Diary of a Seattle Belly Dancer Miscellaneous Dispatches from a Sequined Life
Zaina Food Drink and Friends - 2/16/07
I am home now after dancing at Zaina. My ears are pounding, there is sweet
hookah smoke in my hair and veils, and my heart is full. Zaina is loud
and dirty. The lights are too bright. There’s no room to dance. When
I dance at Zaina, I usually dance for a young crowd that is just a little too
hip to give me their full attention. There’s always chaos. But
in spite of its downfalls, Zaina is perhaps my favorite place to dance. The
simple reason: there is love at Zaina.
The Zaina crowd is like family, or better. It takes 15 minutes just
to make my way to the dressing room because I’m stopped for so many hugs
along the way. When I leave, it takes even longer. My own friends
come to see me there. Tonight, my friend Josie brought friends to see me
dance, and the wonderful, irrepressible Indigo surprised me with a visit. But
I also have all new friends because of Zaina. The faces are familiar each
time I’m there, and it is like a homecoming when I dance. Chris,
Zack, Naser, Mohammed, Hessa, Omar, Collin…I wish I knew more names. The
loud music usually makes it impossible to have conversations and I’m terrible
with names anyway. But I know their faces and I love every single one of
them. I give them love when I dance, but I haven’t been able to give
more love than they give me. Yet. Not a bad challenge. Tonight
I wish I could put my arms around the whole place and everyone inside, gather
them to my bosom, and shed tears of love on all of them. On the other hand,
I’d hate to interrupt their party.
Amira’s Dancers Puff Their Muffins -
2/10/07
Oh my Roses! I am so proud! Tonight my dancers performed for their first time
on a real stage. The choreography is long and challenging – the full first
8 minutes of Nebtiti Minin El Hikiya – and my dancers are varying levels
from experienced beginners to intermediate. They were all ready on time, remembered
the choreography, and danced their hearts out. I’m so proud of these beautiful,
strong women. How lovely they looked in their costumes – pink, purple,
burgundy – so curvy and luscious. They all have other life priorities,
yet were able to rally so that we could finish costumes that we have been working
on since last May; and they religiously attended class to practice. We were also
kindly assisted by the sweet women of Abyssinian Dance Center. I will be forever
grateful to the Aby women for their selfless generosity.
It was a wonderful venue for them to debut in, as well. Hasani truly puts
on a classy hafla, and does so on her own dime. She asks for contributions, but
I have a hunch that Hasani doesn’t always recoup costs. What an incredible
act of generosity! We’re so lucky to have her in our Northwest belly dance
community. She’s not only kind, she’s got a great sense of humor.
My introduction for our performance included the line, “puff your muffins,
girls” (a Maleehaism) and Hasani read the line with flair, making all of
my dancers giggle. All in all, it was a great experience all the way around.
We still have much work to do, but it would be terribly boring if we didn’t.
My dancers performed wonderfully for their first time out of the box. And I can’t
believe that on top of everything else, they also gave me roses…I wish
I brought roses for them! I’m a proud, proud mother duck.
La Vita E Bella - 2/2/07
I am between sets at Marrakesh and I have snuck out to drink a glass of wine
at my favorite Italian restaurant. My makeup is heavy and I’m wearing more
glitter than could be considered fashionable. I’m also sitting alone at
the restaurant bar, which immediately makes me feel a little odd. But I am grateful
for a few quiet moments – it helps to recharge my batteries before performing
my next set for the Marrakesh crowd.
As I sit at this lovely restaurant, listening to snippets of conversation
all around me, I taste salt on my lips. Sweat. Earlier today, I talked to Katia
who is dancing at Caspian tonight. As I was just an hour earlier, Kat is probably
touching up her makeup, packing up her costume, fussing with her hair. Soon,
she will dance for a crowd that is enjoying dinner and time with friends, and
she will change their evening in ways of which they might not be fully conscious.
After that, she will pack up her costume as her heart rate returns to normal.
She too will have sweat on her upper lip.
There are at least four or five more Seattle dancers who are also going through
the same ritual tonight. Hundreds more around the country, and hundreds more
around the world. We are alone in our changing rooms or with our after dance
glasses of wine, yet we are not alone. Belly dance – the act of being a
belly dancer – unites us all, one gossamer thread woven through each of
our princess nights.
