Wolf Boys no freaks, just kids proud of who they are
By David Staples
Not many press releases really grab my attention, but one came in
last week
from the Mexican National Circus that I could hardly believe.
The circus is in town for
the next two weeks. It's set up its tent at the aviation museum at the
City Centre Airport, the old Muni. The show features acrobats, clowns
and dancers. It has no animals, not since the niece of circus boss
Roberto Campa was killed by a tiger. But the press release said the
show does have the Wolf Boys. Larry and Danny Ramos Gomez.
The Wolf Boys have a
condition known as hypertrichosis, said the release, and are covered
head to toe in hair. They were raised by their grandmother in a poor
Mexican village, then adopted by the circus eight years ago, when
Larry was 9 and Danny 6.
"They have traveled to many
countries in search of an answer for their condition, but as of yet no
known cause or cure has been found."
I wondered if the boys were
a freak show act, but circus promoter Roxanne Press assures me this
was never the case, that both boys were trained from the start to be
skilled performers.
Roxanne agrees to take me
out to the International Airport to meet Larry and Danny when they
arrive from El Salvador, where they've been performing solo for a
month. On the way out, she tells me she grew up in Grande Prairie, but
has been living in Mexico and working with the circus for the past
five years. She was performing as a jazz dancer in Las Vegas when she
heard that circus dancers were wanted in Mexico and decided to take a
chance and go.
What she found was a dream
world and opportunity to join in with a friendly, gutsy group of
performers and travel the world. She says she made about $10,000 last
year. "Your payment is the people's applause," she says. "Money is
just a non-issue in the circus. Money comes, it goes. There will be
more tomorrow."
As for the Wolf Boys,
Roxanne says, "I stared at them for about the first four months. You
do. You can't help it. But after that you get totally used to them. I
don't even notice it much any more. When people see the show they're
much more fascinated in the end by the fact that they're such great
circus performers."
The
boys don't have steady girlfriends, but are always surrounded by
pretty young women, Roxanne says. " I don't know what it is, whether
it's just curiosity, or if it's just that they're nice kids. They're
really loving and outgoing. They look odd to begin with, but they're
really kind of cute, just like little teddy bears."
In the show, Larry does the
music for the sound system and helps with the announcing. Both he and
Danny are trampoline acrobats. Danny also does somersaults off a
motorcycle. Six months ago, he smashed during the stunt, his shoulder
popping out of its socket. But he didn't get much sympathy. "The idiot
tried to do five somersaults and he's only allowed to do four,"
Roxanne says. "He overdid it, trying to be a hot shot."
Outside of circus life,
Danny likes to play video games and board games, while Larry is
interested in science, taking correspondence courses in astronomy.
At the airport, my first
impression of the boys is they have very, very, very, dark faces. Both
are short, wiry guys, dressed in tracksuits, with expensive looking
sneakers and dark hair that never ends. Their facial hair isn't like
the normal course hair of a beard, but looks soft and curly. They look
like miniature Chewbaccas from Star Wars. Danny has a great smile full
of white teeth.
I ride back in the van to
the city with them, Roxanne driving and translating the short answers
in Spanish that Larry gives me. Both boys are friendly enough, but
look exhausted. They've been traveling two days, from El Salvador to
Guatemala to Mexico to the United States, then to Edmonton. The only
time they perk up is when we pass a trailer home lot; Larry lives in a
motor home in Mexico. When the circus moves, he pulls Danny's trailer.

I asked Danny about the
somersault accident. "The problem was I meant to do four, but I
accidentally forgot," he says.
After a few minutes, the
boys seem like pretty normal teenagers to me. They're just trying to
have fun, to figure out the world, and to grow up and become men in
their adopted circus family.
I ask if the part in the
press release about them searching the world for a cure for their
condition is true.
"I'd never take it off,"
Larry says. "I'm very proud to be who I am."
Just what I figured.