“If you guys could chip in 200 mil Guaranis for the payaso, that would be great,” S stated to J. Payaso meaning clown. J didn’t promise her anything, but informed her that he would do what he could to gather together some funds.

Every year, the neighborhood organizes an event for Dia del Nino complete with food, games, and gift bags for the hundreds of children who turn out for the festivities. As a church, we like to collaborate with them to strengthen our contacts in the area, particularly since our OANSA Primero de Marzo is held in that neighborhood as well. Normally we donate the goodie bags, but since our shipment from the States was likely not going to arrive in time, we inquired about other ways to contribute.

So S brings up the clown. Having already secured food, drink, and toy donations, she requested we help pay for the entertainment. Naturally, clown for me brought visions of puffy rainbow costumes, giant shoes, curly wigs, and red noses. And perhaps some face painting and animal balloons as well.

Meeting with S this morning to finalize the details of the event, J asked her if we need to bring sound equipment and microphones for the clown act. S replied that the clown came with everything. And for good measure, J throws in, “With a colorful costume as well?”

S got a mischievous glint in her eye and smiled, “Oh nooo. She comes in a mini skirt and [pointing at her chest] her equipo. She’s fantastic–she sings, she dances, and she’s really hot. I lobbied for her myself.”

I glanced at J with a suppressed giggle. According to S’ description, our church seriously was about to financially back a scantily clad stripper “clown” for Day of the CHILD. So Paraguay.

In the end, S was off on two accounts. One, the “clown” wasn’t nearly as risque as we nervously expected. Sure, the corset was tight and boobalicious (I suppose S gets points for the equipo), but at least she had bright fuschia tights under the mini.

And two, she couldn’t sing. Please watch the video all the way to the end. Cheers!