So I have been pondering were to start these stories that will be my blog. As i have both stories from the past I want to share, as new and recent experiences. The past stories will lead me to include questions for todays dancers, and the present stories have questions for the future for you and for myself.
But feel free to comment on all of course.
So for today, I thought i'd start by going back about fifteen years. No, no, no, not to my very first bellydance steps, that would be reaching even further back in time (more than 20 years ago, gulp!) but to one of my first "professional" solo gigs. I honnestly can't remember if this was thé first one.
My teacher at the time, Amana from Antwerp, had booked in a gig for a party of a football team and their families, with a lot of Middle Eastern people, near Brussels. And I was send to do it! I was very very very nervous as the set up was a little strange! The patrons of the party were told beforehand that they HAD to tip me, and I would need to count all the tips afterwards in the dressing room, and the organiser would make sure that I made our standard fee, and would top it up if I had not. Weird, and I have never accepted anything like that since.
So anyway, I arrive and .... it will be no surprise to any seasoned dancer, but it was to me ... there was of course nowhere for me to get changed. I had to get in and out of costume in a sort of garage/fridge/pantry, with waiters walking in and out. and it was cold there! I learned to always bring a sweater, something to stand on, and slippers!
I did not yet have a dance name then. But apparantly the organisers had told Amana that my very non exotic real name would NOT do, so she decided I would be "Aisha", for the time being. It ended up being for just the evening. And so this story tells you why I do not have an Arabic dance name today.
I was announced as "Aisha", and as soon as I come out on the dance floor I heard sniggering. That would not stop through out my three sets, which each newcomer to the party being told who i was. 90% of the audience was of Middle Eastern decent, and they could not believe their eyes or ears: a BLOND Aisha, how funny. Haha, a blond Aisha! It went around the room leading to repeated fits of laughter. I wasn't just blond, but also very young, and very very white.
It is funny now, but my barely legal self was mortified. That was it. No Arabic name for me. Ever! No matter what teacher or anyone else wanted! The rest of the story of how the name Artemisia came about, will be for another time.
The dancing went well. Having accompanied my teacher to several gigs in the past, and having danced at professional gigs with her, I was well prepared by her and I did know more or less what to expect. But this was my first Middle Eastern audience. And having people clapping and singing along the whole time, even with songs where I had chosen the instrumental version, was new to me. The music was obviously such a big part of the act for them, not just my dancing, but being happy with the songs I had chosen, and REALLY getting into them. A nice surprise I really have only ever had with the very few gigs for Middle Eastern audiences we get in this country!
But then, the dreaded tipping...... I was not so keen on the system the organiser had insisted on. But hey, teacher had said yes, so so did I. I was very scared. And it must have shown on my face big time. When the first guy, an elderly moroccan man approached me, I must have pulled a face. Because he wispered "don't worry, I will not touch you". And he managed getting the tip in my bra strap without indeed touching me. It went ok, and I learned quickly to have fun with the whole tipping process. Dancing away, making a game out of it, with people that knew how to behave.
Till the end of my last set that is.Then a non middle eastern, but local, white, and rather drunk man, reallly did not know how to behave and how to tip in a "decent" way. He kept trying to shove a note down my bra, and I kept dancing and ducking away. Luckily my driver for the evening (a fellow dancer) was there. That just made me feel safer. And also luckily the rest of the audience had seen my concern and put the guy back down in his chair.
It was an adventure! I was gratefull to my teacher for this opportunity, but also for the preparation I had had beforehand, through going to her gigs with her (sometimes dancing sometimes not).I was informed about what music to choose, how to put a good set together... and I was forewarned about what to do with audience members not respecting my personal space. So it all went rather well!
But I am no Aisha!
And I would love to hear from others who also do not have an Arabic dance name, how that came about!
Artemisia
Ps, Want to know what I looked like then? Some pictures will acompany another story soon! I am also working out how to transfer some old video footage onto dvd!
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