My Lucky Belt

I rather surprise myself sometimes. I thought I was easing my way back into performing dance slowly, but obviously I have trouble not jumping in with both feet.

I do believe I just joined another bellydance troupe.Heh, here I go again.

I'll tell you more about it after I figure out exactly what I'm getting into. But there's bound to be jingly costumes involved. That much I can say for sure. :)

Tonight I had so much fun in class.

We practiced a Turkish folk dance, clapping our hands as we danced to that tricky and completely infectious karsilama beat. You can listen to a clip from the Turkish song we danced to ('Romp Rompi') at this link if you like.

We grape-vined and shimmied and swirled our skirts. I learned a version of this dance years ago, so the steps were familiar enough so that I could just enjoy the dance and not worry about the footwork.

That's my lucky belt in the photo above. It's one of my most treasured things and I've had it years and years. I acquired it before I became a belly-dancer in fact. Sparkly things have a pull on me.

The very first belly-dancer I ever saw danced in a little Greek restaurant in my town. I was maybe thirteen or fourteen years old and I was out for dinner with my friend Kim's family. I remember Kim's little brother didn't know where to look.

Myself, I thought the dancer was beautiful and marvellous and wished I could be exotic and mysterious like that.

Years later, in my twenties, I befriended a woman, Linda, who happened to be a bellydance teacher. One day we went to her dancer friend Jackie's house. Her friend was selling some old bellydance gear and that's where I saw and coveted that lucky belt of mine. I had no plans to become a dancer just then, but it was something that called out to me.

To my delight it turned out that Jackie was the very same dancer who captivated me in that Greek restaurant on that long ago evening. What serendipity! It may have even been the same belt as it was one of her favourites.

She made it from South American and Arabian coins, soldering the links together by hand herself. It must have taken a tremendous amount of time and energy. I had no idea at the time what a treasure I had just acquired for a mere fifty dollars.

Not only can items like this cost hundreds of dollars to buy, but it is my belief that this coin- belt inspired me to become a dancer.

I'd always felt a bit awkward. Baby fat, bad at gym, picked last for the sports team, miserable in the one ballet class I attended as a child...

But something this beautiful and unique was mine. It felt marvellous and heavy when I put it on.

It was like a magic item a genie had given me: a talisman that imbued me with coordination and grace. I joined dance class after dance class and learned more and more. The coin-belt shimmied musically, and was joined by other hip-scarfs and coin-belts of all descriptions. I forgot how awkward I was supposed to be.

Now that's fifty dollars well-spent.