RED NOSES Jordan «In laughter there is hope» (RED NOSES)

RED NOSES is widely known for providing psychosocial support in difficult settings, mainly in the healthcare sector, through play, humor, and clowning. In addition to having partner organizations in nine European countries, RN has two branches in the Middle East, one in Palestine and one in Jordan.

RED NOSES Jordan was officially registered in 2017 but, as administrative manager Hashem Aysami explains, RED NOSES had already been present in the country since 2014. “RN’s journey in Jordan began as part of the international Emergency Smile program. At that time, clowning interventions were carried out in Syrian and Palestinian refugee camps. At the same time, visits began at the King Hussein Cancer Center and the Médecins Sans Frontières hospital in Amman.” Today, RNJO’s projects include support in healthcare settings, humanitarian interventions, and assistance for elderly people and marginalized communities.

“Compared to some partner organizations that work mainly within hospital systems, RED NOSES Jordan has a strong commitment to community engagement and humanitarian action. Over the years, RNJO has increasingly focused on people affected by crises, especially displaced children, refugee families, and socially vulnerable communities both in camps and urban settings.” Riham Kharroub, head of RN’s Middle East branch, adds that one of the organization’s goals is to grow its humanitarian response program: “We aim to expand our work with migrant populations and people affected by crises, with greater attention to inclusion and social integration.”

Lna Dahdal, artistic director and clown performer under the name Dr. Nakasheh, says that clowning, humor, and play are like “small pockets of oxygen in heavy environments. They give people space to breathe, connect, and feel human again. A shared laugh breaks tension, makes fear manageable, and reminds us that joy is still possible. Clowning in particular helps dissolve discrimination because laughter puts everyone on the same level: when we laugh together, there is no longer an ‘us and them,’ only delightfully ridiculous human beings. For vulnerable people, playful attention is powerful. It tells them: ‘I see you, you matter, and you deserve happiness.’ In difficult contexts, humor does not ignore pain: it gently lifts it, even if only for a moment, so that people can carry it with greater strength.”

Lna recounts one of the moments when she felt she had truly made a difference: “One of the most touching memories I carry with me comes from a visit to the MSF hospital. There was a little girl, six or seven years old. She had arrived from Yemen after losing her left hand and one leg, and her body was covered in burns. When we first met her, she was quietly coloring in a book. No matter what we did, she would not look at us or react. Her father explained that she refused to speak to anyone except him. As a healthcare clown, I never force interaction, so at first I simply passed by to greet her, played a little with her father, and then left. I offered presence without pressure. Then one day, I started joking with her father, insisting that the sky was green. Suddenly, without looking up from her coloring book, the little girl softly said, ‘No.’ At the next visit, she greeted us. The one after that, she told us her name. Visit after visit, she opened up more and more, until she was waiting for us in the hallway every time, greeting us and showing us her drawings. The day she finally answered us in full sentences, her father cried. For me, it was a profound victory of the soul, a small miracle I had the privilege to witness. That memory became the force that keeps my clown alive, the reminder never to lose hope. It is why I became a clown, and why I am, and always will be, one.”