Middle Eastern Dance Association

September 2006

In the Encarta the act of smiling is referred to as; “having a pleasant appearance, to appear to be in a state of happiness or enjoying good fortune or pleasure.” Just think about a smile for a moment. Do you ever let your smile be your umbrella? Has good fortune smiled upon you lately or do you smile even though your heart is breaking? A smile is a curious phenomenon. A smile from a stranger passing you on the street can make you feel warm and fuzzy. Quite simply a smile can change your day.

So, where am I going with all this smiling business? I started studying ME dance a couple of decades ago and I keep doing it for a variety of reasons. The main reason I belly dance is because it makes me happy. It makes me smile. Lately, while observing a variety of performances in our ME community I have noticed quite a disparity in relationship to the simple act of smiling. Some dancers plaster on the “perma grin” and keep it there throughout the performance. Other dancers play with the smile, toss one out to the audience and then take it back. I call this the “terra firma smile.” Then there are some performers who prefer the “perma frost” style, that is, not to smile at all.

When I attend a dance performance, I want to be entertained. I try to observe all aspects of the performance. I look at the costume, the lighting, the choreography and the dancer’s interpretation of the music. In and amidst all of this I watch for the expression on the dancer’s face. That expression speaks volumes, it communicates the dancer’s inner world during each moment of that particular performance. Now if the dancer chooses to display the perma grin throughout the entire dance piece, at some point I start to feel somewhat uncomfortable. This constant flashing of the pearly whites makes me wonder, can anyone be having so much fun? I know that dance can be physically demanding at times, even teetering on the edge of pain, so is this something to smile about? When I witness a continuously unwavering grin throughout a performance I tend toward disbelief. Perhaps, this dancer’s smile is a smoke screen for performance anxiety. Or has the mind and body disassociated, and the facial expression is stuck on automatic, while the body struggles to deliver the performance. Is this dancer real or is the perma grin a mask to hide behind? As I sit in the audience and start asking myself these questions, I notice something. I am thinking too much and not experiencing the performance. I am no longer being entertained. Some dancers choose not to exercise their facial muscles at all. The perma frost style or non-smiling has become a popular option for some performers in our ME community. Quite often when I observe this style of performance I notice that my body begins to feel tense. I watch and wait for the slightest crinkle at the corners of the dancer’s mouth. I try to be patient and maintain my attention on the performance, hoping to catch a glimpse of the pearly whites, a shadow of a smile. As I wait I begin to lose focus and my bum wiggles in the seat. Tension continues to build and I want to scream; “OUCH, THIS HURTS!” I came here to be entertained. Toss me a twinkle of a grin to release some of this tension, show me you can still find some joy in the dance. I start to wonder is this performer in a state of fear, deep concentration or trying to be dramatic? Anxiety and over-thinking during a performance can be resolved by simply getting into the music. Dramatic expression is achieved through the dancer’s interpretation of the music. A shift in facial expression mirrors the performer’s intent and shows the audience the dramatic nature of the piece. I sit and wait for the perma frost to thaw. I start to detach and feel bored as there is no connection developed between the audience and the performer. I am no longer being entertained.

When we say the word YES, our lips shift upward into a smile. The word NO turns our mouth into a slight frown.

For me life is dance and dance is life. Sometimes we say yes and sometimes we say no. A dancer who displays the terra firma smile or the “grounded expression” offers an audience a balance between yes and no, life and death, tension and release. The smile is an inexpensive treasure to be mischievously hidden or generously given. When I witness this type of performer I feel endeared, truly connected and included. As an audience member I love a performance that takes me on a journey. The dancer is the guide, the music is the path and the performer’s facial and physical expression is the story. Sometimes the journey is playful and amusing, sad and dramatic, sensual and passionate. The simple smile or lack thereof has a profound role in this type of performance. As an audience member, I feel it and I am not only entertained, I know I am witnessing art in the making. Art is not created by rules like “To Smile or Not to Smile.” This dancer knows that artistry involves the balance between technique and improvisation and that the presence or absence of the simple smile creates dramatic tension or ecstatic release.

For over twenty years during the dog days of summer I go out in my back yard and pick blackberries. Blackberries are tough to pick, you have to avoid the thorns, wasps and spider webs. I have an unwritten rule to combat these hazards. A blackberry picker gets to sample along the way. I picked a berry and popped it into my mouth. I grimaced. It was sour, not ready for picking. The next one was too ripe, too sweet, too mushy. I carried on filling my bowl with berries. One blackberry fell easily into my hand, it was the size of a small plum. I gobbled it up and was instantly filled with profound pleasure. The berry was a perfect balance of the natural elements. It was a gift from the earth, fed by the rain, sweetened by the breeze and ripened in the sun. Simply, it was a work of art…and it made me smile.

May 2006

Hello Beautiful Dancers!

As I write today’s tome, MEDA’s AGM is a few tiny weeks away and I am freshly home from chairing the last meeting of the current MEDA Board of Directors which gave me much food for thought about the future of MEDA and my place in that future.

A quick history (and forgive me, those of you who have heard this a few times already) — when I joined the MEDA board in ‘97, it was as Librarian. At that time, Venus was wearing three of the biggest MEDA hats, as President, Librarian and Sahda Editor. In ‘98, I was persuaded to run for President, since it was “mainly a figurehead position”. (Uh huh. Please remember that this was almost a decade ago, and I am not nearly so gullible *now*. But I *did* use that line to trick my successor into stepping up and it worked like a charm on her too, hee hee hee.) Eventually, I had to quit the Board because life took a nasty turn and I barely had the heart to dance myself, let alone to encourage others. But time passed and wounds healed and I was never completely removed from MEDA — I continued to volunteer and to emcee events, which kept me in contact with all of YOU lovelies. I caught my second wind just as Devorah was getting burned out and a year later here I sit looking back on it all and reflecting on how MEDA continues to grow and evolve.

At its heart MEDA is a volunteer-run tool for communication. Over the past 28 years, thousands upon thousands of volunteer hours have gone into fulfilling the mission statement that, “We foster community involvement and awareness by sponsoring and supporting events and providing services.”

There is one word in that statement that seems to be a lightning rod for debate and controversy:

“supporting”

Our 207 current members range from those who have barely completed their first hip circle to those who have been dancing since before MEDA was even a gleam in our founding Board of Directors’ eyes. We have students, teachers, performers, hobbyists, professionals, musicians, and audience members in our ranks. Their styles are as far-reaching and as shifting as desert sands. So how the heck, you may ask, is MEDA fulfilling the mandate of “supporting” all of those distinct and different members at once? Doesn’t that sound like a Herculean task considering that each of those 207 people may have different views about what “support” means to them?

Let me count the ways . . . .

First, let me acknowledge that MEDA is not the only resource out there to share information and create a sense of dance community. We are a more formal organization than most, as we are a registered Society, complete with a Board of Directors and yearly reports submitted to the Province. We are also NOT a sanctioning or policing body — we do our best to be non-partisan, but if you want to be seen you have to take responsibility for making yourself noticed. For example — Tribal has a monthly presence in Sahda because monthly articles are submitted; Cabaret performers don’t get as much ink because we don’t hear from them — but we’d love to and we have space ready and waiting for when we do!!!

So back to “support” . . . .

I will turn, as I often do in times of conflict, to The Good Book that has shed so much insight on the human condition and how I live my life — my handy-dandy Oxford Mini Dictionary. It tells me that “support” means, among other things, “strengthen; help; encourage”. Under that advisement, I think of what MEDA “support”, via the above “tool for communication” concept, means to the membership in general, and see if we’re providing members with the bang for their buck that they deserve.

Hard-copy support: While the MEDA Board and other volunteers supply the mental and physical energy much of what we provide does require money, thus the need to charge for membership. Of the $30 yearly fee, over $15 goes into the printing and mailing of Sahda, which is obviously of value to you, the member, or you wouldn’t be reading this article! Sahda constantly solicits for contributions of opinion and educational articles — it’s a forum for those of you who have questions to ask or answers to give. Along with the chance to be heard by your peers, Sahda provides free coming events listings, a free Souk page, and a twice-yearly Teachers Listings, plus members (and non-members) can take advantage of the mailout by including their own promotional materials in the Sahda envelope. We do have to charge for that, because extra paper means extra postage, but the advertising rates are still a fraction of what an individual mail-out would cost. Sahda is currently and diligently assembled by Kim Pechet and Sarah Ng, with continued mentorship (and envelope-stuffing and labeling prowess) from Shalazar (Nan Lehto).

Electronic support: Our next tool for communication is the web page. Members have the perk of being able to be on the “Photos” page. Members AND non-members can be listed in “Coming Events” and the “Find A Teacher” pages — all teachers, whether they choose to become MEDA members or not, are valuable within our community and deserve to be acknowledged and promoted. We do list member events and teachers first, as a thank-you for supporting the organization financially, because it’s their membership fees that make the site possible. While MEDA does pay for the web space, it is currently maintained and updated gratis by RJ Garside and Zelia (Nicole Roy). RJ is currently working on a new design and look for the site, to make it easier to navigate and more pleasing to the eye, while Zelia makes sure that the information pages and links are current and effective.

Long-distance educational support: MEDA is also an educational tool. We currently have 3 libraries in British Columbia housing books, magazines, videos, DVD’s, and music, which can be accessed in person or by mail. Again, a small fee is charged to cover postage, but this concentrated and invaluable resource is for the exclusive use of MEDA members, and therefore it is a combination of library revenue and membership fees that go towards the purchase of new library materials. Two branches are on the move — Virginia [Cochran] and Patricia Kroot are Deweying their decimals for the last time this month, after long and dedicated service running the GVRD and Island libraries respectively; Donna and Jeanne-Anne carry on their good work as the most active of the three locations, serving northern communities from their home base in Prince George.

And on top of these resources, MEDA hosts two major yearly events, too!

Supporting our vendors: We had over 700 attendees at this March’s Grande Bazaar — the $5 entry fee for adults ($3 for seniors, kids under 12 for free) was a small price to pay to have access to the largest yearly vending event in our dance community and had the added value of providing almost non-stop performances and demo entertainment to the crowds. The large stage is also a rare opportunity for troupes, giving them more room and better visibility than restaurant hafflas provide.

Performance opportunity support, casual venue: As with MEDA Student Nights, the Grand Bazaar stage is open to all members, without the constraints of having to audition. It is a place for brave souls, works in progress, experiments, and showcases. Our community embraces dancers of varied levels of experience and skill and this is reflected on the Bazaar stage.

Live educational support: Our October workshop and show is a yearly opportunity to bring an international instructor to our community. This used to be a twice-yearly event, but we recognised that many other promoters were bringing in large events, and the best way to support entrepenuers was to not create unnecessary competition.

Supporting our members through subsidy: The Grande Bazaar is also a fund-raising event for MEDA as it allows us to subsidize bringing big-name instructors to our October workshop and show. Different international teachers charge different rates, but MEDA’s rule of thumb is to make workshops available for rates comparable to local teachers — for example, members paid only $120 for 8 hours of Aziza last fall — and that included lunch!!! Devorah (Deb Kerr) is the brains and the brawn behind putting the bazaar and the October workshop together every year with this year’s invaluable aid by Atira (Kathleen Sharp) as volunteer coordinator, Shalazar’s tending to the needs of vendors, and the woman who keeps the MEDA books and coffers in pristine condition; Jeanne Khouri.

Performance opportunity support, professional venue: We also want to provide a professional venue to our local dancers as well as an affordable show for the community, so our yearly stage show ticket prices are only set to cover the cost of the headliner, the venue, and the venue’s staff. Again, we couldn’t make the workshop or show happen without Deb’s organizational skills, the army of volunteers that Atira can mobilize and Jeannie’s accounting wizardry to keep track of registration and ticket sales. Oh yeah, and that yappy redhead Azrakesh does a bit too.

Now that I’ve defined what MEDA does to support the community, let me briefly explain our limitations:

We are a volunteer-run organization and as such we have finite time and resources to offer this artform. That means, like you, Board members have limited belly dance budgets and, like you, we make individual choices that support our personal journies with this dance — and sometimes that means attendng a class instead of a performance or spending a weekend with family instead of at a workshop.

We continue to refine MEDA policy so that it provides a level playing field for everyone. We do not provide free ads beyond the text-only space available in Sahda and on the web page because we don’t want to create conflicts about favouritism.

We represent our members to the best of our abilities, but again, if you want to be heard you have to speak. Dance is evolving, dancers are evolving and for MEDA to evolve we need the input of community-minded people who not only bring new ideas, but who are willing to devote the time and energy to bring those ideas to fruition.

By the time you read this the AGM may have come and gone and I may or may not still be MEDA’s “figurehead” — but if my work on the Board this year has any legacy, let it be this:

To you who have contributed your time, your enthusiasm and your optimism and humour to MEDA this past year, I sincerely thank you. And to those who still feel that MEDA is not meeting its mandate of “supporting” you, please use this coming year to stand up and be counted — by volunteering on the Board and at events, by contributing letters and articles to Sahda, by submitting your information to be posted on the web page, by dancing at MEDA events, by making specific suggestions about how MEDA can improve, and being prepared to put in the work to actualize those improvements. MEDA is not a faceless entity. It is made up of people, like you, who love dance — until the AGM, it is me and Deb and Kim and Sarah and Nan and RJ and Nicole and Kathleen and Jeannie and Virginia and Donna and Jeanne-Anne and Tonje and Amanda and Jenny.

Remember — if you’re not part of the solution, you are part of the problem.

Striving to be my part of the solution,

<Azrakesh>

April 2007

Tamalyn Dallal is a dream come true! An accomplished artist with perennial grace and technical prowess, she is also a sentient human being with deep-seated values and unsurmountable character. I have encountered many famous Belly Dancers and performers over the years, but in Tamalyn, I found a truly kindred spirit.

Tamalyn’s dancing is like manna, a gift from the gods. The emphasis she puts on the subtleties is, in my opinion, what makes her choreographies so hypnotic and the sincerity with which she performs is what leaves her audience breathless.

When MEDA decided to host a free workshop for our members, our Membership Secretary Shalazar suggested Tamalyn and I immediately cried out, “Yes!” Through the combined efforts of the entire MEDA board (in particular our Special Events’ Coordinator Devorah) we made it a reality.

The night before the workshop, I took Tamalyn out for dinner. We went to “Simba’s Grill”, a lovely East African restaurant in downtown Vancouver. We delighted in the eclectic decor and enjoyed practicing our Swahili with the Kenyan owner. We chatted at great length and the evening was over far too soon.

Tamalyn is as intelligent as she is sweet. She is a member of MENSA, yet a humble and approachable woman of impeccable talent and infinite wisdom. Although she has never bore children, she is indeed a mother. She fostered two Latin American girls throughout their teenaged years (one is now a professional Belly Dancer too) and years ago, she struggled to adopt Oscar, a 13 year-old street boy in Colombia. She was, however, forbidden to take him out of the country because she was “too young” and “unwed”, or so the authorities said. Oscar has since disappeared. In a country where street children are kidnapped, killed and sold for their vital organs, the thought of what might have happened to him is devastating.

Tamalyn and I are “Colombian sisters”. We both spent ample time in Colombia (particularly Bogota). Between anecdotes she shared with me and through reading accounts in her novel “They Told Me I Couldn’t”, I discovered that we have experienced many similar adventures and situations. Some include; being face-to-face with guns and mafioso, dealing with unruly men drunk on aguardiente, riding on dilapidated buses with chickens, befriending gamines (street children), having people tell us “you can’t”, but having the courage to do it anyways.

Tamalyn is the youngest of 5 children and I am the youngest of 4. We both speak several languages, we both love to Belly Dance, we both thrive on travelling, and we both want to save the world!

We also have in common trips to; Guatemala, where we scaled the Mayan ruins of Tikal; Cuba, where we unearthed the profound intelligence (and sheer desperation) of the Cuban people, and, more recently; Tanzania (Tamalyn on the island of Zanzibar and I on the mainland), where we relished the warmth of the locals, the rich diversity of their music and the wonderful taste of ugali.

The day after the workshop I took Tamalyn out to sight-see. I decided that the Capilano Suspension Bridge would be an ideal place to visit and she agreed. Whilst driving there, we chatted endlessly. I even helped her come up with the title for her next instructional dvd. (You will have to wait until it’s released to find out what it is.) She immediately called her producer and gave him the good news.

Although a brave traveler and a seasoned performer (having danced on countless occasions for celebrities and crowds in the thousands), Tamalyn was too frightened to cross the Capilano Suspension Bridge. I was suprised, but endeared. (It never even occurred to me that she might not like to cross.) It merely shows that we all have our fears, even the invincible Tamalyn Dallal!

A former Belly Dance Superstar, a writer, a linguist, a globe-trotter, and a humanitarian, Tamalyn is one person that I am extremely glad to have met. I hope that MEDA has the opportunity to bring her back to Vancouver and that she and I will be friends for many, many years to come.