Belly Dancers in Egypt Worry About Possible Islamist Takeover

Prohibiting Women’s Dancing Ends a Once-Sacred Art

By: Kamel Saleh posted on Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Translator: Naria Tanoukhi

Fears of an Islamist takeover in Egypt are not only limited to the secularists, leftists and moderates. They have now extended to a large segment of intellectuals and artists, notably dancers.

Katya, a belly dancer, performs at an oriental dance festival in Cairo June 27, 2006. (photo by REUTERS/Tara Todras-Whitehill )

There are clear indications that some are terrified at the prospect of a rise of Islamist fundamentalists to power. One Egyptian dancer called Sophia expresses her concerns, saying it would not only affect her, but the tradition of belly-dancing as a whole.

Another dancer named Sama al-Masri discusses the issue more equivocally. She defends the Muslim Brotherhood, claiming that the Brotherhood will support her art career. She says she “knows a group of Salafists and Brothers personally, and they treat her with utmost kindness, tenderness and humanitarian compassion without displaying any worldly desires,” as she put it.

The contradictory positions of Sofia and Sama are reflective of the concerns of large segments of Egyptians. Some have grown worried as the Islamists and Salafists have made their positions increasingly clear through a number of actions, including the prosecution of actor Adel Imam for some of his movies. Some of them have also demanded that dance and kissing scenes be cut out of all Egyptian films.

This has resulted in some ambiguity surrounding the future of arts in Egypt should the Muslim Brotherhood take the presidency. One observer raises the question: “How can a revolution be on the right track if women are prevented from dancing?”

Some link dancing to the concept of ​Eve’s ​seduction of Adam in paradise. Others liken it to the old game of snake charming, where a magician plays the flute and a snake emerges out of his basket, swaying. Others refer to the original snake, which sowed the seed of disobedience against the divine directive forbidding the picking of fruit from the tree of life.

Dance — which, according to mythology and cultural heritage, has played a dynamic role in  human societies — took on divine characteristics through its exercise in rituals at temples and holy places to please the gods. However, in our present era, dance has become an art in and of itself, with diverse schools and special garments. Let us not forget the dancer that seduced Enkidu in the myth of Gilgamesh, and the high price paid by John the Baptist after Salome asked Herod, King of the Jews, to behead him after having danced for him. Here in particular, it cannot be said that “a dancer has never won over a Prophet.”

Thus, along this path, dance gradually moved from being a sacred ritual to a human ritual. It is to a large extent similar to what happened to the art of poetry, which broke away from the literature of priests and the sacred texts to take a separate, human path.

Is it possible to separate the tenets of utilitarian philosophy — which dictates that humans are constantly seeking pleasure and the avoidance of  pain — from that  pleasure brought about by dance? The female body must sway to a rhythm, which leads to pleasure — including the pleasures of sight, hearing, smell and, sometimes, touch.

The Islamists have no right to ban the arts produced by humanity. They also have no right to empty religion from worldly aesthetics. Like other arts, there are both sublime and lowly forms of dance. It is the same with religions, which, throughout history, have entailed interpretations, readings and behaviors that were sublime and served higher purposes, while at other times serving as justification for lowliness, bawdiness and murders for despicable purposes.

Therefore, it is no exaggeration to say that dance is an original human act. It is a legacy of the civilizations that have accompanied man in all times and places, especially in Egypt, whose forefathers, the Pharaohs, were as keen to draw dancers on the walls of temples as the gods and kings.

Source: Al-Monitor
Original article in Arabic: As-Safir (Lebanon)

Adina Gamal Shimmies Her Way Out of Belly Dancer Stereotypes

June 27, 2012
By Bonnie Caprara

Belly dancing. Cabaret dancing. Burlesque dancing. They all evoke visions slim, seductive and exotic women whose movements glide through a room, stirring the visions and souls of wanting men in a seductive, teasing way.

They’re the fantasies of many women, too. Housewives. Students. Even teachers like Jeanine Wilson.
They’re fantasies of the women they want to be.

“When I went through my second divorce, I was looking for things to do to make myself happy,” Wilson says.

However, Wilson put off her exploration into belly dancing for a month “I thought I’d be the only African-American and the only big girl in the class,” Wilson says. “But I’m not a quitter. I believe in seeing things through. After my first time, I thought, ‘Wow! I did this. I did this as well as anyone else.’”

Not only did Wilson see things through, but as her alter ego, Adina Gamal, she and business partner, Zaniah Amairah are tantalizing audiences as teachers and performers of Detroit Shimmy.

After several years of learning, Wilson brings a philosophy to primarily belly dancing that speaks to non-Middle Eastern women or women with perfectly proportional bodies.

“I am constantly trying to help the girls because I know what they’re going through,” Wilson says. “You strive to be the best dancer that you can be with belly dancing. You are too beautiful no matter what size you are.”

Since taking up belly dancing, Wilson has dropped from 280 pounds to 226 pounds in a regimen that also includes dieting and water aerobics. And since she and Amairah have taught and encouraged women of every size, shape and color to embrace, accept and express themselves through belly dancing and other forms of dance, what had once been a hobby is now a busy performance schedule, which has included performances at Ferndale Pride and River Days.

As for breaking down the myths that professional belly dancing is only for slim Middle Eastern women, Wilson says, “The people in the Middle Eastern community really love me because I can really dance … I’m not doing it to get anyone hot and bothered, I’m doing it for me.”

Source: The Urbane Life

Egypt: Owner of belly dancing TV station arrested

Published: May. 17, 2012 3:27 PM ET
By SARAH EL DEEB, Associated Press

CAIRO (AP) — Egypt's vice police on Thursday arrested the owner of a belly dancing TV station on suspicion of operating without a license, inciting licentiousness and facilitating prostitution, a security official said.

The station, ElTet, broadcasts videos 24 hours a day of scantily clad belly dancers giving sultry performances to live in-studio music. Available on satellite TV for more than a year, the station has gained a dedicated following, in part because it shows a quintessentially Egyptian art form that has grown increasingly inaccessible for many people in the country, having been largely relegated to expensive clubs and hotels as the country has grown more conservative in recent few decades.

Still, mothers and grandmothers traditionally teach young girls belly dancing at home, particularly by watching old black-and-white movies that made earlier generations of belly dancers household names in Egypt.

Early Thursday, Egyptian vice police raided an apartment in central Cairo where the station's owner, Baligh Hamdy, had been running the operations and recording most of the videos, the security official said. Police confiscated tapes and video equipment and arrested Hamdy.

The official said Hamdy would record the videos and send them over the Internet to his partners in Bahrain and Jordan, who would in turn broadcast them on the station's satellite TV, making it accessible in Egypt and elsewhere.

The raid was prompted by complaints from viewers, the official said on condition of anonymity because he was not authorized to brief the media.

Besides the belly dancing, the station also carries advertisements for sexual enhancement products and matchmaking messages.

Hamdy is accused of airing ads that offend public decency, the official said.

While Egypt has grown increasingly conservative over the years, many rights groups fear an Islamist political class growing in influence may push for more censorship and use laws that vaguely define offending public decency to clamp down on the arts and freedom of expression.

Source: Associated Press

Boycotting Israel, one shimmy at a time

By Ahmed Maged
First Published: February 12, 2007

CAIRO: At a time when Israel’s efforts to normalize cultural relations with Egypt continue to be stymied, the last thing anyone could have imagined was voices of protest coming from the belly.

Quite literally.

Egyptian belly dancers recently unanimously refused to participate in a festival for oriental dancing that was organized last week in the Israeli coastal city of Eilat.

Akhr Saa, one of the oldest and most widely-circulated of Egyptian weeklies, has highlighted the issue, saying that after Israel was turned away at the Cairo International Film Festival and the Alexandria Film Festival , Israeli cultural envoys had been desperately trying to woo Egypt’s dancers.

When Israeli cultural authorities honored late veteran belly dancers like Tahia Karioka, Samia Gamal and Naima Akef by giving their names to different halls in a hotel in Eilat during the dance fest, they had hoped Egypt’s dancers would be swayed.

The majority of the 3000-strong participants were Israeli, who had shown up side by side with another 130 from Greece, US, Russia, France, Japan and Costa Rica, said the weekly, stressing that despite the fact the festival was entirely devoted to oriental dancing, not one Arab belly dancer was present on the scene.

The weekly inquired if those deceased belly-dancers would welcome such a move had they been alive. But today’s artistes refused the festival’s invitations despite the offers and lures.

Talking to many bell-dancers about the issue, the weekly quoted famous belly-dancer Lucy as saying that the festival’s management had left her a message on her answering-machine saying: “why do you take such a hostile attitude and turn down our invitation?”

Lucy added that one time she had turned down an offer of $10,000 per hour against taking part in one such festival.

Dina, who remains one of the biggest figures in the field and the most well-known for attending belly dancing festivals worldwide, told Akhr Saa that she was invited to inaugurate the festival and train six Israeli girls in return for a large amount of money but she refused, saying: “let them dream on.”

Retired belly dancer Nagwa Fouad said that to accept the invitation was next to impossible because her mother is Palestinian.

Fifi Abdou said that she had been receiving offers since late president Anwar Sadat’s presidency but had never even thought about it.

“It’s a general stance taken against Israeli policies which are aimed at massacring women and children,” said Fifi.

Source: Daily News Egypt

Belly dancing: a dying art?

First published: Jul 23rd, 2009

Traditionalists in Egypt have targeted cabarets that feature belly dancers, and many Egyptians fear that the art is dying.


Acarabee Alley, just off 26 of July Street in bustling downtown Cairo, opens onto a small courtyard surrounded by bars. Up the stairs at the end of the courtyard a belly dancer shakes her hips and smiles at the mostly empty tables in Club Miami. She turns and sways in her bright yellow costume in front of a five-piece band belting out Arabic songs.

At 11 pm on Thursday night the place is quiet, with the exception of a few middle-aged men sipping beer at a table near the bar. While belly dancing has become popular abroad, and for foreign visitors to Egypt, many here have feared its demise as a result of the increasing observance of conservative Islam.

Over the last several decades, traditionalist ideals have been gaining ground in the country once known for its cosmopolitan ways. In the 1990s, when violent Islamist groups were most active in Egypt, the haram (forbidden) combination of alcohol and shaking, skimpily dressed women made belly-dancing cabarets a target.

Nabil Abdel Fattah, head of the sociological research unit at Al-Ahram Center for Political and Strategic Studies and editor-in-chief of the center’s “State of Religion Report,” says businesses like bars and belly-dancing clubs have suffered because of the Islamization of both the public and private spheres in Egypt. “Belly dancing is outside of Islamic values,” says Fattah, adding that increasing conservatism in Egypt has led to reforms in the role and dress of women and fewer customers for establishments that serve alcohol.

However, in the last few years the country has undergone a soft revolution, where a surge in conservatism for many has coincided with an increasing movement toward Western lifestyles and liberal practices for others.

“There is a new soft revolution in Egyptian society. You can see this trend of new magazines and shops and people returning to belly dancing. There is also a Westernization of the way of life, of the new upper-middle class and businessmen,” says Fattah, who maintains this has happened in tandem with increasing observance of conservative Islam.

Looking back

Belly dancing is the English name given to the art of raqssharqi (oriental dance) or raqsbaladi (country dance). The practice spread throughout the Middle East but took a greater hold in Egypt than the rest of the Arab world, finding its place in wedding celebrations, private and public performances and, most recently, in tourist establishments.

Around midnight, customers begin to take seats near the stage at Club Miami. The clientele remains the same, mostly middle-aged Egyptian men. The band continues to play as the second dancer, Suhayla, takes the stage under a small disco ball. Tamer, Club Miami’s manager, who asked that his real name not be used, says in the winter the club attracts foreigners and in the summer it fills with Gulf Arabs. But most of their clientele is Egyptian.

“We get the rich and the less fortunate,” says Tamer. “Thursday is the busiest day of the week. We start the night at 11pm, but it doesn’t get full before 12 or 1am.” He’s been working in the industry for 10 years and says he’s seen a decline in the number of visitors in the last decade. Despite the influx from Gulf tourists, places like Club Miami are not seeing an increase in customers.

“There are new bars for the middle class everywhere, in Mohandeseen, in the city center and also in hotels,” says Fattah. “This is a new variable and I think it’s related to the economic policy of the state. There is a tolerance now … because [these are] private companies and this is very important economically.”

The next evening, a few kilometers south on 26 of July Street, Ahmed Dessouki leans against a polished wood bar sipping whisky over ice at the Cairo Jazz Club. The 28-year-old architect says he goes out four nights per week, but doesn’t venture to belly-dancing joints or baladi-style bars. “I mostly go to Zamalek bars,” says Dessouki referring to Cairo’s expensive, more Western neighborhood. “I’m not interested in this kind of art.”

The Cairo Jazz Club could easily be in any major American city, with a DJ spinning records in the corner, high-back booth seating and multi-colored track lighting. By midnight there is little room to move as young Egyptian men hold the waists of their girlfriends and mix with foreigners on the tiny dance floor.

“It’s the mentality of the people. We don’t have a big gap between the mentality of Europe and the [United] States,” says Dessouki.

“Almost everybody has a girlfriend. We like to come to this kind of club to spend a nice night with our girlfriends - nothing more.” Dessouki says some nights he and his friends rack up bills of several thousand Egyptian pounds (or several hundred US dollars).

In the 1990s, Western-style bars became popular among some Egyptians and today, in Cairo, Alexandria and in tourist towns like Sharm El-Sheikh, there is no shortage of European - or American-style establishments. The influx of Western-style nightclubs is drawing customers away from the baladi nightspots.

A soft revolution here won’t necessarily restore belly-dancing cabarets to their former glory if young, affluent Egyptians prefer to drop a 200 Egyptian pound minimum charge ($35) to dance to house beats, R ‘n’ B and top-40 music, rather than watch jeweled women shake their hips in an age-old tradition.

“We’ve been affected by last year’s economic slump. Some of our best customers come once a week now instead of every day,” Tamer says. While he notes most of his customers are Egyptian, Suhayla, who has been performing as a belly dancer for years, argues this isn’t the case in other establishments. “It depends. You get Egyptians, foreigners and Arabs,” Suhayla says. “You can find more foreigners in El-Haram.”

Tourists have long filled the seats of higher-end belly-dancing establishments. In tourist cities like Sharm El-Sheikh, dancers perform to almost entirely foreign crowds.

The Egyptian Ministry of Tourism said in June that hotel occupancy rates had dropped to between 66 and 70 percent and some analysts have predicted that the global financial crisis, combined with the recent bombing in Cairo’s Khan El-Khalili market, could result in occupancy rates falling further, even to 50 percent.

The opening of Egyptian society may not be enough to salvage an art form that has had a place in Egyptian society for centuries.

“Most of the people I know who are interested in belly dancing are foreigners and they just go once,” says Dessouki over thumping electronic beats. “Most of my friends are interested in this kind of music - house and trance.”

First seen in Trends magazine.

Source: KippReport

The belly-dancer at the wedding

In Egypt the unusual love--hate relationship with belly-dancing persists amid a conservative culture of veiled women and virgin weddings.

by Yahia Samir Lababidi

At a time when more and more Egyptian women are taking the veil, Cairo remains the world epicentre for those who wish to master a dance that is only a slight variation on the theme of Salome's shedding of her veils. And when, seaside, the bulk of Egyptian women are opting to wade in gallabiyyas (full length traditional dresses), it is not unusual for a belly-dancer to perform at a public venue in little more than a glorified bikini, like a beached mermaid in her glittering, gauzy garb.

The ubiquity and sheer joy of the dance, however, does not detract from the perception of immorality associated with the belly-dancing profession. Egyptians are deeply conflicted about the respectability of the art form. Islamic preachers have gone so far as to proclaim that belly-dancers cannot take part in religious rites, such as feeding the poor during Ramadan or performing the Hajj/Pilgrimage.

An incident illustrating the paradoxically privileged position belly-dancers occupy in society occurred last year. A video depicting one of Egypt's top belly-dancers in flagrante delicto leaked onto the street and internet, following a police raid on the villa of a well-known (and married) Egyptian businessman. A lesser mortal would have perished beneath the heat of such a scandal, especially a woman in a conservative society. Yet, following a teary public apology and a short leave of absence, the Uberdancer bounced back on stage. Moreover, to add legislation to lore--further demonstrating society's strangely protective stance regarding the dancer's status--a new law forbids foreign dancers from practising this local art altogether (a lucrative trade in the city's many nightspots).

A love/hate relationship for the belly-dancer places her in a perceived moral netherworld somewhere between actors and whores. Both actors and dancers, whose testimony was once inadmissible in court, are accorded the same morbid fascination--every twist and turn of their private lives deemed newsworthy--as well as the same contempt. Hishik bishik, slang for all things associated with belly-dancing (and short-hand for tsk-tsk), is actually onomatopoeia: the sound of the shaking belly-dancer, beads and all. It is also used figuratively, as a derogatory term for the shaking of values or the loosening of the moral fabric associated with a dancer's questionable position in the public imagination. What does this say about the people who heartily embrace the dance as a form of self-expression?

The origins of Raqs Sharqi or Oriental Dancing (Egyptians do not call it belly-dancing) are ambiguous. Whether or not it was born in Ancient Egypt, it is widely held that the dance has its roots in fertility ceremonies, meant to strengthen abdominal muscles and ease childbirth. It is as though tapped into the bottomless fund of Earth's energy, its pulsations course through the dancer. The dance itself is a kind of break-dance only more fluid, exhibiting a variety of muscle isolation techniques: rolling the belly, swivelling the hips or making the upper and lower body appear as though they lead independent lives. In many ways, belly-dancing is the anti-ballet. Whereas the ballerina wears her pretty steel-tipped slippers, the belly-dancer is sensuously barefoot. While the ballerina strives for the ethereal and seeks to resist gravity, the belly-dancer is earthy with her feet firmly planted on the ground.

That is the technique, but then there is the inspiration, the wordless ecstasy communicated, the body eloquence. President Anwar Sadat once described a celebrated Egyptian dancer of the '70s, Souhair Zaki, as 'the Oum Kalthoum of dance'. 'As she sings with her voice, you sing with your body,' he said to her. Speaking of the same dancer, Geraldine Brooks put it slightly differently in her book, Nine Parts of Desire: What she did with her body was what a woman's body did--the natural movements of sex and childbirth. The dance drew the eye to the very centre of the female body's womanliness.

The fact that weddings are hardly complete without a belly-dancer is revealing, given the function of marriage as sanctifying the union between a man and a woman who is expected to be a virgin. Costing the family of the bride or groom up to $3000 for a 45-minute performance and widely considered the highlight of the matrimonial event, the belly-dancer's entrance is anticipated with baited breath. And what an entrance it is. Some time past the witching hour, often draped in a sort of a sparkling cape, she shimmies into the room with a manic enthusiasm, heralded and accompanied by the wild beating of drums. Having established her presence and revelling in the power of an intensity inhabited, the dancer sheds her mock modesty veil to reveal herself--a half-naked, shimmering apparition. All anima and daemonic, she then proceeds to stomp on the hallowed ground of the wedding ceremony.

This primeval emotional maelstrom is presented to the enthralled audience and the blushing bride in particular. Women study her intently but with a more guarded enthusiasm than their drooling male counterparts. Having transfixed the audience in a sort of reverse mesmerism--where the snake charms those who have summoned it--the dancer turns her attention to the bride. Weaving and dipping in her vicinity, she initiates the bride into the rites of uninhibited womanhood. 'See the effect I have on the room (and your groom),' she insinuates, brandishing her sexuality. 'That power is yours, too. Your birthright. Celebrate it.' And she's off, back with the crowd; challenging them to take guilt-free pleasure in their bodies, snaking between them, dancing with a deliciously self-absorbed exhibitionism.

Wearing a wedding cake of a gown, the bride must fret: how can I possibly compete with this woman invulnerable to taboo? Having spent a lifetime shrewdly protecting her virtue and a small fortune on the appearance of her dress, she is being upstaged at her own wedding by a woman who seems to care for neither. How can she possibly stand up to this dancer--radiating sex and naked confidence--with her flamboyantly flagrant disregard for the fundamental commandments of Family and Society?

In such a charged atmosphere, belly-dancing serves as a kind of 'licensed murder'. This is Bertrand Russell's definition of war, only the war declared here is on conventional morality and its mind-forged manacles. The force of the belly-dance is a force of nature, perceived as unharnessed and disruptive, hence the fear. The fear is an ancient one: of desire; of female flesh. The belly-dancer's twisting sisters are many and ruinous in mythology and the human imagination: Eve and the Serpent; Medusa (Woman and Serpent fused); Salome (powerful desire); Kali (fierce transcendence); the Sirens (femme fatale); the striptease (look don't touch); and the lap dancer (crude sensuality). All hint at a vision of woman engaged in a frenzied dance of Life and Death, of passion careering out of control, threatening to overwhelm and consume.

It is not without significance that a 1920s law forbade the belly-dancer from showing her navel. Later, in the 1950s, belly-dancing was prohibited in Egypt altogether. The ban was repealed following a public outcry, on the condition that the belly button be covered. Why the belly button? Given it is not a sexual organ, one suspects the significance is symbolic. The belly button is, after all, where the umbilical cord was severed. Is it the scene of the original crime from which people wish to avert their gaze?

'Every vagina has secret teeth, for the male exits as less than when he entered,' says Camille Paglia. Teeth that are razor sharp in a patriarchal society. Vagina dentata, in turn, denotes a fear of devouring origins, as does the offensive belly button. This, it appears, is what lurks at the heart of the ancient anxiety over female sensuality. Hence, trafficking as the belly-dancer does in the heady cocktail of dance and womanhood, creation and destruction, the object of desire becomes a repository of fear and loathing. To accept their spontaneous joy in dance without the attendant sense of sin, perhaps Egyptians might learn a thing or two from Nietzsche's declaration: 'I could only believe in a god who dances'.

Yahia Samir Lababidi, aphorist and poet, currently works as editor for UNESCO Cairo Office.

Source: The Free Library

New Labor Moves: Belly Dancing Hits Delivery Room

Connection to Childbirth May Have Ancient Origins; A Shimmy and a Roll
BY RACHEL ZIMMERMAN

Helping Jennifer Wright through labor in the delivery room of a Columbia, Mo., birthing center in February were her doctor, her husband -- and her belly-dance instructor.

With the teacher, DeeDee Farris-Folkerts, by her side reminding her of the moves, Ms. Wright stood holding her husband while doing the hip circles and pelvic rotations characteristic of the ancient Arabian dance. She had readied a compact disc with classic Egyptian music, but didn't have a chance to play it before her daughter, Aubrey, emerged.

"I danced my way through labor," says the mother of three, who had been given painkillers and labor-inducing medication during her oldest child's birth and wanted a natural alternative. Her husband, Joe Walls, says he learned that belly dancing ‘is more than just entertainment. It has a much higher purpose.’

These days, alternative techniques to ease labor run the gamut from hypnotherapy to "water births" in a large bathtub. But some women disillusioned with routine use of drugs and medical interventions during labor are turning to an unusual solution -- belly dancing. They're restoring the titillating dance of seduction -- frequent entertainment fare in night clubs and Middle Eastern restaurants -- to what they say were its origins in childbirth, while enhancing maternity wards with swirling motions and mesmerising music.

Expectant mothers can choose from an increasing array of prenatal belly-dancing classes and educational materials. The first instructional prenatal belly dance DVD in the U.S. was released 16 months ago, with a pregnant dancer named Naia leading the class.

"Most of the women who come to me have given birth before and they want something different," says Ms. Farris-Folkerts, who typically has three to eight pregnant students in her belly-dance courses.

The belly dance arrived in the U.S. in the 1890s, according to bellydance lore, when impresario Sol Bloom brought an "Algerian" village to the Chicago World's fair and introduced the dancer Little Egypt, who cavorted to improvised snake-charmer music. Incorporating elements of striptease and so-called "hootchie-cootchie" dancing, the belly dance gained its come-hither reputation.

British anthropologist Sheila Kitzinger, author of numerous books on pregnancy, says belly dancing originated as a ritual of childbirth as well as seduction. Among Bedouin Arabs, she says, girls are taught a pelvic dance during puberty to celebrate their budding sexuality and prepare for the physical marathon of childbirth.

Some belly dance moves mirror those of labor. The idea is that the pelvic gyrations help disperse the pain of contractions, orient the fetus and propel the baby into the world. In early labor, when contractions are relatively mild, the expectant mother may find comfort in dancing slowly and hypnotically, using hip circles, crescents and figure eights. As labor gets more intense, the movements may progress to a rapid rocking of the pelvis from side to side – a technique known a the shimmy – to help position the baby correctly and relax the pelvic floor. In the final phase of pushing, a full body undulation known as the camel roll can help the baby move into the birth canal.”

A New York dancer who calls herself Morocco popularised the link between dancing and childbirth in the late 1960s with a firsthand account of a birth and dance ritual near Casablanca. Two decades later, a troupe called the Goddess Dancing was formed in greater Boston to celebrate the roots of belly dancing and teach classes to pregnant women and others.

NB: This article may be incomplete as it is now archived.

Source: Wall Street Journal

Not Your Mom's Lamaze Class

By Elisabeth Salemme / Brookfield Thursday, Aug. 23, 2007

Stefanie Masters , front row, far left teaches a pre-natal belly dancing class to women at the Maternity Mall in Brookfield, WI. Keri Pickett / WPN for TIME

The latest twist in childbirth prep involves jangling sequins and hip-shaking Middle Eastern music. As the growing popularity of belly dancing ripples across the U.S.--helping many a gymgoer wiggle off unwanted pounds--the ancient art form is also being practiced by moms-to-be to stay fit and ease their way through labor. From Georgia to California, dance instructors have started tailoring classes to help pregnant women with their flexibility, strength and breathing. "As soon as we feel pain, we tense up and hold our breath," says Stefanie Masters, who teaches two free classes a week in a maternity store in Brookfield, Wis. "Dancing helps build focusing skills, so as soon as that pain happens, we can breathe through it."

In addition, belly dancing's pelvic gyrations strengthen the muscles that are most important for labor and help position the baby for delivery. A colorful--and often scarf-intensive--offshoot of the epidural-free childbirth movement, undulating workouts have been a hot topic on maternity blogs since last year's DVD release of Prenatal Bellydance, which remains among the top-selling fitness and yoga DVDs on Amazon.com

But is it safe? Yes, says Dr. Sue Kelly Sayegh, associate professor of maternal-fetal medicine at Eastern Virginia Medical School in Norfolk. Low-impact exercise is recommended five to seven days a week during pregnancy. Although Sayegh warns against overexertion as well as fast-paced footwork that could lead to a fall, she says: "The art of breathing while doing other things is an excellent preparation for labor."

Indeed, last month one of Masters' students went into labor during class and gave birth the following morning without any pain medication. Says Masters: "She danced throughout her delivery."

Of course, there are plenty of skeptics, including the mothers of many pregnant belly dancers. "It seems silly to her," Amy Payne, 28, a nurse from Brookfield, says of her mother, who, according to Payne, once believed in only "bed rest and weight gain" during pregnancy. Payne was overweight when she conceived five months ago and says she lost 10 lbs. after she started taking Masters' classes in June. Fellow nurse Kelly Kuglitsch, 29, of Muskego, Wis., who is eight months pregnant, says belly dancing has made her backaches disappear. Another perk: "It makes me feel sexy," she says. "I go home and show my husband my new moves. He thinks it's really cute." Then again, no smart husband would dare say otherwise.

Source: Time.com

Sikidim, sikidim

By Tanya Goudsouzian
Published in Al-Ahram Weekly
6 - 12 July 2000, Issue No. 489

It was as though one had been propelled centuries back in time, to the tent of a wealthy tribal patriarch who was giving one of his many daughters in marriage to a worthy young camel herder. Ebullient young girls in shimmering, beaded bustiers jiggled and whirled about in their diaphanous skirts before a spellbound audience. On the evening of 27 June, however, there were no camels in sight. The audience comprised mostly veiled matriarchal characters and subdued middle-aged men, as well as a sprinkling of foreigners eager to sample "authentic Arab culture."

The Ramses Hilton was the chosen locale for the costume show that was part of the week-long festival of Oriental dance organised by well-known dance instructor Madame Raga'i. The elaborate -- and eminently seductive -- ensembles on display were the handiwork of Amira El-Qattan, a tall, graceful woman with bright orange hair, who stole the show in her skin-tight black gown the moment she strutted into the hall. The evening stretched on for some seven hours, but what kept the audience locked in place were rumours that the organising committee held some tantalising surprises in store.

The spectacle began at 8.00pm with the celebrated Reda Folkloric Dance Troupe members performing a zaffa, the traditional wedding procession consisting of song and dance. Then the lights were dimmed and large screens placed at both extremities of the room presented a brief historical of Oriental dance. Revered figures such as Tahia Carioca, Samia Gamal and Soheir Zaki reappeared in the prime of their youth on celluloid to show what the art was all about: communication and improvisation. Today, many people take the dance at face value, and equate it with the ever-popular American strip show. To put it bluntly, it must be understood that it is not about selling oneself, but about grace, agility and an ear for the subtlest titillation of music. Of course, time passes, music changes and so does the dance. This was a point emphasised by Soheir Zaki, famous in the 1970s and 1980s, who was in attendance and spoke to Al-Ahram Weekly.

From top: Samia Gamal; Tahia Carioca and Farid El-Atrash; Dina; Foufa in London in 1970; Lucy and Soheir Zaki: a demanding jury; comparing styles; Natasha Atlas, the songbird who took Europe by storm (photos: Sherif Sonbol and Al-Ahram's archives)

"A dancer has an ability to make both quick and slow movements. Back then, the music allowed for the dancer to show all her abilities," said Zaki. "Today the music is too fast."

As the screening came to an end, the DJ began spinning some popular Middle Eastern beats and in bounced the jaunty models garbed in gaily-coloured frocks. El-Qattan's collections were modelled by young women who had travelled from the four corners of the globe, including Australia, Japan and Italy, to partake in the series of workshops to be given by the country's most masterful dancers during the week-long festival. It might sound like a scene straight from an illustrated copy of the Arabian Nights, but it looked more like Mardi Gras with some of the ladies boasting cascades of gold locks, tattoos and a few excess kilos.

Just about the time they made their appearance, I made my disappearance -- under a swarm of photographers who, like moles, scurried out from their dark corners towards the light, nearly blocking my view. What I could discern, however, was that the collection was divided into themes, some inspired by legendary women such as Sheherazade and the Queen of Sheba. The Sheherazade costumes had a mystical quality, with halo-like shades that left a hazy trail behind them and coupes fantaisistes ; the Queen of Sheba line could best be described as regal, ornate with jewels, ruched shoulder bands and rich colours. El-Qattan also brought in some modern looks, such as tie-dye and floral Carmen-like prints.

The girls left the stage and a hush spread throughout the hall. The first surprise was to be revealed. The backstage door cracked open and a slight figure in a diaphanous black outfit with gold trimmings stepped out. She was none other than the toast of Paris, Natacha Atlas. There was no mistaking those features: a tanned complexion, slanted eyes elongated with black kohl and a mesmerising gaze. When she began to sing, she uttered French lyrics but her enchanting voice followed an unmistakably Oriental melody. Atlas recently relocated to Egypt to find her roots. Born in Belgium to an English mother and a (technically) Egyptian father, the songbird has taken Europe by storm with a style than can only be compared to that of the late great ballad singer Dalida. In my opinion, the audience did not do her justice in their applause. Perhaps the proportions of her reputation have not yet reached the country, or perhaps an audience more likely to worship Umm Kulthoum can never really appreciate the likes of Atlas.

After her performance, the jiggling young ladies returned once more, wearing another series of El-Qattan concoctions. At this stage, the audience was visibly exhausted from watching amateurs imitate Oriental dance. Lucy's performance came just in time. Lucy had made her initial entrance as a guest alongside Soheir Zaki, amid flashing bulbs. But somewhere along the line, she discretely retreated backstage where she traded her slinky backless black gown for a chi-chi Oriental deux-pièces.

Lucy's style can be dubbed the Perrier of belly-dance. She is an acquired taste. She makes no effort to captivate the audience with eye contact or coquettish gestures. She simply gyrates to the beat -- but such a precise gyration. Through the grape-vine, I learned that Fifi Abdu, the reigning queen of the country's movers and shakers, had been asked to perform. When she informed the organisers that her price would "depend on the number of heads in the audience," she was shimmied off the list of performers.

Lucy's performance was a few notches higher in the class department than what Fifi could have provided. Barramching! Lucy's hips jolt to the right. Barramching, ching, ching! Lucy's hips jut-jut-jut to the left. Her expressionless face cracks a smile as the audience begins to appreciate her physical rendition of the music played by a live band. She dances as though she is singing, sometimes extending her arms upwards, miming a soprano. She reappeared for her second sequence dressed in a sizzling red concerto gown -- albeit, one exhibiting more cleavage than any conservatoire would allow -- and short auburn wig. For her final sequence, she emerged in a translucent black and silver dishdasha with a cane in hand. Here, she paid homage to Soheir Zaki who was sitting in the audience. "Up," she gestured and a gushing Zaki obeyed, giddy at the prospect of dancing before an audience again. It was a sentimental scene when the two ladies danced in embrace.

When Lucy's number was up, the guests were told they could finally approach the buffet. By now it was past midnight, and everyone was famished. I had to fight my way through the throng with a fork for a morsel of chicken kofta. When I returned to sample the desserts, not only had the serving dishes been wiped clean, but "they have eaten the spoons too," quipped one unfortunate guest. Back to our respective tables. The pièce de resistance was about to make her way on-stage.

Dina is the quintessential belly dancer. This fact cannot be disputed. With a mane of jet black ringlets down her back and a cleavage virtually bursting out of her bustier, she appears as though she has been peeled off one of those Orientalist paintings they peddle in Khan Al-Khalili "art" shops. All she has to do is stand there, and the male audience is satisfied, as the smiles plastered on faces attested, even when she had left the room to change between sequences.

But she is anything but immobile. She is full of expression, flirty, mischievous and suggestive. She shakes about with a broad infectious smile, dragging her legs and her arms in wide motions like a gypsy dancer. She has a few gestures that constitute her trademark, like when she makes eye contact with some hapless gent in the audience, then points to her navel. When his eyes follow, she erupts in laughter and goes on with her business.

Her costumes are another matter. For her first sequence, she sauntered on stage in a candy pink outfit, reminiscent of the one worn by Barbara Eden in the 1960s hit series "I Dream of Genie." In her second sequence, she wore a blue iridescent butterfly-shaped bustier and a floral print cache-maillot wrapped around her hips. The third sequence, she came out dressed in a fire-engine red slip-like costume, shredded at the hem. What is remarkable about this woman is the fact that mere months have passed since she gave birth to her son Ali and she is in better shape than some unmarried women. She may come across as the bimbo of belly-dance, but this would be, quite literally, a show. Dina holds a master's degree in philosophy and is well-travelled, having lived in Rome for many years. A closer look at her performances and one clearly detects a calculated image.

When I left the hotel, it was past 2.00am. Dina was still dancing -- in a fourth ensemble, black with gold trimmings. Every single guest was still in place. The magic of Oriental dance has not been lost, despite growing fears that Westernisation (or globalisation) will erode local culture.

"Arab dance must be spread," said Soheir Zaki, when asked what she thought of foreigners taking on the dance. "The whole world should appreciate it." But can they ever really capture its essence?

Source: Al-Ahram

An Introduction to Belly Dance

Published: February 03, 2007
Writer: Nadia De Leon

Authentic Belly Dance is not the deceptive immoral dance of seduction that western Hollywood-influenced stereotypes would have us believe. Belly Dance has been misrepresented by cabaret dancers and incorrectly portrayed to the public by the media. In reality, Belly Dance is a natural, earthly, beneficial, enjoyable and completely ethical dance that honors women and femininity. The proper term for this dance, which can both be a highly disciplined art as well as a form of casual exercise and entertainment, is Oriental Dance. The first American teachers disliked the word "belly dance" because of its wrong sexual connotation and focus on the women's torsos and not on their dancing technique. In her article Roots the well-known and respected teacher Morocco (Carolina Vargas Dinicu), who has more than thirty years studying, performing and teaching Belly Dance, states: "To use the disgusting misnomer 'belly dance' is not only incorrect, it is an insult equivalent to calling Flamenco 'cockroach killing'"[1]. Nowadays, the term Belly Dance has been accepted by many teachers and reclaimed by new dancers because the body part where the movements are focused is, indeed, the belly. And this has nothing to do with a seductive goal; in fact, it has to do with fertility.

Many dance scholars support a theory that places Belly Dance as the oldest dance in the history of humanity, stating that it originated as a fertility ritual thousands of years ago. They use as evidence for their theory 17,000 years-old rock engravings found in southern Italy, Greece and Egypt, as well as famous fertility goddesses/ women sculptures such as the Venus of Willendorf. Furthermore, some dance researchers, such as dancer, writer and editor Daniella Gioseffi in her book Earth Dancing, claim that Belly Dancing was originally a ritual form for the Mother Earth Goddess in primal matriarchal or polytheistic societies where the dance honored femininity and was passed down from mothers to daughters.

Another important theory about the origin of Belly Dance is the one based on its childbirth facilitation and training capabilities. Several dancers including the famed dance ethnologist La Meri, who traveled extensively throughout the Middle East for research and training purposes in the '20s and '30s, claim to have witnessed rituals in which a woman in labor is surrounded by other women who perform Belly Dancing in a sort of hypnotizing ritual for moral support.

Belly Dancing arrived to America as an imported cabaret spectacle referred to as Danse du ventre, which originated in the Middle East during the colonization of Africa by European countries. Referring to this degradation process, the Armenian dancer

Armen Ohanian states in her book The Dancer of Shamahka:

Thus in Cairo one evening I saw, with sick incredulous eyes, one of our most sacred dances degraded into a bestiality horrible and revolting. It is our poem of the mystery and pain of motherhood, which all true Asiatic men watch with reverence and humility, in the far corners of Asia where the destructive breath of the Occident has not yet penetrated. In this olden Asia, which has kept the dance in its primitive purity, it represents maternity, the mysterious conception of life, the suffering and the joy with which a new soul is brought in the world. Could any man born of woman contemplate this most holy subject, expressed in an art so pure and so ritualistic as our eastern dance, with less than profound reverence? Such is our Asiatic veneration of motherhood, that there are countries and tribes whose most sacred oath is sworn upon the stomach, because it is from this sacred cup that humanity has issued. But the spirit of the Occident had touched this holy dance, and it became the horrible 'danse du ventre' I heard the lean Europeans chuckling, I saw lascivious smiles upon even the lips of Asiatics, and I fled.

Even today in some Middle Eastern regions that remain unaffected by the influence of Western ways of thinking, women dance in a circle around a mother in labor to induce her to repeat the movements and to give her the psychological support showed in the live-giving gift in every woman's destiny. In the informal and familial settings of some Muslim societies, women still gather by themselves in a separate location to dance to the rhythms of the drums, have fun and interact. This traditional form of Belly Dance is called Raks-sharki. Nevertheless, in most of the Middle East the rise of Political Islam has led to more puritanical attitudes in general. Dancers who appear in public, dancing in front of men who are not family to them contradict orthodox Islamic values. As a result, the widely held notion that professional dancers are prostitutes is being reinforced through the Arab countries, from Afghanistan to Morocco. In Egypt the rise of Political Islam is creating a backlash against Belly Dance. By law, in the country that names itself as the place where Belly Dance was born, these dancers cannot dance in television, and police monitors live performances to ensure that the dancer's skirt ends below the knee and that the navel is covered, even if only with transparent material.[2]

These attitudes might sound opposite to our values of freedom and free will, but they are actually understandable given Arab religious and cultural values. Therefore, what I find strange is that here in the U.S. dancing Belly Dance could be a cause to suffer the weight of many prejudices. Dance should be respected as a universal language that allows us to better understand the cultures of others. The fact is, it is impossible to even try understanding cultures different to ours, or widen our concepts in general, if we do not start with an open mind that does not judge dances by the amount of clothes wore by the dancers instead of the cultural meaning attached to them. Once again, the dancer Morocco states this indignation in wonderful words in her article Roots:

When I first came into Oriental dance (...), I was drawn by the beauty of its music and movements and gave no thought to the possibility that it might be misinterpreted by ignorant or misinformed viewers. Innocent that I was, I assumed that the grace of a skilled dancer was sufficient to prove the beauty and legitimacy of this ancient art form. How wrong I was! I've lost count of the times that an erroneous and degrading value judgment of my morality and worthiness was made, based on (...) previous performances of those who, in every profession, cater to the lowest common denominator.[3]

The truth is that Belly dance does not only have many physiological benefits (including good posture, muscular strength, coordination, cardiovascular fitness, eases menstrual pains, improves circulation and digestion, and releases tension), it also has several psychological benefits. Most importantly, it improves self-image and confidence, which is a very important benefit, especially for young women. Belly Dance lets us get in contact with our body and accept it as it is. Belly Dance makes any thin or overweight woman enjoy feminine dancing. This acceptance of ourselves in front of the mirror image as much as in front of other people is more easily achieved in an "only girls" atmosphere. That's why many Belly Dance teachers, including myself, don't even aloud men in their studios. Second, Belly Dance also develops teamwork and a deep feeling of sisterhood among the members of a "dancing troupe". Tribal Belly Dance is danced in couples or larger groups where dance is improvised by the "cue-er", who is the woman on the front left corner. This title is shared because of the rotation of positions, resulting in a group dynamic in which the higher level of team work is reached with the synchronicity of the dancers.

Belly Dance can be a way of life, or something a woman does "just for kicks every other Friday night", but it is always beneficial to the women who practice it. Belly Dance has a way of seducing us, women, into the quest for the light of our own feminine identity, as well as constructing a place of belonging for that identity, in history, in society, regardless of the time, place and culture we come from. Belly Dance invokes and evokes the universal energy of womanhood from the astral collective consciousness into our striking present, into our sweat and skin, the tips of our fingers, and the rhythm of our hearts beating life.

[1] Vargas Dinicu, Carolina (Morocco), Roots, Habibi Vol.5 No.12

[2] Nieuwkerk, Karin van, A trade like any other: female singers and dancers in Egypt, Austin : University of Texas Press, 1995.

[3] Vargas Dinicu, Carolina (Morocco), Roots, Habibi Vol.5 No.12

Source: Associated Content

Gyrate Expectations

Moms-to-be give belly dancing a whirl for fitness and fun
By Lori Price of the Journal Sentinel
Posted: Sep. 9, 2008

In many ways, the belly-dancing class was exactly what you'd expect.

A professional belly dancer guided nine women in coin-fringed hip scarves through snaky, seductive motions: hip lifts, pelvic circles, a few shimmies.

Then Stefanie Masters, the instructor, made a suggestion that hinted at why this class was so different.

"If anyone is feeling (confident), you can lift your shirt up to see your belly," Masters said.

Silence. Only one woman tucked the hem of her shirt into its neckline to expose her pregnant belly.

The free class, held at Destination Maternity in Brookfield, is part of a national wave of women taking up belly dancing as a fun way to stay fit.

Hip-popping singer Shakira and increased access to world music have helped push belly dancing, which has roots in various ancient cultures, into mainstream circles. The home fitness market includes DVDs on belly dancing for pregnancy, and YouTube.com carries instructional videos on prenatal belly dancing.

Safe exercise

Belly-dance experts at area studios say some pregnant women are joining their non-prenatal classes. And they've noticed that women already in class are continuing after they become pregnant - something that once caused women to take a break from belly dancing.

Anywhere from five to 10 pregnant or postpartum women attend Masters' class each week. As a result, she and several other local teachers offer modified belly dance instruction for pregnant women: letting them dance in a chair, keeping activity at low-impact levels and eliminating spins and whirls.

Crystal Ruffin, an obstetrician / gynecologist with Froedtert and the Medical College of Wisconsin, said as long as a woman who is experiencing a normal pregnancy doesn't do any of the jerky movements or sudden motions in belly dance, it's a safe option.

Fitness in general is important for pregnant women, several doctors said.

"Exercise during pregnancy . . . does give a woman a better sense of self and helps them not gain so much weight or body fat," said Michelle Douglas, a doctor of osteopathic medicine with Wheaton Franciscan Medical Group.

"(It) can help with a lot of musculoskeletal pains women experience when they're pregnant, such as low back pain. And it can possibly give you an easier, shorter labor and less depression.

"If your body is more fit, your body will endure more and be able to bounce back."

Pregnant women who are looking for fun fitness options - as well as ways to make pregnancy, labor, delivery and recovery easier - are finding that belly dancing's sultry tools, well, deliver.

"It just sounded like an interesting way to exercise and move your body," said Marie Ponder, who's a little more than seven months pregnant with her first child. She attended Masters' class for the first time last week.

"There is walking and going to the gym and doing elliptical work, but that doesn't sound appealing at all when you're pregnant," said Ponder, 26. "I was curious to know what this would be like."

So, how was it?

"I loved it," she said. "It's funny, because you think of being pregnant as being swollen and big and you gain weight. But it actually makes you feel in touch with your body and makes you feel sexy."

Certainly, belly dancing's sensuous side can improve the moods of pregnant women, who often feel awkward in their growing, changing bodies. But it's the dance's key components - posture, breathing and focus - that make it a natural fit for pregnancy.

Traditional moves such as pelvic circles and figure eights strengthen abdominal muscles that are used in labor and delivery. Shimmies, another well-recognized move, have even been said to induce labor, Masters said.

"It tones all of your core muscles, and you actually use a lot of those muscles and the undulations we do in belly dance during labor and delivery," said Shaia Fahrid of Shaia Fahrid Egyptian Dance Studio and Productions.

Lidia Brown, 36, who attends Masters' class and gave birth to a daughter two months ago, said belly dancing made a difference in her nine-month term, labor and delivery.

Brown, who also has a son, said she experienced extreme back pain during both pregnancies. But after she started belly dancing in the seventh month of her last pregnancy, she noticed that the stretching and posture alignment tips she picked up in the classes helped to relieve the pain.

"My back would still hurt, but when I went to class, I wouldn't have the pain anymore, even if it was just for a couple of days after the class," she said.

And all she thought about during the birth of her daughter was breathing.

"Even the nurses were saying, 'Wow, you're breathing really well,' " recalled Brown, who used no pain medication during the birth. She believes all of it - breathing, stronger core muscles, increased energy level - led to a faster delivery. She pushed for 40 minutes to deliver her daughter, she said; it took three hours of pushing to deliver her son two years ago.

A shared experience

But belly dancing classes are not all about the physical, said Masters. The classes also help women connect with their unborn child, establish relationships with each other and reduce the self-conscious feelings some pregnant women say they experience.

"We're giving them a chance to come to the class and build a community," Masters said. "When we build a community, we're allowing them to be connected, and when they feel connected, they don't feel the negativity because they're joined by others who are experiencing what they are going through."

Source: Journal Sentinel Online

Around the world in 80 sways

Written by: Lina Das
Last updated at 8:00 PM on 27th September 2008

They've performed for crown princes and rock stars in a 'celebration of femininity and sensuality' that attracts dancers from 17 to 70. Meet the Bellydance Superstars who are back to shake up the UK.

A disused missile launch base overlooking Los Angeles is not the first place one would expect to find a troupe of exotically dressed beauties, but the Bellydance Superstars, currently pulling elegant shapes in front of a bemused mix of joggers, dogs and passers-by, have played to stranger audiences than this.


Petite Jamilla, a pretty 25-year-old, has done her time dancing in Turkish restaurants ('at times it was horrible – luckily my parents insisted on chaperoning me to every job'), while Bozenka, the dancer credited with honing the belly-dancing skills of hip-swivelling singer Shakira ('Every girl comes to me saying they want to dance like Shakira!'), performed for Hugh Hefner ('he was surrounded by beautiful women and I felt like I was part of some bizarre scene; I did my half hour and left').

Audiences, like family members, can't often be chosen. But in the case of the Bellydance Superstars, they are certainly expanding. The world's most famous belly-dancing troupe, they have performed to more than a million people since their inception six years ago.

Formed by Miles Copeland (the man who guided Sting's career for a quarter of a century), the group has taken a niche dance form and turned it into a worldwide business.

They have performed for luminaries as diverse as Prince Albert of Monaco and rock star Alice Cooper, and in a move akin to taking ice to the Eskimos, the troupe, consisting almost entirely of Americans, has even performed to rapturous applause in the Middle East.

This October sees them touring Britain – a country proving itself to be a surprising hotbed of belly-dance activity.

Recently, Cambridge graduate Emma Chapman made headlines when she decided to forgo her job as a research scientist to become a full-time belly dancer, and who can forget the look of rapture on Simon Cowell's face when contestant Sophie Mei got to last season's semi-final of Britain's Got Talent with her mesmerising belly-dance routine?


There are now more than 1,000 belly-dance classes dotted around the UK and what was once seen solely as a dance performed by largish ladies in restaurants of dubious repute is now viewed as a legitimate career.

None of this would have been possible without the canny guidance of 64-year-old Copeland, the troupe's manager.

'Initially, I got a lot of flak from the belly-dance community who were worried that it was all going to be about pretty young girls in revealing costumes. The way I see it, it's a celebration of femininity and sensuality; our audiences are roughly 70 per cent women to 30 per cent men.'

The girls themselves are at pains to stress that their performance is sensual rather than sexual.

Yes, the girls are young and pretty; yes, their costumes are cut to emphasise their feminine curves (low-cut bras and waist-revealing, floor-length skirts) and yes, the chaps around us are having trouble pulling themselves together, but it's hard to imagine any of these women allowing anyone to shovel notes into their bra straps (though, apparently, the correct etiquette for showing appreciation of a belly dancer is to sprinkle notes over her head).

RACHEL BRICE, MID-30S (left)
FORMER JOB Worked in a café
SHE SAYS 'I cried when I first saw belly-dancing 20 years ago because it was so moving. I learned the moves by buying all the tapes I could find and copying the movements frame by frame'

KAMI LIDDLE, 27 (right)
FORMER JOB Manager in charge of loading aircraft
SHE SAYS 'We'd just got back from Taiwan and there were queues around the block for our autographs. It was like Beatlemania!'

MORIA CHAPPELL, 29 (centre)
FORMER JOB Make-up artist
SHE SAYS 'For my costume I wear about 34 medallions, seven bangles, five rings and four necklaces. It takes me about two hours to get ready for every show and about 100 hours to create my costume.

Samantha Hasthorpe, 28, from Devon – the only Brit in the troupe – scoffs at the idea that the dance is a sexual one. 'It's not the kind of dance where you see us going up to guys and sitting on their knees, which is the image I'd had previously of belly dancing,' she says. 'We dance as a group, not solo, and we couldn't care less if anyone's watching us. I feel completely empowered when I'm performing and I'm definitely not pandering to anyone but myself.'

The girl power message is one articulated by all of the dancers. Bozenka, a half-Czech, half-Cuban dancer, holds workshops around the world.

'Lots of my students get into belly-dancing as a way of getting back their self-esteem,' she says.

'One had been abused as a young girl. She was painfully shy, and her aunt brought her to my classes to try to bring her out of herself. It took some time, but the process of rehearsing, putting on make-up and feeling comfortable with her body during the classes helped to bring her out of her shell.' Samantha tells a similar story.

'The reason my mum took me to my first belly-dancing class was because I had low self-esteem. I was 16 years old, moody and had no confidence in my looks. Belly-dancing helped change that. I still have moments of self-doubt, but I'm more comfortable with myself and at my happiest when up on stage.'

Another key to belly-dance's appeal is its accessibility. 'I have a 70-year-old grandmother in my class,' says Bozenka.

'She doesn't feel comfortable going to nightclubs any more, but in my class she is welcomed and respected by everybody. That's the great thing about belly-dance – you can be any age or any size. It doesn't matter what you look like.'

BOZENKA, 32 (pictured left)
FORMER JOB Preschool teacher
SHE SAYS 'A friend and I once danced at a party in the Bahamas where Sean Connery was a guest. My friend dragged him and his wife up on stage to dance with us and he was so cute. He kept laughing at the fact that he had two left feet'

SAMANTHA HASTHORPE, 28
FORMER JOB Hod carrier
SHE SAYS 'The guys I used to work with are pretty surprised I've gone from hod carrying to belly dancing, but they're going to come and see me on this tour. The money's not quite as good yet, but I still wouldn't give up dancing for anything'

PETITE JAMILLA, 25 (real name: Jessica Parrish)
FORMER JOB Belly dancing in restaurants
SHE SAYS 'I started belly dancing when I was three and my mum was doing it till she was 67. It's one of the few dances where a woman can celebrate her body at any age'

It is a message echoed by Copeland, who insists: 'If I found a 60-year-old woman who was as big as a house, but could walk on stage and be alluring and captivating, I'd have her on the show in a second.'

Sadly, that has yet to transpire. The troupe members range in age from 21 to 39, but although they are slim, they are far from skinny.

As the girls undulate and ripple to drummer Issam Houshan's hypnotic beats, I glimpse some reassuring folds of belly among the sequins. And therein lies the success not only of the troupe but also of the dance form.

'As a teenager, I needed a dance that appreciated my curves,' says Petite Jamilla. 'With belly-dancing, it doesn't matter what body shape you are – but I think it helps to have curves.'

However, belly-dancing can also help you lose weight (you can work off anything up to 300 calories with a vigorous shimmy). It also relieves stress and even premenstrual tension.

More importantly though, it enables like-minded women to get together for a bit of a laugh.

'I get letters from women all over America who have formed their own troupes,' says Copeland. 'It's exciting, a bit of risqué fun, and like rock'n'roll in the sense that you feel as if you can get up there and try it yourself.'

And that is precisely the charm of the Bellydance Superstars – a group of normal girls getting the chance to live out their dreams and earn good money (a top-notch Bellydance Superstar can make anything up to £65,000 a year through workshops and DVDs).

Copeland thinks of his dancers as a kind of healing balm, showing America that Middle Eastern culture is nothing to fear and showing the Middle East that women can and should be a force to be reckoned with.

With instructional DVDs, a perfume line and even a Middle East reality TV show in the pipeline, he is not a man with limited ambitions.

'The days when a belly dancer would wobble into a restaurant, do a ten-minute set, then sit around till the following weekend have long gone. I want my dancers to become world famous.'


The Bellydance Superstars will tour the UK from 19-30 October. See bellydancesuperstars.com.

Source: MailOnline

Science graduate gives up lab work for belly-dancing

By Neil Sears
Last updated at 7:14 PM on 18th August 2008

Armed with a degree from Cambridge University, Emma Chapman swiftly won a job as a scientist.

For four years she has been carrying out ground-breaking research into the structure of molecules in a bid to create new medicines.

But now she has decided to swap her lab coat for a sequined skirt and a new career as a belly-dancer.

And although she has taken a pay cut, Miss Chapman says she had no regrets about deserting her test tubes so she can wiggle her middle six nights a week.

Miss Chapman, who earned a 2:1 degree in Natural Sciences at Christ's College, Cambridge, said: 'Belly-dancing gives me the freedom to be who I want.

'It's just so much more enjoyable than being in the lab. I can't imagine going back to a nine-to-five job.'

Miss Chapman, 28, who lives in Cambridge, started belly-dancing in 1998 when she saw a class advertised and decided to give it a go.

The hobby soon became a passion, and after years of perfecting her technique she started teaching classes, which she found much more fun than her day job.

'A friend of mine who lived locally and taught classes was moving away and asked me to take over her teaching,' she said.

'I though I couldn't do both my lab job and the classes, so I ditched my full-time job. It was slightly scary because I had no idea if it would work, but it's been totally exhilarating.'

And although leaving her job in medicinal chemistry at leading pharmaceutical research company Cambridge Biotechnology has led to a fall in income, she says the personal benefits are huge.

Emma now teaches other aspiring dancers six nights a week and says she could not imagine returning to chemistry

Miss Chapman added: 'I love being able to run my own business and make my own decisions. I've got much more independence.

'I'm not the kind of person who likes being told what to do.'

Miss Chapman has been fully supported in her career change by her fiance, Dr Patrick Driscoll, 28, an auditor studying to become an accountant, and her father Malcolm Chapman, 60, a retired purchaser in the petrochemicals industry.

And no-one at her laboratory expressed any surprise about her decision to give it all up either.

'If they thought anything was funny about it they didn't say anything to my face,' said Miss Chapman.

'My dad is really proud that he has a daughter with her own business - he always shows my website to all his friends,' she said.

'And I'm sure some people thought I was mad doing this, but now my friends think it's really cool.'

Miss Chapman, who has more than 100 students, said belly-dancing has become hugely popular, and all her classes for September are already booked up.

She teaches private lessons at weekends in addition to her weeknight classes, and has to practise for at least one hour every day to keep her standards up.

But she does not miss science despite devoting eight years of her life to it.

'I am so much happier now,' she said. 'I did enjoy studying science at university but this is just so much more fun.'

And Miss Chapman said that while belly-dancing is not a difficult hobby to pick-up, perfecting the art can take time.

'All the movements are based on our bodies natural range of motion, so most people take to belly-dancing pretty quickly,' she said.

'But getting really good needs lots of effort and practice - which is why I have to practise every day.

'I really hope I can inspire more people to get involved with belly-dancing - it's such a brilliant skill to have.'

Emma spent four years studying at Christ's College and four years as a research scientist before setting up her own belly-dancing business. Here she is at her degree ceremony:

Miss Chapman spends most of her time as a belly dancer teaching - with ten lesson courses starting at £55 - but is a member of actors' union Equity and performs professionally too.

She is mainly influenced by the modern Egyptian style of belly-dance, but also enjoys creating dramatic dances that draw on Flamenco, Oriental and Gothic styles.

Next month she is due to appear at the Arts Depot in north London in a one-off show entitled Arabian Dance Theatre.

Miss Chapman earned between £20,000 and £30,000 as a scientist - and now earns less as a belly dancer.

'Scientists are not very well paid considering the amount of training they do,' she said. 'Belly dancers are even less well paid - but this career change wasn't about money.'

She added that although when she was working as a scientist she spent her evenings belly-dancing, now that she is a belly-dancer she does not conduct experiments in her spare time.

And she is not the first scientist to leave the laboratory for a profession requiring very different skills.

Four years ago molecular biologist Dr Karl Gensberg abandoned his post at Birmingham University to retrain as a plumber in a bid to double his annual salary of £23,000.

He said: 'I just thought "what am I doing?" My work is a combination of zero career structure, contractual abuse and pathetic pay, which is a pretty poor package.'

Source: Mail Online

"I want all the women in all the world to belly dance."

Belly dancing choreographer Hassan Khalil speaks to Yoga Travel.

Hassan Khalil is a professor in the Higher Institute of Dramatic Arts in Cairo. He teaches oriental dancing all over the world, but, ironically not allowed to teach belly dancing in Egypt - it has been banned in public institutions.

"Like any art, belly dancing started with religion. It came from the times of the pharaohs: you can see them dancing in the tombs and temples. The form of their movements expressed their connection to the gods. To open themselves to the gods they used movement from the womb - the most sensitive and holy place in their bodies. Their hand positions too were a form of prayer: putting their hands above their heads and out to one side, for example, meant talking to god. In Pharonic times the shapes they made were a language with which they communicated with the gods.

Belly dancing is all based upon the womb. Where do you think we get the word woman? I am a man, she is womb-man. Belly dancing is the movement of the holy place of the woman - the womb is where it all starts. The secret of belly dance is not in the dance - it's in the woman.

Civilisation today structures how women live - go on the metro, sit at the computer, run up stairs - all things that are contrary to the rhythms of her body. They are looking for the relationship between the power and energy within them and themselves. They're searching for the fine art of their bodies in space.

When I teach the women in Europe I say to them: 'shake your breasts.' Of course they refuse. But I insist: 'Shake them. Shake.' And then they do it and sometimes they scream. They start to feel themselves as a female person. Life is monotonous. But with another rhythm, it can free you from the daily rhythm of everyday life.

Every woman has the physiology. In Egypt we call belly dancing 'the mother' because it gives women the ability to prove the freedom of their body. We did a class in Frankfut with deaf girls. They felt the music through the ground, and they danced. The city mayor was there - he cried. It was the first time they heard their body. And blind women too, they'd never seen the movement in their lives, but they could do the dance - it was a miracle, they could feel their bodies. One and a half million girls in Brazil doing it. This is not fashion - this is women feeling themselves."

Source: YogaTravel

"Of course it's exhibitionist, but all girls like to feel sexy."

Dancer Keti Shariff talks to Yoga Travel.


Keti Shariff trains belly dancers in Cairo and travels all over the world to dance, although not in Egypt. She is booked by clients for shows or weddings, then flies out to perform. We sit in the opulent surroundings of Cairo's Marriot hotel.

What does belly dancing mean?
"It's about many things - physical, sexual, sensual, fitness. It's about female empowerment, and about feeling sexy. And of course it's about glitter and dressing up. But originally the shapes and postures used in belly dancing were representations of nature, to worship god. In fact, one of the early stars - Tahira Kareoka - her father was a sheik in a mosque."

Is it exhibitionist?
"Of course, but all girls like to feel sexy. You know, in some ways it has never left the harem. It's always been about women dancing amoungst themselves. There's a group of you and you dance together, you show off what you know. It's not at all for the men - it's for us."

Why don't you dance in Egypt any more?
"I realized that I didn't want to dance any more in Egypt when I was dancing at the Nile Hilton. The manager took me aside and told me I had to get an AIDS test. He explained that they like their customers to stay for a long time, to spend a lot of money in the hotels, and to make that happen the dancers, you know, we have to get close to them. He said it because he knew that I was new to dancing, and to let me know that it's not always a clean business. But that was it. Now I don't dance in Egypt any more."

What do people think of you as a dancer?
"When I tell Egpytians that I'm a dancer they look at me a bit strangely and their eyes go wide. They can't really understand. But when I get talking to them about the old stars of the past and they're like 'oh yes, they were the greats', then they know that I'm doing it for the love of the dance, not in a sleazy sense."

What is the state of belly dancing in Egypt today?
"Most Egyptian girls get into it because they want to become actresses. Or to get onto TV. They see people like Shakira and Britney belly dancing and they want to be like them. But the dancers here are not the role models they used to be. In the 40s and the 50s there were really big stars, people still talk about them today, that was the golden age of belly dancing.

"People are interested in different stuff thess days. They don't book dancers for private parties so much any more. Younger couples getting married don't automatically look for a dancer at their weddings. These days they look for something different - maybe a jazz band. Belly dancing just isn't on their radar.

In some ways it's going back to its roots - it's always been a hidden thing. Maybe in ten years time it will re-emerge again into the glamour of the old days, when the young girls start seeing the big stars and saying - I want to do that."

Source: YogaTravel

Liza Laziza: "What's wrong with being a dancer who just loves to dance?"

By: Will Cottrell

Liza is an early fortyish woman, born in Iran and raised in London. These days she lives and works as a dancer in Cairo and commands a salary of 'thousands' per party, except in her favourite venue back in London, where 'I couldn't ask anything like that'. We talk in her flat in Cairo's fashionable Zamalek district. The flat is richly decorated with oriental furniture. On the walls are pictures of her dancing in the desert - blue costume against the white sand, shiffon scarves trailing in the breeze.

"Once my bra strap broke mid way through a perfomance," she begins. "I managed to get off stage - but my dressing woman had it back together and I was back on stage within thirty seconds." She's even had a whisky glass thrown at her: "that was my fault, my Arabic wasn't so good then and I think instead of calling someone my brother I called him a homosexual - not good in Arab society," she smirks.

"Belly dancing is not only to do with the belly: it's in the hips, the arms, the waist - it's the whole body. I'm translating the rythmn and melody into my body. It's a powerful expression of women without words. It's saying it's OK to be sexy and powerful - but not vulgar. It's being dignified."

What can western women gain from belly dancing?
"A lot of women want to do it because they love the music. There's others who want to tone their body. Some need it cos they're shy and low self-esteem. Taking lessons and performing in groups gives them self-esteem - an acceptance, an acknowledgement. It's both very personal and very public. The women that are drawn to it are definitely interested in the woman side of it. I had one woman - she was an engineer - she said, I'm not in my body at all. I want to find myself as a women, she said. It's a very feminine dance."

What's so special about Egypt?
"It's the only middle eastern country that is - possibly - democratic. It has alcohol - and as far as the dance is concerned it's as old as the pyramids. Cairo is the heart of the dance. Thirty years ago there was nightclubs everywhere. Every four or five star hotel had a nightclub -the money was huge."

"Then the rot set in. If you look at movies of the last ten or twenty years they all depicts the dancer as a theif, a liar, a prostitute, man eater. Recently Dina has declined to act in any film that depicts dancers in a negative light. Several months ago Fifi Abdou was interviewed, the interviewer was making out that dancers are bad - she said 'what is wrong with being a dancer who just loves to dance?' I always think what's your issue, why can't you handle it. It's your dirty mind."

Source: YogaTravel

Dina: Daring, Debauched or simply Delightful?

"You have to be strong. You have to continue your career, you have to be strong everyday."
Exclusive Yoga Travel interview with top belly dancer Dina
By Will Cottrell

As the country's best belly dancer, Dina is one of the most famous women in Egypt. Yet the Egyptian press have regularly enjoyed the eruptions of her personal life. In 2002, a video appeared of the dancer in bed with her third husband. She fled the country, vowing never to dance again. She returned, however, to sue him, eventually also sending the editor of a national newspaper to jail. Six months later she returned to dancing - commanding fees higher than ever.

"Last year happened like a bang. Oh my god. I just stopped everything. It was written in all the magazines. Somebody called and told me. My first reaction was to get out of here so I went abroad. I kind of hid.

A week later I felt less shocked. I closed everything. I stayed at home for two months. Then I started to go outside a bit. After six months I started to act. But I missed dancing. My friends helped me. They said that this has happened and that if you meet any bad guy he can do this. You have to be strong. You have to continue your career, you have to be strong everyday.

And I still have to be strong - but now I feel like I didn't do anything wrong. Everybody eats, drinks, has sex. I have to tell myself this all the time. He was my husband and one day he'll come out of jail, but I don't want to see him. I didn't just have it all in public - I lost my husband too."

You studied philosophy of theatre at university. What did you enjoy about that?
"I liked the Sufistayeen (a philosophy based on the sufi mystical sect). When you say yes, they say no. When you say go out, they say stay in. I really love them. I also like Freud. How women can take care of her child. He put sex in the world. I like the way he talked about how to handle children. I respect him very much."

How does philosophy of theatre help a dancer?
"Philosophy gives you an experience of people. When I'm on stage I know what the audience is like. Then I can adjust my performance to suit the audience - this is very important for a belly dancer. I don't just do what I want - I do what they want."

How has the press coverage of the video affected your life?"I don't hear what people say about me. I'm a dancer - I do it because I love it. When I began I was full of power to do what I like: I didn't hear anyone. I love dancing. I'm not looking to my reputation, I love dancing. I don't care what people say. "

What advice would you give to a dancer just starting out?"Belly dancing makes women feel like they're feminine. That it's good to be a woman: that women are very beautiful. It's in the dress and the movement. For professionals though, they must train, train, train. I train three days a week, another three days in the gym and another one for different dancing - like jazz, like cha, cha. They must take the ballet bar, for hands, for the head, the have to do yoga. They have to keep smiling in the mirror."

How do you see the future of belly dancing in Egypt?
"Things have been going downhill for the last four years. Bars are changing to different styles and there aren't many Egpytian belly dancers coming up. That's what has allowed foreigners to come in. This year I've seen in video clips that they're belly dancing, but they're called singers. It's more acceptable like that.

Actually, I'm not seeing anything new. We need ten or twenty good dancers but there's not even five. It's very bad. If it stays like this then the future is outside - in Europe. In Finland I did a workshop - I was standing on stage and in front of me 800 women were practicing in a hall. And from that thousand some good dancers will come."

Source: YogaTravel