Aleksander Nowacki finds capoeira in Praga

Praga - the most dangerous part of Warsaw, notorious for its crime levels and as a haven for drug traffickers, where kids with dull eyes and glue bags in hand roam streets lined with derelict apartment blocks and where shootings and bombings are regular features of endemic gang wars. It is a place to be avoided at all costs. That is how the "wrong" side of the river is seen by many in Warsaw.

When the Remus Theatre rented a space to work in Praga, it decided to do something to break the stereotypes. Together with Tomek Szczepański of the Street Kids Association and a Brazilian capoeira master, it has started a project that aims to build a bridge of understanding across the Wisła.

"Capoeira is a non-contact martial art-cum-dance that was born among African slaves in Brazil, out of their desire for freedom," said Dominika Rembelska, one of the first capoeira practitioners in the country. "As an expression of an oppressed culture, it is a perfect tool to give voice to those who have no voice - the children of Praga."

And the kids love it.

Standing in a circle, or roda, a varied group of people - actors, university students and graduates, young Praga teenagers and Ju, a middle-aged woman from Brazil - are singing and beating the rhythm. In the centre of the group are two youngsters performing expansive, energetic movements, fighting without touching each other, reacting to each other, carefully and with sensitivity.

"I enjoyed the respect you show in your work," said Ju, the mestre, or teacher, to her students after the session. "Respect towards the work, towards the music, towards each other. I could see it all the time."

Compare this to gaining respect on the street.

"Depends who you hang out with," said Kamil, 13. "If your mates steal, you have to be good at stealing. But basically it's fear. You get respect if you are feared."

Do they respect Ju?

"Of course," he said. "She's an older person who wants to help us. She is a long way from home so we can help her, too, so that she feels comfortable here. It's important."

So it is. The boys participating in the project are easily labelled "street kids." But they object to the stereotype.

"You're a journalist? Great, go tell the world I sniff glue," Robert said with biting sarcasm. "Tell them we are all worthless, degenerate types. That's what you want, isn't it? Your readers will love it."

Except, of course, they are not. When they want to, they can talk in the polished yet meaningless sentences we are more accustomed to hearing from a politician rather than a "problem child." But sometimes they talk of the real problems they have.

"I'm aggressive," said one of the boys. "Everything makes me angry. Capoeira is good. I learn to contain it."

They live side by side with those who have chosen drugs and violence as a way of life, and they know that in the eyes of the outside world they are guilty by association. But they are prepared to work hard to get away from this, despite their tender age. Only they need a little bit of help from grown-ups. They are getting it here from Tomek, who canvasses the blocks, searching for kids who want to make an effort, from the Remus actors who teach them basic acting, and from Ju who struggles to speak to them as much Polish as she can.

But the grown-up world is not always so friendly.

"The teachers want to work with the best pupils," said Patryk. "If you make a mistake, get in trouble with the police, you are out. They remember it and look at you in a different way. I often ask my teacher to give me some extra homework, so I can go through it with Tomek. She never bothers. She doesn't care if I get better."

Sometimes good intentions alone are not enough. After a recent article about the group, they visited a capoeira workshop, where the children from "good" families pointed fingers at them, and said: "Hey, look, they are the ones who sniff glue."

"If you did glue, you would get nowhere," Kamil retorted. "We know people who do it, but if we did, we would not be here."

The children need some help. Just a little encouragement to believe that their lives do not have to be miserable. But the authorities are not particularly interested. It takes NGOs, such as the Street Kids Association or the Remus Theatre, which receive hardly any government funding, to give them a nudge to keep on the right track. But even the group's existence is under threat as the Remus actors must pay out of their own pockets for the one-floor space in an otherwise empty building which they rent.

For more information on the work of the Remus Theatre and Street Kids Association, contact Katarzyna Kazimierczuk, Remus

Theatre Association, (tel.) 692 112 561 or Tomek Szczepański of the Street Kids Association, (tel.) 503 669 359.