“Dance is the hidden language of the soul.”
-Martha Graham
The psychology behind belly dance comes from the fear of what the public, or family, might say. More importantly, it’s what your fears will say: Will I fall? What if I don’t hear the music change? Am I keeping time with the drummer? Am I on the balls of my feet? Am I sucking it in enough? Oh God, please don’t let the safety pin come undone and OOPS my bra falls to the ground and my tits are out in the open!! Do I look alright? Keep smiling!
Fears are endless, but the performance goes on.
Belly dancing is an art form all on its own. Serenity is the goal to accomplish while performing with grace and elegance. The purpose is to capture and hold the eye of the beholder during the moment that counts. Pose with a smile. Slowly undulate and move the body in a way that states I’m comfortable with my presence. Are you?
There is pain one feels from the bottom of the jaw straight to the bottom of the feet. There is a soreness that is only relieved with rest and a nice massage. Your feet get used to dancing with splinters, which are later removed from your director, sister, or trusty friend. This is done because there is a deep love built within and around the foundation of Belly Dance.
Starting out in this world is easier than maintaining it. I started for the love, for the intrigue, to feel different and absolute. My first class was amazing. I loved the days that I attended the studio and scheduled my life around the pounding music, the sweat, and the insight I was relatively gaining with each session. After a few months of dancing, the director asked me to perform as one of the greatest belly dancers, Fifi Abdou, in a show titled Legends. Fifi Abdou is a great dancer who did things her way, for her people, for her country. Legends is a tribute to all the great mothers of Belly dance.
The first month of rehearsals increased. Class times increased. Nerves increased. Weight decreased. Practice, research, performances, the calm and peace consume the body while the mind operates without any thoughts of consequences, anxieties, or caution. We were learning to feed satisfaction to the audience, giving them heart, giving them soul. While the dancer feeds the pleasure principle to the viewer, at the same time, the dancer is feeding herself her personal pleasure platter:
That wonderful feeling of completion. Accomplishment. Triumph. In Yo Face!
Legends was going to start and we were given the song, Ya Manga, to learn our choreography. We were practicing, practicing, practicing and it didn’t matter how much practice you put in, the nerves were still jumpin, jumpin. The first week leading up to the show, my senses were a jambalaya of excitement and fear. I couldn’t snap out of it. I was breathing, sleeping, and eating Belly Dance.
I listened to Ya Manga ad nauseum. I was annoying everyone around me with my singing, chanting the moves, and muttering the steps to myself. Every chance I could, I embraced it with dedication to my solo. My meditation consisted of and envisioned each moment, which foot I was starting with, how I would move in time with the music, when and how I was going to walk down the stairs, to the center of the floor and to include the audience. These were essential for me to go over, to remember what, exactly, I was doing. I had a much bigger purpose here. I was not only representing myself. I was representing the ladies I was dancing with. Most important of all, I was representing my director, who seen everything in me, in us. Pressure? Nope, none. Not at all. What does that word even mean? Pressure? Ppppfffftttt.
I was scared out of my mind!
The night of the show came and finally, my obsession practicing could settle. I was standing in the dressing room, waiting for our memories to begin. The other dancers were already familiar with the process of performing. I was not. My heart was beating wildly, my mind was forgetting certainties, and my body and mind couldn’t keep still. Another dancer, who was newer than I was, felt the same amount of antsiness as I. Puking at that point would have been some form of relief, yet I don’t think it would have accomplished anything other than ruining my red lipstick and tangling my wig.
The moment of memory-building began once I heard the familiar notes of the accordion beginning the road to Ya Manga. I have obsessively attached myself to those same notes for a month, so there was no way in hell, on Earth, or in heaven, that I was ever going to miss those notes. The moment was ours. My eyes directed to my equal, we smiled and I muttered Show time.
The famous belly dancers procession of that night is as follows:
1. Samiya Gamal
2. Tahiya Carioca
3. Suheir Zaki
4. Nagwa Fouad
5. Fifi Abdo
The ladies wait backstage and, as each famous belly dancer is called, the lady playing the part of said dancer, appears on stage to dance as the legend she is honorably portraying. She begins on the stage, makes her way to the ground floor where the audience is, performs around their tables, greets the people, makes her way back to the stage and presents the next legend.
My legend was last.
As I waited, I said a quick prayer asking God to do me a solid and have something take over, something to grab me so I can rightfully represent the ladies, my legend, myself. I needed a quick fix. You would too if you had 2 pairs of spanks on. The previous dancer was finishing which meant my time was coming and the quick fix was nowhere to be seen. There wasn’t a hole in the ground to devour me, and the natural disaster that I was praying to wreak havoc through Chicago at that moment hadn’t occurred. I walked up the stairs, offstage, and, like a volatile basket-case, I shakily waited.
The dancer portraying Nagwa Fouad had finished and the singer sang the lyrics to introduce Fifi Abdou. He looked right at me, grinned from ear-to-ear and smiled. That smile meant: Rak N Roll, you’re gonna be great! As he sang Fifi Abdou, a pop sensation snapped within me and effectively took control of my body. Tunnel vision. I moved the way I rehearsed, I danced the way my director wanted me to, I didn’t hear the music, didn’t hear the cheering or the clapping, didn’t see the cameras flashing, for I was unconditionally focused on benefiting myself, the ladies, the legends, my director, and the audience. Spiritually, I was accompanying the music, performing with a specific condition and successive rhythm. I bowed once I finished.
This psychological effect was entirely heavenly. An out-of-body experience. I can’t explain it.
Humility, ability and skill are needed in the world of dance. Even if the skill is lacking, act as though you yourself created it and demand the attention of the onlookers. It’s important to perform with fulfillment and a conclusion: I will rock tonight! All the hard work that the team has put in together cannot be degenerated or spit upon. It’s a group effort, a relationship amongst the musicians, dancers and the audience. As dancers, there is a valuable importance to enforce ethics in a market such as belly dance, to prevent chaos, to create harmony with the self, and finally, so the audience can feel what the dancer is invigorating.
