaranteed to be free of mines that the power of this work resonated with Peat. The group had encouraged almost 200 children to participate in their circus and parachute games, laughing, running and generally being the youngsters that their years, rather than their experiences, dictated. An old man watched them, standing close to a corner dedicated to the graves of those who had died in the recent war. His hands outstretched, palms upright in the Islamic stance of worship, a big smile crossed his face and tears ran down his cheeks, as he said that he never thought he would live to see the day that his grandchildren would smile again. Conflict resolution theatre and community arts are an established part of today’s artistic and social culture, with charities such as Save the Children, Oxfam and the Red Cross all valuing and supporting work such as Peat’s. For Peat, his work is more about laughter and forgetting. “I’m not rich enough to take the eight year-olds out of there,” he declares, “but I’m clever enough to take their minds out of there… and that’s the best I can do.”