Musings
an Online Journal of Sorts

By Alyce Wilson

The hours of practice were worth it if only for the fact that my belly dancing performance inspired people to take their clothes off.

I'll explain.

Last night was my second solo belly dancing performance. My class was performing at a Hafla, a Middle Eastern feast and dance party. I was also doing a solo.

We had all rehearsed a simple scarf dance, which started out the evening.

This time I was elated that a friend of mine attended the performance: Stevie G., who has also ushered me into the world of standup. He was the only friend who didn't have scheduling problems, could swing the money and wasn't afraid of an evening of belly dancing. I gave him my camera to take pictures during the performance.

The group performance went pretty well, considering that people got confused as they were filing out onto the floor and I momentarily blanked on which side I was supposed to stand. But I continued to dance anyway, and the dance floor was such a tight space that I doubt anyone noticed there were five dancers on one side and seven on the other.

We were supposed to have six solo performances, but the dancer who was going to do a traditional Indian dance didn't show, and the two dancers who were going to perform together said they'd had trouble choosing music.

This meant that instead of being fifth, I was third. This was fine with me. I stood in the back and watched the other dancers, both from the beginning class. The first one had taken ballroom dancing before. Her energy was incredible, and even though she combined a lot of nontraditional moves with her performance, it added up to a cohesive, fun performance.

The second dancer was clearly less experienced, but you had to admire her for being willing to get up there and perform. She had picked a fairly monotonous drum solo, and she cycled through the same movements again and again. Still, she received great applause when she was done.

Then it was my turn. I had picked a song, "Sacred Waters" by belly dancer/musician Jehan. The song is languid, with water effects, heartbeat and wind. The lyrics are what I particularly liked, with words like "I am the dancer; I am the dance."

I matched the slow music of the beginning with a veil dance, moving my arms in slow arcs in front of me and then snaking them out to the side. I ran forward and flipped the veil over my head, momentarily getting caught on a low-hanging lamp before recovering. Then I backed up, did some hip rolls behind the veil and some other mysterious movements before spinning in a circle, rotating the veil around me.

I knew the first section looked great; it was the first thing I'd managed to work out. What had me stuck for the last couple days was what to do after I dropped the veil behind me. Then I realized that the heartbeat sound gets louder there, so I began some chest rises to the heartbeat. I heard later that this was one of people's favorite portions.

As the music got a little faster, I started hip raises and hip drops, gradually increasing speed to a shimmy. I got on tiptoes and moved gracefully forward, while shimmying. I knew from having watched the video that this made the coins on my costume vibrate giddily.

I retreated again and, as the music slowed, began doing slow hip rolls, accentuating my movement with my arms. This is when the stripping started.

I heard a commotion off to my left and people laughing. At first, I wondered if they were laughing at me, but that didn't seem likely. Then I realized that a 3-year-old boy had pulled his shirt over his head and thrown it triumphantly on a nearby table. This only made me smile even broader as I finished up with some slow undulations.

Overall, I was thrilled with my performance, not to mention the visceral response I received from at least one of the males. My friend congratulated me, as did my classmates. And after two more solos (including my instructor, whose performance was exquisite), everyone got up to dance to a couple songs, doing whatever we felt like doing, celebrating the moment. Children joined in, along with some of the guests, and I knew it was true: I am the dancer, I am the dance.

Another belly dancing performance by Alyce:

June 10, 2005 - Salome's Flowers

Copyright 2003 by Alyce Wilson

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