Simone van Kan, humanitarian adventurer, never anticipated journeying to Sarajevo to bring aid and entertainment to children in war-torn Bosnia. She was first enticed by a boyfriend’s vision and her group’s collective enthusiasm for a plan to help out in orphanages en route back home to New Zealand, following her OE.
“We fundraised in London,” says Simone, co-founder of the ‘most rock- n-roll aid agency of the 90s’ ” Then we bought a red London double-decker bus for impact, and to fit in more people and gear.”
They linked with other aid agencies for contacts, but when they reached the Ionaseni orphanage in Romania, the shocking spectacle of abandoned children kept Simone hiding away at first and focusing on admin. That changed when she left the bus for a two-month stint at the orphanage with Moona, a Scottish guy who’d been there for years.
“It transformed me,” Simone said. “He taught me that the children had names and personalities. We’d hug and hang out together, which opened up a link with them that drew me back several times in the years to come. The peacefulness of the place, horse and cart transport, washing with water from the well, interacting with the locals – it brings you down to earth,” she told me. “Neither did it hurt having a summer romance.”
Months later she re-joined the London bus in Poland, but when it broke down (a regular occurrence) in Russia and their visas ran out, the first Serious Road Trip was abandoned. Simone experienced vulnerable moments heading back to Romania on her own; stuck once at the border at night with an expired visa in the company of dodgy-looking black marketeers.
“You have to think on your feet,” she said. “Without mobile phones and few phone connections, you learn to rely on your wits. When you face circumstances like this and get through them, you’re emboldened.”
Encounters like these brought Simone out of her shell. By the next Serious Road Trip, she was courageous enough to instigate her own projects, and perform alongside Irish Johnnie, a professional clown. The volunteer group also had to locate a roadworthy vehicle and the all-important driver, find a guitarist, plan itineraries, get permits and find costumes.
In pre-arranged venues, they dressed up and performed twice a day, six days a week for two months, becoming adaptable and versatile. Simone clowned, twirled poi, learned to juggle and face-paint.
“Our shows brought fun and laughter into grim situations, in refugee camps or orphanages in remote areas of Romania. Children there might not have experienced life outside those four walls,” Simone reflected, “but children unable to communicate could still understand humour, laughing at Johnnie’s slapstick comedy. Their reactions egged us on. All we needed was a few words of the local language. At some orphanages the children only wanted to be held. We’d play guitar, pick them up and dance with them and they wouldn’t want to be put down. These were moments of pure love. We realised we were making a difference.”
In Bosnia, in the 90s, it was a different story. They entered in convoys on a ceasefire, though there was still danger. The children in these orphanages were traumatised by the genocide and ethnic cleansing, often carried out by neighbours. They’d lost parents, seen them killed even as they escaped. Schools had re-opened, but only for half-days. Volunteers brought in food parcels and undertook a ‘Meals in Schools’ programme in an effort to entice pupils back after years of war.
“On a later return visit,” says Simone, “the teachers told us how much the children had enjoyed the show. They’d drawn balloons and clowns instead of guns and tanks.”
On their Dobrakadabra Tour in Bosnia, they developed a new act. Simone had been introduced to puppets as a child, and the life-size boy and girl puppets revived her interest.
Simone aged 28, Croatian Coast during Bananas 4 Split tour (1994) 
Simone and puppet during Dobrakadabra tour of Bosnia
When they returned to the London aid bases, fundraising and organising for the next trip would begin. Team members slept on the floor in shared quarters.
“It was bedlam,” she reports, “but we were inspired to do what we did, so we could make a difference. Still, after five years I knew I had to find a better way forward for my own well-being.”
In New Zealand she met her soon-to-be husband and travelled with him around Europe, including serious training with puppet masters in Berlin, Bochum and Paris, before they settled for ten years in Dartmoor in the UK. Simone took on gigs as a puppeteer and wrote The Serious Road Trip, first launched in London. Now the couple are settled with their daughter in Tauranga where Simone works for the Holy Trinity Church. The puppets wait in a cupboard to re-emerge!
“What I learned was to live in the present. People are people everywhere, and love, arohanui, truly makes the world go around. God helped us on our journeys and, as a Christian, it’s appropriate to be working for Him now.”
The Serious Road Trip is available in hardback from good bookshops,
as a Kindle eBook from Amazon, or direct from the author, simone_mines@hotmail.com.
