Living eight months of the year out of a suitcase, with only a small cubicle in a mobile bunkhouse to call home, would be a lonely proposition to most people. However, in the world of the carnies, while they donāt have a lot, they do have each other.
Their job has changed little over the years, and to excited fair-goers anxious toĀ munch some mini doughnuts or experience the latest stomach-churning ride, these people are for the most part invisible.
That is, of course, with the exception of the stall minders who testily challenge other males to demonstrate their prowess with a sledgehammer, darts or basketball ā a traditional right of passage for many young men.
But this particular night ā like most others ā as the crowds begin to thin, the bright lights of the rides grow dim and the screams of the kids fade, the employees of West Coast Amusements look forward to the end of another long day.
In the parking lot of the South Okanagan Events Centre, barely visible behind the big rigs that haul the equipment, are the staff dormitories.
Arranged in a circle, this is their community, where neighbours sit around after work, share their stories of the dayās events, argue, laugh and sometimes get into a scrap or two.
But unlike the usual town setting, with their nomadic, gypsy lifestyle and few belongings and little privacy, there is a very strong bond.
āWeāre family, like it or not, there is just no other way to describe it,ā said Johnny Iannone during a break from his barkerās duties on the midway.
A university graduate with long grey hair and beard, the child of the ā60s is a bit of an anomaly among his rougher looking counterparts.
āBut in as much fun as we have, there is a lot of pain being carried by individual souls that creates a real dichotomy,ā he said. āWe try to be happy and joyful by day so the people have fun, but at night sometimes we party a little bit too much and fight about this or fight about that.
āBut you have to remember, youāve got a whole big family here and families fight, but the next day itās over. We donāt carry that over, whatever we fought about last night is not brought back the next day.ā
He feels for many of the employees the carnival is a form of healing for a difficult childhood because it brings back memories of the happier times of growing up.
Vanessa Chin is another ācarnie newbie,ā who at age 32 is dealing with her own special issues and she agreed with her friendās assessment.
āItās totally family, absolutely. Weāre all here to make people laugh and have a good time because thatās what we got to do when we were kids,ā she said. āEvery day is different and there is a lot of camaraderie. Youāre a team, youāre a group, youāre a unit, and everybody works together and you look out for each other.
āEveryone cares, no one is ever really out on their own.ā
Having worked the carnivals in the ā90s in England during her teens, Chin decided to give it another go round this summer, but has no plans for the future.
āI donāt know how long Iāll be doing this, I donāt even know what Iāll be doing next week. Iāve always travelled ever since I was little,ā she said, pausing a moment before adding: āI guess Iāve never liked to stay in one spot too long.ā
Ron (definitely not his real name) has worked the carnival circuit for over 30 years and is more the stereotypical carnie ā the one some parents caution their kids about.
A chain smoker with short brown hair, muscular, tattooed arms and a limited vocabulary, he is quick to dismiss any fuzzy warm feeling or romantic nature associated to the work.
āItās a f—— job, and you do what you have to do to survive, thatās all I know,ā he said. āI guess you do make some friends, but not many people stick around long enough. Theyāre lucky if they last a season, thatās because most of them donāt like hard work.ā
About his life and the trials heās faced: ānone of your business,ā is the curt reply.
Iannone agreed there are people like Ron who sometimes give the carnies a bad reputation, but for the most part, he feels the good things they do far outweigh the bad. He regularly has parents thank him for helping make the fair a happy memory for their kids, just as it is for them now.
āI mean call this what it is, nothing but Chinese swag, but the children donāt know that. They just see the prize, and seeing those little eyes light up, thatās what itās all about,ā he said.
And in the end, this particular carnie doesnāt measure his own worth by the things he has or where he lives, but rather by the number of smiles he puts on faces, wherever that may be.
This is the second feature in a two-part series.
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