Dr. Red Nose’s Diary – Crossing Oceans in Search of the Present

In the year I graduated from high school, I came to Taiwan from Hong Kong with a backpack on my back, a suitcase in my hand, and my family’s abundant blessings, to begin my dream of performing.

When I first started developing some thoughts about performing, I told myself: In the future, I must give back through the performing arts to every piece of land that once nourished me. Because I know very clearly that I love performing not because I want to be famous, nor do I like counting how many large venues I have performed in or how many people I have performed for. What makes me happiest about performing is the connection with the audience in the “present moment.” I feel even more strongly that I should use the thing I love most to inspire others, to make people better and society better.

Then, in the blink of an eye, I was about to graduate, and I began to wonder whether I should return to Hong Kong. But just as I was hesitating, I saw the news that Dr. Red Nose was expanding its presence in southern Taiwan and recruiting clown performers for the south! So I bravely gave it a try, and that was how I began my journey of clown training. That’s right—clowns need training! In addition to technical performance skills such as magic, mime, and puppetry, we also need to learn to face ourselves sincerely and express our desires and feelings in the present moment. (Further reading: The Starting Point and Journey of Becoming a Dr. Red Nose https://lihi.tv/F1KQ5）🧐

To be honest, before coming to Taiwan, I had never imagined that I would stay here after graduating. Staying in Taiwan was an extremely difficult choice for me at the time: “Go home? Or continue to take root and grow in Taiwan?”

Later, I thought it over: The Red Nose Clown Association is a well-structured organization. Besides bringing joy to hospitalized children, their families, and medical staff, the association also places great emphasis on the quality of performances. Regular professional training allows performers to continue improving and growing. Hmm… As a performer, there probably isn’t a happier job than this, right?! So I faithfully followed my heart and stayed. Fortunately, I stayed, because that allowed me to have some wonderful encounters. ❤️

I first came into contact with performing in Hong Kong during high school, but what was very different was that I started with experimental theater. For example, theater companies would create in very abstract ways, using collages of different media or the relationship between space and performers to spark the audience’s imagination and thought. This was my earliest understanding of the “present moment” in theater. After coming to Taiwan to study performing arts, I learned about Brecht in my sophomore art history course; he pursued the “present moment” with the audience through the alienation effect. In my graduation production proposal, I again wanted to try using applied theater, with its emphasis on interaction and improvisation, to find the “present moment” with the audience.

But now I feel that clowns truly taught me what “#thepresentmoment” means. Many people think a clown is a perpetually joyful “character,” and I used to think so too. But the training to become a Medical Clown, as well as my experiences in hospitals, made me deeply realize that when a clown is reduced to an image, it will never be “in the present moment,” nor can it reveal its clever, playful humanity.

I remember one time, a little baby woke up from sleep crying because he was feeling unwell. Lulu (my clown) and Taoki hurried into the hospital room and used a ukulele to sing and play music to soothe the baby. The baby sometimes whimpered and sometimes calmed down; five minutes later, he returned to dreamland in the midst of this process, and we also saw his mother shed tears at that moment.

At that moment, the clown’s music continued. We performers also felt heartbroken and wanted to cry inside, but we held it in. After playing for a little while longer to accompany the mother, we slowly left. I originally thought this was all we could do in that moment, but it wasn’t until I took a class with the French teacher Pauline that I gained a completely different perspective: A clown must honestly face every thought and feeling in each moment, and transform it into a game or an opportunity.

Then, on another occasion, one of our old friends was feeling extremely upset. I call him an old friend because we have known each other for a long time, but he is an adolescent facing the pressures of further education and romantic relationships.

At the time, the hospital room was very quiet, and he was lying on the sofa. Since our clowns were also not very happy because he was feeling down, there were no special games or performances. The clown simply stayed in the hospital room in the same posture as him, saying nothing and quietly accompanying him. Five minutes passed. He picked up his phone, played a song, and told the clowns its title. Nothing happened in that moment, yet so very much happened. 🥰

The children in the hospital are the best performance teachers I have encountered so far. Whether a performance is funny, sincere enough, or truly present in the moment—they know right away.

Clowns love holding joke competitions to see whose jokes are the funniest. The children, of course, are our most important judging teachers! But usually, the clowns’ jokes are terrible. Children generally do not laugh at the jokes; instead, they are amused by the clowns’ reactions. Sometimes a clown gets angry because they think their joke is hilarious—how could anyone not understand their joke? Sometimes a clown gets sad because they failed, and they cry and carry on dramatically. Every gesture and movement reveals humanity and exists in the present moment, making it deeply affecting and very funny.

I have been in Taiwan for more than eight years, and I have worked as a Dr. Red Nose for more than three years. I never expected that I would end up staying in Taiwan for eight years, gaining so much along the way. Now, if you asked me to return to Hong Kong, I honestly wouldn’t know how to move my “heart” back to Hong Kong. 😂

But if you ask me, “Would you want to return to Hong Kong?” Hmm… I really don’t seem to be able to answer. Maybe in ten years, or maybe tomorrow. But no matter what, I will be like my clown and remain true to every present moment. 😌