Musings
an Online Journal of Sorts

By Alyce Wilson

After my usual morning dog walk yesterday, I got things set up and rehearsed my solo performance for the big belly dancing hafla (Middle Eastern dance party) that evening. My belly dancing class would be giving it's annual performance at the Casablanca Restaurant on City Line and Haverford.

Although I had a pretty good idea of what I wanted to do, I needed to make sure that I could do it smoothly, without thinking, as well as iron out a few little details that still bothered me.

Before I started, I took my instructor's advice and burned a CD with only my music on it. That way it prevented some problems, such as playing the wrong track or having the next song start up before someone could get to the player to stop it. I had to download software to do so, but I got something via the trustworthy site Tucows.com, and it did the job.

I had run through it a couple times and was just starting it again when the doorbell range. Since I was at the beginning of the song, I still had my veil wrapped around me (and to be honest, my belly dancing costume was pretty modest as such things go), so I answered the door. It was a guy with lawn equipment, asking me if I would like my grass mowed for $5. We'd had it mowed before by a family who charged $7, so I agreed.

Before I closed to door, he remarked, "Nice outfit."

"Thanks. I'm practicing a belly dancing routine."

"Go, girl!" he exclaimed. I smiled, then got back to my practicing.

When he rang the doorbell again to collect his payment, after finishing, he asked me if I belly dance for a living.

"No," I said. "My class is having a performance tonight." He wished me good luck.

I didn't intend to spend all morning practicing, but after I was happy with my choreography, I decided to try to get at least one perfect (or near perfect) take I could share with my family members, none of whom could attend the performance. Of course, this was an invitation for the more playful gods to pull my veil out of my hands, distract me so that I'd forget a section, or even to manage to twist my veil inextricably into my necklace. I think they were also nudging my dog, Una, so that she would grow curious, leave her happy perch on the couch and begin nuzzling my legs on the dance floor.

Finally, right before my afternoon assignment started, I got a couple takes I thought were good enough, so I changed back into my street clothes to work.

Little known fact: belly dancing costumes are not made to sit in. The tops are typically very stiff, both because they're designed to keep things in place and because they're encrusted with sequins and beads. And while woman of virtually any body type (here I almost typed "belly type," which is perhaps what I actually mean) looks good with a skirt riding low on their hips, exposing their midsection, be it firm, muscular or soft, almost none of them look good sitting down in such an ensemble. This is why you never see belly dancers sitting unless they're wearing a caftan (a very simple, floor length tunic which tends to have a stiff collar and a buttoned or V-neck front) over their costume.

The Gryphon left work early so that he could come to the restaurant with me, but he arrived later than he'd anticipated. I decided it would be quicker if I'd wear my costume to the restaurant, wearing my caftan over top until we were ready to perform.

Despite the usual rush hour traffic, we made pretty good time and arrived at the restaurant only seven minutes late. I wasn't the last student to arrive, either. I was given an index card and told to write an introduction for them to read before my performance. I wrote, "Alyce Wilson is a freelance writer who plans to finish her novel as soon she finished unpacking in her new place. She has been belly dancing for about four years. She's been writing her novel for five."

As soon as we were ready, my instructor, who dances under the name Salome, had us run through our group dance several times. We were performing a veil dance, which is always a great way to accommodate different skill levels. Simple movements with the veil look very pretty, what with all the different colors from the different costumes. The CD kept skipping in her quirky player, which is very particular about what sort of surface it's placed on. I think the floor wasn't level enough for it or something.

After we'd run through the veil dance enough times, Salome had us practice the drum solo. Anyone who wanted to perform in it was welcome. The drum solo was a dance that she had taught them last spring, during a period when my work schedule prevented me from attending class. But we continue to dance it in class on occasion, so I could fake it fairly well, provided somebody who knew it was in front of me. Plus, it's a fun song, so I joined in.

By then, I knew it was getting close to time to start. I threw on my caftan and went upstairs to grab The Gryphon so he could get a shot of me while I was still looking my best. I also suggested a group shot, but I was talked out of it by someone who suggested it would be better upstairs. Should have known better; people tend to go off pretty quickly when the event is over, and that's what happened. But fortunately, The Gryphon took a lot of photos of all the performances, so I probably still have pictures of almost everyone in my class.

Finally, it was time. First, those who wanted to performed the drum solo, which was a great way to start off the night. Then a dancer who's been performing for about two years did her first solo performance. She'd chosen a recent U2 song and did a very spirited routine to it.

I was next, since I'd told Salome I'd be willing to perform in any order at all, and the people who were performing after me needed to change into new costumes from the one they'd worn in the drum solo. As they explained to me, the drum solo was such an active dance they needed to wear simpler costumes for it.

My name was announced, my bio read, and then there was just a little pause while I waited for my music to begin. I joked later with people that they have to give you enough time to decide whether to chicken out. But I'd done this two times before, and I felt good about my dance. Not only that, but we had a very friendly audience, composed only of family members and friends of the dance class, and the dance class themselves.

The music swelled up, and I began my dance, remembering to smile throughout (one of the things I'd noticed on my tape was that I would start smiling and then begin to simply look thoughtful as I remembered what came next). The music, "Inner Flight" by musician/belly dancer Jehan, alternates between sweeping music which lent itself well to veil movements and traveling around, and sharper drum beats that worked well for stationary, isolated movements such as belly rolls, shimmying and upper body movements. The gods were merciful on me, perhaps because I had given them such fun during my morning rehearsals, and I executed the dance smoothly.

Afterwards, the applause sounded thunderous for such a small group, in part because my fellow dancers were cheering and calling out, "Go, Alyce!" For the rest of the night, I got many compliments from them. I gave them back, in turn, to my fellow soloists.

Following me was a duo of two best friends who had choreographed a routine to some traditional music. Their dance had recurring themes such as hip rolls and turns, but they spiced it up with some little surprises like a quick shoulder shimmy at a point where some fast drum beats came in. They likewise met with great applause, as did the next performer, a soloist who wore a terrific red sequined outfit and performed to a very contemporary, experimental Middle Eastern song. She actually took the risk of dancing among the tables, and she did it in such a playful way she brought smiles to everyone's face.

The entire class did the veil dance next, which I wish I could have seen but which I'd glimpsed in the mirrors downstairs. A field of colorful, floating veils, which is why we'd chosen to give ourselves the group name Salome's Flowers.

Next on the program was a very experienced belly dancer who also makes costumes, although she hadn't made the multicolored sequined number she was wearing that evening. It had a fantastic Egyptian skirt that consisted of many different panels, so that when she swirled, they all spun out like a flower blooming.

Last to perform was our inspiration, our teacher, Salome. As always, she gave a performance that was both sensual and playful. She tends to dance to music she knows and then lets the music tell her what to do, so that her performances are organic and unique. I'm continually impressed by her inventiveness and her ability to blend movements effortlessly into each other, all the time playing to the crowd, making each spectator feel like she's dancing for them.

A friend of mine, The Artist, once told me that it's impossible to watch her and not smile. I agree.

When she'd completed her performance, she invited all the dancers to join her on the floor for an impromptu dance to some faster traditional music, and while we did, she distributed pink roses to all of us.

Breathless and smiling, we then greeted family members, changed downstairs into more comfortable clothing, and enjoyed a delicious buffet of Moroccan food. The Gryphon showed me the photos he'd taken, which were the best I'd seen of me belly dancing and also of my classmates. Before we left, I promised to e-mail one of my fellow students a link to the online album when I get them uploaded.

I was so pleased with how everything went that this morning when I awoke an hour before the alarm, I had trouble getting back to sleep, reviewing the night again and again in my head. This, of course, awoke my dog, who didn't know why I was smiling, but enjoyed having her head patted just the same.

Alyce's previous solo belly dancing performance:

June 13, 2003 - I Am the Dance

Copyright 2005 by Alyce Wilson

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