4 year olds and belly dancing

There's nothing like starting your day with an über tantrum from your 4 year old. I shared my exasperation with Twitter:

Honestly, there was screaming and gnashing of teeth for well over twenty minutes, because her brother had opened the flavoured straw she was holding. There was another, identical, unopened straw right next to her on the bench. It was, apparently, not an adequate substitute. When the screaming had finally abated, she reluctantly suffered through the identical straw and announced she was coming to belly dancing with me. She was still in her pyjamas and I had to leave in 4 minutes. Again with the totally rational requests. 

To her credit, she hustled and got dressed quickly and we only left ten minutes late. I love belly dancing, and I'd love to share that with Elissa. I tried to take her to some lessons last year, but the study made making it to classes impossible. She was very keen to go back this year, but my teacher didn't seem as relaxed about the idea as last year's teacher had been. So I was feeling more than slightly nervous, bringing my recently screaming banshee of a daughter into the class of a woman who was concerned she might disrupt the rest of the class. However, as 4 year olds are wont to do, she was the picture of delight. She did the stretching exercises with us, played with her toys a bit, and then danced her own dance in the corner until it was time to take off the coin belts. Nobody seemed perturbed, and she got lots of compliments. The relief was palpable. My day was looking up. 

Then we got back to the car park and I remembered the enormous huntsman I'd seen dart inside the front passenger door frame as we'd rushed to make the class on time. Have I mentioned I'm hopelessly arachnophobic? I have been known to call friends to my house to rescue me from spiders at 6am on a Saturday (eternal thanks Cate!). I'm very proud to say that I bought a can of spray from the chemist and dealt with the 8 legged horror (and many of his variably sized compatriots in other hidey holes in the car) on my own. Of course, this last part of the story has nothing to do with the point of this post - the best and worst of 4 year olds, but I felt the need to share. 

I kinda like four. The extremes are exhausting, but amusing too. Watching the bourgeoning capacity for logic, while weathering the episodes of total logic fail. Seeing the desire for independence translate into a real reduction in work for parents weary from a whole year of three. To quote Olivia's mother, Elissa, you really wear me out, but I love you anyway.

What does the path to equality look like?

I went back to belly dancing tonight after all my tedious illness, and among the shimmying and chasseing and belly popping, we watched some YouTube clips of Turkish belly dancers and compared them with Egyptian dancers. There is a huge difference. If you're not familiar with belly dancing, you may not be aware that it is a family of dance rather than a single style, and the variations can be quite dramatic. I've always leaned towards the very traditional Egyptian or the more modern folkloric style - both very earthy and strong. There are also much more flamboyant styles, sexier styles, cabaret styles, balletic styles and so on. My bias has meant that I've watched a lot of Egyptian dancers and not so many others.

Here's Didem, a favourite dancer in Turkey now.

And here's Dina, Egypt's darling at the moment.

Something struck me, watching them. These two are reasonably representative of their countries' styles. Didem is young, very thin, and is contracted exclusively to the TV show she's on in this clip. Her predecessor on the show was apparently shot in the leg when she tried to leave her contract (this has all the researched authority of my belly dance teacher, but even the fact that such a rumour is believed by people says something). Dina is older, and looks very thoroughly in control at all times. She makes no grand entrances, just wanders on to stage and starts dancing when she feels like it. Dina commands respect while Didem commands attention.

And my point was? Egypt is a country where social roles remain quite rigid, both in terms of gender and class. However, the dancers from Egypt are respected for their talent, are regarded as improving with age and are not noticeably objectified. These women, at least the successful ones, are self confident, and seem to own the stage.

Turkey is, by comparison, much more Westernised, and with that, it seems the dancers are much more objectified. There is more freedom for woman to step outside gender and class roles, but at least through the lens of belly dance, they have more obligation to meet beauty standards and play passive sex kitten.

There is more than one path to equality. Rigid gender roles don't necessarily mean an imbalance in respect, although they might. In cultures where women are respected, (like Egyptian dancers) I can understand why they may not want to give that up to come to the place I, as a Westerner am at, where youth, slenderness and big boobs are the main measure of a woman, even if I can choose more ways to live my life. I don't know what the path from such a culture to equality looks like, because I don't live it, but I know they have no obligation to follow a Western lead.

If I was a dancer, I know I'd rather be an Egyptian one than a Turkish one. However, I'm not a dancer and I've worked all my life in male dominated areas, so Turkey may be a better choice for me. And that, finally, is my point. Any interim point along the way will be better for some and worse for others. There's nothing to be gained by judging the other path while standing in the middle of one's own.

That's why I love belly dancing

I took the family to a belly dance hafla today. I was something of an impostor - it was the hafla of a different school from mine, but run by my teacher. I didn't know any of the other students, nor did I know how these things run and caused complete chaos because I didn't know I needed to be there early to get seats for all of us together.

However, when the dancing began, I had three entranced kids, an entranced husband and a wonderful reminder that not every activity requires a society sanctioned body shape. The dancers were fat and skinny, curvy and straight up and down, short and tall, and every physically possible combination. Fat wasn't covered (although flat chests generally get stuffed, due to the shape of the costumes), and straight up and down gals shook their thang with as much style and grace as their curvy counterparts. There was no condescension, there was no "isn't it nice to see a big girl dancing" there was just cheering and shouting and clapping. There were just dancers.

I was too busy kid wrangling and feeling awkward to take photos, unfortunately. Trust me, they were all gorgeous. I'll ask Georgie if I can link to some of her photos once they go up on Facebook.

Oh, yeah, I also danced myself. I was one of eight doing a Shaabi number. Shaabi is the style of dancing done in nightclubs in Egypt, so we were wearing jeans and high heels. (Not so high in my case, but I did dance in heels!) It wasn't the best of performances, but it was fun. I would love to have the time to really get good enough to perform, but lack of natural talent means the time required would be much greater than the time I have available. At least I have a lovely teacher who indulges me despite my inferior skills.

Every Thursday evening I go bellydancing, because I love it and because it's pretty much the only form of dance that someone with no natural talent whatsoever can do with any success. We'll be performing at the Christmas party ("Get your jinglies jangling"), and this is the song we'll be performing to.

Here is the link if you can't see the embedded goodness

I saw our teacher dance to this years and years ago, and I still remember it. There is a lot to be said for dancing to a song that demands that no-one take it seriously. There is even more to be said for it when I shall be doing so the day after Mim's Christmas party....

Belly dancing

I saw this YouTube video at belly dancing tonight, and decided to share. They have disabled embedding, but please click through, she is a beautiful belly dancer. I like this style, gentle and elegant.

Exercise will be had

It's been a year since I've done anything resembling consistent exercise. This is Bad for me. I know, I can feel it. It was time to commit to something and damn the consequences. But if I'm going to get all serious about it, I'm going to have fun too goddamnit. So I decided to go back to belly dancing. I started belly dancing many moons ago in the years BC (Before Children). I took about a year's break when Ben was born, but I went back before I fell pregnant with Charlie. My last term was up to about 6 or 7 months preggers with Charlie, and then I never went back.

I looked up all the schools and decided to go back to the place I was last at, mostly on the basis of timetables. And then I went cap in hand to Crash and asked if I could have a weekly leave pass on a Thursday night. This would not be necessary, but for the fact that the class goes right through dinner, bath and bedtime. I feel guilty about leaving him with it all. For about 35 seconds after I leave the house.

My first class was last Thursday. I can still shimmy. That'd be it really. Oh, and some figure eights. Hip drops are coming back, but lack that automatic, don't think about it quality. It should only take a few weeks to feel vaguely competent I think, but I doubt I'll be back in an intermediate class this year. Still, it is smile inducing, and I am looking forward to the next class which, frankly, shits all over pump classes. :)