Alexandrian Dancers Aida and Dandash

"Because I love it." I had asked Aida why she danced…

Aida Nour pushes a motif design over to one of her four workers in the sewing room of her atelier. There is a wedding in the apartment next door, we hear strains of Ya Della a Rachide competing with zagareets. "I understand song. Oriental dance is not the same as folkloric dance, but it is the same technique. To dance is to be happy, to make a party for everyone." She tells me "This dance, like cinema and theatre is international, but it is only here in Egypt where people come to learn choreography, buy costumes and then they go back to teach."

"Tomorrow I go to a Zaar," Aida sews golden beads onto a black and orange dance costume. "It is good for relaxation." A zaar is a private event where a group of women hire musicians to play zaar music that leads to trance dance that exorcises stress, worries, fears or any other devil that may be bothering the dancers.

A delivery of silver and blue beads and crystal decoration arrives and we drink thick strong coffee while she sorts through them. "Egyptian dance is for women. Any girl, when you put on the costume, you feel like a lady. This dance is not exactly for nice girls, but all Egyptians dance. This dance is special for girls; it is like the Nile, it is in the veins."

Aida started dancing at the age of 14 years, she saw Farida Fahmy dance in Mahmoud Redas first film and was captivated. In her own words "I like Farida Fahmy and I like the folkloric dance too much." Aida tells me that Mahmoud Reda did something new for oriental dance, he changed it, he innovated dance and created the folkloric tradition. Raqia Hassan was also a Reda dancer, as is Randa Kamel (who currently dances on the Marriott Maxime).

Aida's father, a retired army officer took her along to the Alexandrian Folkloric Troupe where she trained for 6 years. Aida then danced with the Reda Folkloric Troupe for 7 years. During the oil boom of the 1980s she worked in the Gulf in Abu Dhabi and Dubai for three years. There she earned good money and got a name for herself as a dancer. When she returned to Alexandria she could then afford good musicians and good costumes. Aida danced in the Sheraton Montaza and the San Giovanni until the manager of the Marriott spotted her and gave her a contract to dance in Cairo with Saha Hamdy.

Aida danced in the cabaret clubs of Haram Street and in the five star hotels for 22 years with her peers Nagua Fouad, Isa Sheriff, Sohair Zaki, Fifi Abdou and Nelly Fouad. She retired from the stage 7 years ago to run her costume atelier (she made all her own stage costumes) and to teach dance.

I had the good fortune to see Aida dance informally at a party. She is a graceful, accomplished and juicy dancer. Her style is versatile and beautifully balanced. Aida has a powerful presence that is dignified and a joy to watch.

Dandash arrives with her torn costumes to be fixed after the wear and tear of dancing. Recently, she has been ordering a new costume every 10 days from Aida's Atelier. Over another small cup coffee Dandash tells me why she dances. "Oriental dance is for all people, rich, medium and small people. In the profession you dance for all the people, you reach all the people you can, any kind of people." Aida says "Dandash is so popular because she loves the dance and it shows. She did not learn technique from anybody - she learnt from feeling."

Currently, Dandash dances three times a night at the Sheherazad, Andalous and Pyramids clubs. During the busy summer season she may dance up to 10 times in one night including parties and weddings. Dandash is arguably the busiest dancer in Cairo, her self taught Alexandrian style is a very composed mesmerizing skill of small movements both intricate and self contained and punctuated with lightening moments of humour with an impeccable rhythm. Money showers the stage. I have waited in nearly empty clubs that fill 20 mins before Dandash is due to dance.

Dandash comes from a family of Alexandrian entertainers. Her father, mother and sister are all singers, and although she has a beautiful singing voice, dance was her main love. Dandash started her dance career with her family at the age of 6 years. She worked successfully in Alexandria for many years, then during the quiet winter season decided to go to Cairo and for 12 years has not looked back. Her husband is an accomplished org player.

A male singer drops in to have a chat. He has just come from an engagement in Sharm el Sheik, and we all discuss the future of oriental dance in Egypt. It seems that although many of the five star hotels are closing their clubs and creating discos, the clubs in Haram Street are still open. He concludes: "The five star hotels are for tourists and the tourists are not coming. This is a difficult time for all countries. After this time passes, it (oriental dance) will grow again. Oriental dance is not finished for Egypt."

Many of the foreign dancers in Cairo have told me that it is difficult for them to get much work, that there is not so much work and there are so many papers and documents that are necessary. These documents often get held up by bureaucrats. Also, these dancers are often at the mercy of impresarios who take a large portion of a dancer's wages to ensure they get work. On mentioning this to Aida, she put down her needle, looked at me over her glasses and said, "The life of a dancer is not difficult, I have 3 houses and a car and a son and a family".

Drums and mizmar from the party next door renewed the wedding zaffer. Aida's cutter, motif designer and embroidery women cleared up their work and prepared to leave.

I asked Aida and Dandash a final question, a request of a message for those who want to learn to dance. After a thoughtful and voluble discussion, Aida translated, "For all the life, love Egypt like you love oriental dance, then you will dance very well."

As Aida drove me back to Agouza through the active, busy night air of Haram Street, we passed many of the clubs she danced in 15 years ago, clubs that Dandash dances in today. I reflect on the respect and friendship between these Alexandrian women and my heart is glad that the tradition of the dance lives on.

If any teachers are interested in hosting a workshop with Aida Nour and/or Dandash please let me know. It would be good to bring them to Britain for a dance workshop tour. If you wish to order costumes from Aida's Atelier, then please contact Terri at 020 8530 2732 for details.

I Dream of Cairo

When I started dancing 5 years ago, I started learning about the origins of the dance. Anything you take up as passionately as I took up this art form makes you want to visit its place of origin to try to really understand it. Well, I didn't know when it would happen, but this year I finally realized my dream of Cairo.

I took a trip with Baladi Cairo dance holidays, run by Terri Hardy of London. What a fantastic adventure we had! We rode camels, went to parties, saw some of the top dancers in Egypt and took lessons from some living legends. I will never forget this trip and I hope to repeat it again soon.

Arriving was so magical…partly because I took a connection flight to get there and was delayed from arriving until 6am. I think sleep deprivation gave things a surreal quality. Driving to the hotel while the sun was rising really added to the picture. I didn't expect Cairo to be so diverse. It was part 3rd world country, part metropolis, part ancient and beautiful culture.

Our first day was easy, thankfully. Terri showed us some of the movements the top dancers like to use so we would be better prepared for our workshops with them. Very interesting and quite helpful later on. That night we saw the whirling dervishes at Muhammed Ali mosque, a training center for those who wish to work in mosques. What fantastic construction! It was a perfect setting for the show. First are the musicians, and although they favored modern customizations of their instruments (like lime green and hot pink tablas) they were some of the best musicians I've had the privilege to see in performance. Everyone had their solos, and I was totally captivated.

After the initial musical performance, some new musicians came on stage and the ones who had played previously started doing some choreography. They were joined by a single whirling dervish. Their skirts are layered and tied to a bodice, so when they want to do tricks with one skirt, they untie it and let it spin low, spin high, spin on its side, and many other tricks ensue. I tranced out for awhile with the first dancer. He was so centered and calm.

When he finished, there was another musical interlude, then we got a trio of whirlers. They played with the spaces between each other with their skirts. Such color and motion…and strength! Those skirts are weighted so they will move properly, and to see these men whirling them above their heads for 45 minutes is quite a sight.

Afterwards we went to the restaurant across from the hotel that sits on the Nile (our hotel had balconies for every room, each looking out over the river). We had some good food and smoked some apple tobacco in the hookahs. We watched the wedding boats on the river go by with their cargo of men dancing and celebrating.

The sounds of Cairo are quite distinct-lots of honking. They use their car horns to signal to each other their intentions. One beep means "I'm coming through." Two beeps means "I'm coming through and I won't stop for you." And so it goes up the scale. So generally there is quite a friendly cacophony going on. Driving in Cairo looks like it would take a lot of training and skill since no one uses stop signs, lights, or lines on the street. People just weave in and out and go where they will with no discernable organization. They don't seem to have accidents, though. It probably helps that drunk drivers aren't part of the equation as alcohol isn't really available.

The next day was shopping at Khan El Khalili, which is a HUGE shopping bazaar. When you go outside Cairo, you'll see many shops with the name Khan El Khalili, and when we asked about that we were told they were advertising that their goods came from that market. I think anything you want to buy in Cairo is represented somewhere in the Khan. Costumes, perfumes, clothes, hookahs, instruments, knick knacks, everything!

We started at Mahmoud's for costumes. Three floors of costumes, canes, zills, hip scarves, jewelry, candelabra, and more. I've never seen anything like it. The costumes we buy in America are created here by some exquisitely talented seamstresses, and when we bought our costumes the seamstress who had created it came to custom fit it for you. I'm not sure if this is something Terri arranged or if it's customarily part of Mahmoud's services, but I was very impressed. We even got to see some new creations from one of the ladies. Yummy! Next we went to a perfumier for essential oils, lovely perfume bottles, and beautiful inlaid mother-of-pearl boxes. I wasn't intending to buy anything there and ended up with an armful of goods and gifts.

That night we saw Suraya, a Brazilian dancer who has been in Cairo for 6 months. She is training at the Reda school right now and she did a great show. Four costume changes and no belly cover for 2 of those. Her arms were incredibly graceful and natural, and her movement was precise and lovely with lots of level changes.

Our third day began with me teaching a zill class (zill is Turkish and sagat is Egyptian so call them what you will) and that went very well. Next we got a real treat from a bad beginning-Aida Nour was teaching us and she had hurt her back, so she asked the manager of the Reda troupe to help assist her. Terri says that never happens for anyone, so we were very honored. I thoroughly enjoyed the choreography we worked on. Her style was beautiful and fluid.

After that we had a class from Dandash, who is an Alexandrian dancer performing in one of the Cabaret clubs in Cairo. She shimmies on top of every single movement, which is wonderful to watch and for me was really hard to do. Some of the dancers identified strongly with her teaching, but her style was really foreign to me. That's why this was such a great experience. With 5 different teachers, there were a lot of different styles represented, so for each dancer there was at least one teacher whose style really worked for them.

Next we had a video party at Samarsen's house. She is a Swedish dancer who has been in Cairo since the 70's, and her style is said to be the essence of Cairo style. She is not dancing any longer as of this writing, but rumour has it she may go back to it again soon. She told us some of the history of the dance scene in Cairo. She showed us videos of Dina, Lucy, Aida Nour and many others while she talked. We learned that several of the clubs in Cairo had been burned down numerous times over the years for political reasons, and that tipping is allowed (the shower of money), pictures only in some cases, and belly covers depend on where you dance, how much risk you're willing to take, and if anyone wants to give you trouble.

We left Samarsen's to see Dandash perform at the club. She was wearing 2 of Aida Nour's new creations, and she is dazzling to watch. Such precision with all that shimmying on top. The stillness in the dancer's movements here is something I keep marveling at and really want to learn.

Our next day we had class with Randa Kamal, an Egyptian dancer who works in one of the Cabaret clubs. She brought a drummer with her, and I completely loved her style. Her drummer was really encouraging to all the girls, so we all had lots of fun with her class. She is reputed to have the biggest shimmy in Egypt, and after 10 minutes of her big shimmy, I believe it. Whew!

Next was the dinner cruise on the Nile and a show with Liza Laziza. A lot of tourists go on the boats, so they are really posh and beautiful. Liza does a little bit of everything in her show-zills, she plays a little drum, she dances on the drum, balances the cane all over, and even does some khaleegy. Her costumes were marvelous, but it was really hard to see because the boat is all on one level. Everyone who wants to film and take pictures gets in front of the stage, so your vision is quite limited unless you find a good spot up front on the side.

In between shows Aida Nour took us to a riverboat café (yes, a café on a boat in the Nile) and we had some juice and smoked some cherry shisha. It was a lovely break and I was fascinated to listen to her talk about her connection with the Nile and the area. She says she won't live anywhere else, and why would any of us?

Next we went to the Intercontinental hotel to see Dina. She dances on a little strip on the front of the stage because her 21 piece orchestra takes up most of the stage. She is definently fit-her abs looked like something off an exercise video-and the abundance of her bosom is well displayed. She really is someone you have to see in person because she plays the crowd so well. Her costumes were all to die for, even the camouflage number. Diamante everywhere, and none of them covered anything. You could see right up her skirt for the first costume, but she was wearing flesh colored tights or panties or something. I knew her costumes were brief, but I didn't know they were THAT brief. She is a masterful entertainer.

The next day was our trip to the pyramids. Tourists, hawkers, and student groups were everywhere, and around each corner was someone with a horse or a camel asking if you wanted a ride. From what we were told, that's not a safe bet, so we all refused, but if you get points for persistence, there were some top scorers there. To get into the big pyramids or the Sphinx, the waiting list is REALLY long-they only allow in 200 people per day-and the price is quite dear. We opted for looking inside the smaller pyramids and temples instead. It was a challenge to get into some of them as we had to back down makeshift ladders and flatten ourselves because the ceilings were so low, but it was a fun adventure. Inside some of them were so plain-no recognizable "graves", no markings, nothing. Others were really complex with several rooms and carvings on almost every surface. The whole time we were there a great sandstorm was going on, creating wild designs in the air out in the desert.

After the pyramids we were off to the stables for our camel ride. I got an astrology reading from one of Terri's friends who lives down the road from the stables, and that was really interesting. I joined up with the others just in time to head out into the desert and watch the sun set over the pyramids while we experienced the motion of the camels. What a sight that was! Just like picture postcards, even with the high winds.

Next was our rooftop party back at the stables. A dancing horse was brought out and did a little show for us. They compete professionally with these horses, so that was a real treat. Then we had some great local food, more apple shishas, a nice little bonfire, and some good company. There was talk of music and dancing, but we were all pretty pooped.

We've made it to Friday! Now is the Cairo Museum, and it seemed like half of Cairo was there. Lots of crowds surging all around you. We saw Tutankhamen's exhibit and jewelry display, and although I expected the jewelry to be bright and shiny, it wasn't but I was still impressed. Lots of detail to the best loved pieces.

After that was a workshop with Samarsen that was pure joy. She moves like a cat and has the presence of a queen with the personality of a gracious hostess. I had gotten relatively ill, so I laid on the floor to watch (much to my dismay) but next time I'm going to participate in her workshop if it kills me.

Then there was a party at Liza Laziza's apartment. She was all decked out in a magnificent dress, and all sorts of lovely people were there. Political figures, media people, teachers, dancers, artists…it was a great crowd. She had lots of wonderful food for us, an open bar, and a band came to play for us. The musicians were really great and Liza performed for the crowd, as did Deyana who is a French dancer living in Cairo and teaching at present. Terri also took her turn, as did some of our students on the holiday, but I can't say much about any of it as I spent most of the party in a back bedroom dealing with my illness. I enjoyed listening to the music, at least.

Those who were able (myself not included) went to Randa's show after the party. They tell me she was worth waiting for, as she was the last dancer our group was to see in the clubs.

Saturday was really for tying up the loose ends: picking up costumes that had been altered at Mahmoud's, getting the last "things you had to have" from the Khan, and anything else left undone. There was a felucca ride on the Nile, but it was short due to the rather cold wind that persisted for most of the trip. Some girls had scheduled private lessons with Liza for that day as well.

I was sad to leave, but what a great experience it was! I'm definently going back someday, and as Terri and Baladi Cairo Dance Holidays made it such a phenomenal experience, that's how I want to go back. She got us in to see all the top dancers, even though it's not always easy to find out where they're performing and when, she organized all those wonderful excursions, made sure we got good quality merchandise from fair vendors, and made sure we got to do everything we asked for and even more. I highly recommend taking this trip with her.

Baladi Cairo Reviews

I was ready not to like Cairo as friends who (had) been there on Nile Cruise package holidays had warned me Cairo was dirty, dusty, and I could expect hassles from hawkers and beggars. It was dusty, but thanks to your and Liza's tips on what to expect and how to deal with everyday things including taxi drivers, there were no problems we couldn't handle. In fact, I found the locals extremely friendly and (the) city fascinating.

Dancers, teachers, (and) musicians made us so welcome...was this because we shared a common love of the music and dance? They seemed genuinely excited that we had taken such an interest in their art. We were just ordinary English women who like to shake our hips and try to dance but love the music.

The intensity of the week left me reeling. Cairo has the population of the whole of Australia in one sprawling, chaotic city that never sleeps. Pounding traffic, pulsing music, and shocking contrasts of ostentatious wealth next to grinding poverty were the backdrop to an exhilarating whirl of dance, talk, more dance, and more talk. Three months on (and) I'm still piecing together what I learned from Baladi Cairo.

Spending time informally with professional dancers was fascinating, and getting their help in choosing the latest music was an unexpected treat. In just one week it was hard to get a true picture of how the dance and its performers are perceived in Cairo today, but I certainly have more idea now of the complexity of the situation. On the one hand, (there are) dancers who have developed into rich and powerful business women. On the other, well-known dancers (are) still having to conceal their profession from their neighbours.

The place of music in Cairo life seemed a little more straightforward. Music seemed to BE Cairo life. Drifting off to sleep to the sound of the tabla playing in the neighbouring restaurant soon started to feel like normality, and there seemed to be a wedding party every night on every corner, each with live music at its heart. The opportunity to see so many live musicians and to dance with some of them at parties felt (like) a real privilege. Seeing zagat played as a solo instrument of great subtlety was new to me, and the power of the Sufi musicians at the mosque was worth the trip alone.

The workshops were not what I expected. All the dancers put great emphasis on the clarity and preciseness of each movement and concentrated very strongly on high standards of technique. In common with many British women, my biggest challenge in learning the dance has been to develop a relaxed posture, a flowing style, an ability to feel and interpret the music. Most teaching I have experienced at intermediate level in this country concentrates on these aspects of the dance, and for very good reason. Maybe Cairo-based dancers take these abilities as a given and do not usually face these needs in their students? Anyway, it was really helpful to work intensively on technique for a change, although some of the technique was a bit unexpected, not to say startling, to those of us from a strongly Raqs Sharqi Society background.

The overlap in style and technique was far, far greater than the difference though, and it was easy to go with the flow, noting the moves that were new to me for future contemplation while working hard on improving the ones I thought I already knew. The four very intensive workshops moved my dancing on immeasurably, and the straight legs/locked knees debate continues...

One thing that came over very clearly in the workshops and performances was the tremendous difference a knowledge of the Arabic language makes when dancing to music with words. Although we all need to be able to interpret the emotions we hear expressed in a piece of music, the Arabic speaking dancers were obviously able to go far beyond that. They often added subtle gestures and expressions to emphasize particularly poetic or meaningful phrases in the songs that were completely closed to the rest of us. Arabic speaking dancers seem to be in great demand in Cairo, and it was easy to see why.

As a dance experience, Baladi Cairo was invaluable. Seeing the dance in its natural home, glimpsing its past and present, however fleetingly and incompletely, gave a perspective I don't think I could have gotten any other way.

Terri obviously knew it was going to blow our minds and had taken great care to provide a calm base to absorb it all. A dance studio outside your bedroom door certainly helps the flagging dancer, as does an unlimited supply of fruit and chilled water. And a hotel overlooking the serenity of the Nile is pretty special too...

Sex and Sensuality

While it is true that most of our society's solo dances are of the exotic genre and many of us were brought up on Benny Hill and Carry On films, there are also men who honour and understand womanly sexuality as well as oriental dance as a female solo art form.

As the laptop was booting up, I considered the narrow range of socially acceptable sexual expression in our society: the abysmal TV porn with its cold detached sexual machinations, and the supermodels' joyless striding with masculine assurance down the cat walk.

When sexual expression is cold and without joy, it is separate from ourselves; when there is generosity and warmth of expression, then the response of the heart is required. I thought also of Marilyn Monroe, Mae West, Gina Lolabrigida, Sophia Loren and other rounded women.

I am talking about the encompassing that is loved by children and adults, which is a celebration of female sexuality and sensuality that is inherent in all women and men and shared and enjoyed by all in the home and in public performance.

Some years ago, I stayed with a family in Helwan in Cairo and became as a daughter; when men came to the house, I joined with the other women behind the curtain. During the day we cooked a lot; there was plenty of gossip I did not understand and also plenty of warm Coke. During the times of dancing, we laughed a lot and teased each other; the younger ones were shown a sexual move through the dance with earthy humour by the grandmothers--not of course to be danced publicly. What a sweet education. These women relished their big bosoms and wobbling hips.

More recently I spoke to an educated Egyptian woman who had a French governess and did not know how to dance because she never was allowed to as a child. She watched her grandchildren with their arms in the air and hips wildly waving and smiled with a little sadness.

Asmahan is a professional Raqs Sharqi dancer who has worked in clubs with Mona Said, Nilly Fouad, Sahar Hamdi, Zizi Mustafa and many more. From her perspective she observes the culture and how she sees the dance functions in the Middle East.

"When I arrived in London to perform in the clubs and saw the dancers from Egypt on the stage, it was a revelation to me just how sexy they were. In San Francisco we did a more historical and ethereally romantic style of femininity. Even though I did outrageous floor work, which to this day makes me blush, it was acrobatic and very artistic. The ME dancers were so comfortable with their sexuality; it was fun and they were directing it to women as well. They would go to tables and joke with everyone. There were times in the taksims (solo instrument) when the dancers would be very serious and even spiritual as if they were ancient priestesses in the Temple of Isis acting out a religious ceremony. The music and body vibrations were mesmerising and as the dancer and musicians interacted in the passionate improvisations on Baladi it was impossible not to be impressed by the skill of the artists taking a journey through musical and movement possibilities.

All dance is expressing sexuality, whether it is ballet, flamenco, tango, lambada, jive or the waltz. Belly dancing is thought of as the most sexy of all dances and as Middle Eastern Dancers we are going to have to deal with this baggage. It is important not to exaggerate this fact or to diminish it. Each woman must find her own expression of femininity in her style of dance, her costume and the image that she creates. Each dancer reveals her inner character when she performs. I have always said there are not secrets on stage; if you look deeply, the dancer is revealing her soul."

Samarsen is the first non Egyptian to become famous in Cairo as an Oriental dancer; she has worked alongside the famous dancers in all the clubs and five star hotels of Cairo. She still lives and works in Egypt. "To understand this dance, you have to understand the role of the dancer in the oriental world. The more the dancer expresses feeling in a confident and womanly sexuality, the more the ME women understand that she is making a communication through men and women. To show a sexuality and femininity is to make connections between people in a country where there is no couple dance. The dancer is a bridge on stage--that is why there is not jealousy when the husband is watching a dancer." Samarsen sees the dancer's duty as letting off steam for the audience, and this is done in a safe and comfortable way. "The dancer has love for her audience and shows it on stage with humour. She has a generous sexuality that encompasses everybody with humour so it feels nice to watch her.

The successful dancer makes this connection in a non threatening way without vulgarity. Sometimes the dancer has a motherly energy too. Egyptian men would not put money in the dancer's belt or bra because they know that that is not the way to treat a dancer."

Even so, the dancer is not generally accepted socially in the Middle East by many families; she carries a stigma not unlike that the actresses had in the Western world at the turn of the century. After all, who are 'these women' who move sensually with their hips in beautiful costumes in public?

These women are you and me and the doctor, solicitor, mother, the administrator, the computer programmer, the sales representative, the accountant, the carer, the air hostess, the psychotherapist, and the nurse to name but a few. Look around to your co-dancers, your teachers, your students, the great dancers of today and yesterday. What different lives we all lead, coming together irrespective of age, shape, or culture to share and to learn.

What is the pull of this dance, why do we love it so? Is it because we give ourselves a new expression? Do we find a part of ourselves that has been lost? Of course we do. What is that part we desire to regain? For all of us it is different, yet the same.

I have asked many women why they dance. For some it is a spiritual journey, a healing journey, for others it is about self expression, some take it only for exercise and others because they love to dance and want to become dancers. Almost every woman said that she wanted to share the dance and to bring joy and that she found another way of self expression. In sharing the dance, we share part of ourselves; there is no hiding behind assumed posturing--doing that is apt to bore the audience.

When we dance, we move from the hips; it is an expression of our life force, our serpent energy, our kundalini, our individual sexual energy. There is a sacred mystery in this dance form, a sexual power, receptive, creative female power of the womb, the power of blood and birth and death. Sex is a sacred mystery that we are kept from by clinical vulgarity in a society that does not require feeling and emotion. When we dance with generous sexuality and with love and truth, we are reclaiming something for ourselves and those we share our dance with that has been lost for centuries. Look for yourself for the link between sexuality and spirit, life force and self expression.

"There is something very powerful in believing we are connected with Spirit or a form of energy, Goddess, God, consciousness, or intelligence, call it what you will, and when believed it somehow heals us. Dancing has traditionally always been an invitation to Spirit to come into our body." Frank Natale, Trance Dancing

There is also an undeniable cathartic role in the dance--how can there not be when we are moving our body in certain ways? A physical healing of the body takes place, the posture improves, there is more fluidity and grace, muscles release memory. Our perception of ourself changes. If there was not such a role, then yoga, pilates, trance dance, etc. would be a waste of time. There is a finding of femininity of woman and a discovery of sexiness in women that that we did not know we had or had lost along the way. Creating a more rounded womanly expression in ourselves is inherently healing. This dance, it is a great teacher.

Remember those first shy awkward movements, the first attempt at hip drop, how tender and vulnerable we made ourselves, how strong we can become. Is it the reclaiming of female sexual expression that drives us on this journey? However, we choose to express this solo female art form, with designer costumes, glamour, beauty, asexual clothing or personalised gypsy outfit, whether it is learnt from Cairo or your local teacher it does not matter as long as what you are dancing suits you and you can find truth. Honour yourself and your teachers. Honour also the dancers of Egypt.

What we offer in terms of our sexuality as dancers is dangerous, not because it is sexy in terms of titilation and lasciviousness, but because it is the expression of the individual, stepping out of the norm, away from the accepted and emotionally safe overplayed images of sex. When we are in our power as woman, primal, female and sexual, we challenge how women are viewed in society. Most love this expression and some are threatened by it. When we stand up to dance, we have to be ourselves. We express the natural inheritance of our ancestors, as women, not as sex objects but as individuals with the right to be strong, powerful, beautiful, graceful and sexual.

"a dance such as belly dance, is carried by women's sexual force, life experience and self confidence will always raise objections and discussions, at least until such time when feminine wisdom and maturity are fully accepted and seen as an existential balance to masculinity and a pre condition for harmony on earth" Rozina Fazia Al Rawi, Belly Dancing

Serafina Dance: A Profile of Terri Hardy

"I always loved dancing. I was desperate to dance and any dance would do. I flirted with Scottish, country, African, rock and roll, modern dance, etc. Then I went to Cairo when I was twenty. My flight was delayed so I stopped off in a hotel in Heliopolis. I was struck by the strength and beauty of a dancer who was moving in a way I had never seen before; my body understood what my mind could not. Oriental dance had cast its spell. The dancer was Fifi Abdo."

Terri returned to London and searched for dancers, but those she came across did not inspire her. After going from teacher to teacher, she found some videos and learned some basic movements and was invited to teach at an Adult Education Centre.

A year later, Terri saw the London performance of Celebration of the Nile with Suraya Hilal and Company and Les Musiciens du Nil. In 1989 Terri attended the first Suraya Hilal summer school, and in 1990 was invited to teach there. She graduated from the Hilal programme of teacher training in 1994 and continued to serve on the management committee of the Hilal School of Raqs Sharqi and taught at the residential schools until 1997. In that year Suraya Hilal disbanded the Hilal School of Raqs Sharqi, and with three colleagues Teri co-founded the Raqs Sharqi Society.

After a time she began to feel restricted within the Hilal genre and became involved with what was going on in Cairo. Terri now organises and hosts dance holidays in Egypt called Baladi Cairo, which have been a great success. In the year 2000 she founded Serafina Dance which has three branches: teaching, entertaining with solo and troupe performances, and innovative works.

In this interview Jennifer Carmen talks to Terri Hardy in her London home:

How do you view the changes in Raqs Sharqi since your first experience of it in the 1980's? When I first saw the dance, it had a different look to that of today; dance is always coloured by its era, yet the essence is still the same. The changes are guided not only by the top dancers, but also by Cairo's choreographers. The work Raqia Hassan is doing with her international Oriental Dance Festival is bringing more of this to the rest of the world and this will no doubt lead to more co-creativity in the next genre of Egyptian dance.

Some people would say that the Western influences that they have observed in Cairo are starting to dilute the oriental forms. What would you say to that? It is the Egyptian nature to absorb aspects of other cultures in music and dance. There are traditions in the dance that maintain its integrity, but also there is space for innovation and growth. New movements are being created all the time, as well as new "looks" and new music. Oriental dance is like its music, a structured improvisation of the traditional and the new.

What do you see as the future for the dance in Egypt? It is an exciting and growing art form. It remains to be seen whether Oriental Dance can continue to survive in these changing times. Films are no longer made about dancers as they were in the 50's, 60's and 70's. Many clubs and venues have closed in Cairo. I wonder what form the next patronage of the dance will take. It is sad that the intelligentsia of Cairo does not respect it or consider it part of the cultural heritage of Egypt. The role of the dancer is changing with the increasing westernisation of the younger population, so who knows where it will go?

Mahmoud Reda has also had a great influence on dance style and teaching. A dancer who comes from the Reda school has an ability to teach technique, structure, line, form, and style. This greatly raises the profile and credibility of Oriental Dance and it benefits the tradition of our dance because of its formal teaching structure and awareness of bodyline and form.

How do you feel your dancing style was influenced by your training with Suraya Hilal and then by what you have learned and observed in modern Cairo now? The training that Suraya gave was invaluable. There was discipline, structure and a strong focus on technique; no matter how one judges her technique it is professional dancer's training that I received from her that is important for me. And at that time, she was very inspiring to me. However the root movements were limited and once you had learnt them there was no where else to go, so studying in Cairo has enlarged my vocabulary and I gained more expression, feeling and a deeper understanding of the dance.

Movements are executed with juxtaposition of knee and hip, the feet are used more in flat and demi-pointe variations and dancing from the waist achieves articulation rather than the isolation of hip movements taught in the Hilal style.

However what the Hilal School and The Dance Theatre of Egypt have done for the world of Oriental Dance is something that Cairo has not given, and that is it was very instrumental in bringing a dignity and grace to a western branch of raqs sharqi and has succeeded in achieving some prestige for the dance in Britain and abroad.

Over the years that you have been involved with the dance as a teacher and a performer you have also led dance groups at different times. What is your approach when you train dancers for performance, and what is your guiding philosophy in getting a group of dancers together? I ask the dancers who train with me to be willing to step out of their current ideas and boundaries about how to dance. It is important to be able to stand with a good tall posture, have a basic technique, line and form and the ability to feel. Also dancers must be willing to exhibit a generous sensuality in their movements. A dancer needs to be able to acknowledge that all of us have the ability to use individual dance skills while working within a group.

I felt connected to an archetypal energy of female dance and not bound by the Oriental version of expression, as I understood it at that time. Oriental Dance was a basis to step off and create from. I believe that all of us tap into some sort of female archtypal energy at times that inspires all of us dancers to go one step further, to discover and uncover.

Cairo is the centre of this dance and it is important that dancers go to Cairo and learn new moves as well as the traditions. They need to see what is happening for themselves and that dancers come back and do not just do what they have learnt there, but integrate what they have learnt into their previous knowledge. Because this dance is alive it changes daily.

Also it helps dancers to go to Cairo and correct some illusions that they may have about the expression and meaning of Oriental Dance.

You have worked with the British Museum now for three years. What do you do there? I am the dancer in residence, participating in a variety of events at the museum that involve dance. That involves working with the Young Friends of the British Museum and participating in corporate events like the launch of the Queen of Sheba exhibition. I research dance forms for the museum - for example I had to research Amazonian dance and Native American Indian dance.

Where would you like to take your particular version of this performing art? The question I ask myself is where will the dance take me? The answer is: I don't know. What I do know is simply that I love this dance and I'll go where it leads me.

Randa Kamal

Randa danced at the Opening and Closing Ceremony for the Oriental Dance Festival in Cairo Ahlan wa Sahlan this year, and we met again at the home of Samarsen who is the first foreigner to ever make it big in Cairo. Samarsen is well respected by musicians, night club owners and other dancers.

It is suddenly quiet in the vestibule of Samarsen's block of flats out of the stormy Khamsin winds; there is a lowering gritty heat in the yellow sky and everything is covered in desert dust.

Samarsen lives with her big white fluffy cats and fiancé Simon, sequins and strass (rhinestones) glitter on the coffee table, floor and settee. I look at some of her work; it is exquisite, the use of colour and materials giving depth and shine to her motifs. Very beautiful. I ease into the thobe she is creating for me for the final fitting.

Randa arrives with her husband Aemon and Chef d'Orchestre Samir Hussien. Simon organises some soft drinks and ashtrays. Samarsen makes her final adjustments to the costume and we sit down to talk.

I took a group to see Randa's show at the Tivoli a few days earlier. The Tivoli has one of the best stages for dance; it is in the round with a large space for a big orchestra, with good lighting and a raised platform. Randa is a captivating dancer with large generous movements and graceful, skillfully executed arabesques. She communicates and relates with guests with an open hearted, confident stage presence and a warm smile. Her dancing is versatile, expressing joyfulness and intense feeling. She is a strong dancer with confident hips, impeccable line and form and clear lines of the body. Whatever angle photographed from she would be perfect. To me this is a sign of an accomplished dancer.

We had settled down with cokes, sorted out the cat hairs and I asked Randa why she became a dancer. Because I love it was the answer, the same that Aida and Dandash gave, probably the same reason that all of us dance.

Randa is a tall, striking woman, born in Mansoura a town in the Delta that is famous for its beautiful women. "Soheir Zaki came from there too," her husband proudly mentions. They met when Randa was dancing in Alexandria and fell in love. He is a businessman, and they have one child (aged one year called Kareem). Randa admits that she sometimes finds motherhood hard work but would not be without her son.

I asked Randa what she considered a definition of a successful dancer. She said that firstly, "you must learn how to dance, then live it and love it, love the guests and feel it when you are dancing. There must be a relationship between the guests and the dancer. You make this when you feel the music and express it. You must have a good orchestra."

At the Tivoli, she ended with a deeply romantic and intense dance to You Are My Life by Oum Kalsoom. There was a shy bride and her family sitting at the rear of the club. Randa is inspired to choreography when she "dreams about movement and feeling" when she is sleeping. Also Randa listens to lots of music and then she chooses it and Samir must prepare the songs. He says sometimes Randa chooses the strangest songs that he must then arrange for dance. She prefers to dance to "the old music with its arrangements; it is beautiful and good music."

Samir knows many songs; he has been a singer for 20 years and is inspired by working with dancers. He says every "dancer has something fantastic." Samir started singing in primary school and has worked with Soheir Zaid, Isa Sheriffe, Nelly Fouad, Abil Kamir, Samarsen and now Randa.

There is a lull in the conversation as the Khamsin (50 day winds) howl and beat at the windows.

Randa loved to dance the Feast of the Mother every year in Spring at her school, then she studied dance for 7 years with the Reda Troup and travelled all over the world with them, to London, Sweden, Norway, Spain and America. She did feel a bit bored because it was choreography by numbers; the style that was taught at that time was fellahin legs and feet and sharqi hips. She spent two years shaking shoulders and hips but recognised the benefits of the discipline. Randa has been inspired by Samia Gamel for her feeling, Soheir Zaki for her hips, Nagua Fouad for her arms, Mona Said and Nahed Sabry for their style.

She danced at Sheraton Montaza and the Riviera Iskanderia, 7 years in Kuwait and 4 years at the Semiramis and presently dances at the Tivoli and Maxim.

While Randa looks at Samarsen's costumes, Aemon her husband tells me he met her in Alexandria when he was visiting there for business and fell in love and married. He is proud of her and tells me she has the focus and concentration of a true artist.

He says that "dancers are not looked on as artists; they are not on TV or recognised as an art form at Cairo Opera House. There is a lot of bad publicity about dancers in films and said that they are only after money." Aemon is sad that there is no cultural respect for dancers in Egypt but is pleased that Randa is achieving recognition at the Oriental Dance Festival and from foreigners. She will be teaching in France this year.

The winds refresh themselves and began a new howling attack.

Samir is listening to some music that Samarsen is playing. He grabs a bit of paper, and begins to write notes and verse, humming to the song; it is a piece he loves and had forgotten. Randa loves it too and wants to dance to it.

I asked Randa what advice she had for those learning to dance. She said, "Raqs is not just about your dress but about feeling and dancing, you must develop your personality and not rely on too many tableaux. Do not dance just for money, dance because you love to dance."

This is true. In the workshop she gave, the movements were large and challenging, so different from Dandash. Both women have a style that is unique to each. Randa stressed the need for feeling the music and the movements all the time we were learning technique. This to me is a very valid point; refining the body expressions enough to be able to dance with feeling requires more than a good technique and skillful execution of choreography and improvisation. Once we have mastered the former, we then have a vessel to hold the dance of our own individual expression of Spirit. Randa is a demanding and strict teacher, and her teaching is clear and inspiring.

Samir arranged to meet Samarsen at the Hilton the following day to collect some music from her to prepare for a show. Randa and Aemon gathered themselves together to go home to Kareem.

Samarsen and I sat down and discussed feeling and sexuality in the dance. She put into words what she thinks about feeling the music and communicating to the guests. "To understand this dance we have to understand the role of the dancer in the oriental world. As dancers we are expressing feeling in our bodies in a confident and womanly way. There is no traditional couples dance in Egypt, the dancer shows a sexual vitality and femininity that makes connections between people, the Egyptian women understand this, that the dancer is a bridge on stage."

We begin to discuss how this is misunderstood and treated to double standards in Egyptian and European cultures, we explore the sensual power of the dance, Simon goes out to buy sandwiches and the Khamsen winds sing on.

Medhat Fahmy talks about Mahmoud Reda

Extract from article by kind permission of Maggie Caffrey. With Nasser coming to power in the early fifties, there was a strong move to rid Egypt of the excesses of King Farouk's reign. Restrictions were placed on oriental dancers as to what they could wear and include in their performances. Mahmoud Reda, an Olympic gymnast who toured abroad as an exponent of Argentinian folk dance became inspired with the possibility of making Egypt proud of its own folkloric dances. Public dancing was at this time considered risque, low class and done by uneducated people.

Mahmoud became choreographer, teacher, artistic director and first dancer, whilst his wife Nadeeda designed costumes. Ali (his brother) was planning director and his wife Meida became Farida Fahmy.

Medhat came to teach a workshop for Baladi Cairo dance course in October. With his concise and neat style of dancing that is confident, sure-footed and graceful; he was an immediate hit with the students. His choreography was not only fun to dance, it also looked good and was great for groups.

Medhat arrived with his teenage daughters Nesma 17 and Nancy 14, who operated the cassette player and translated for us. Nesma is currently studying at Cairo University and would like to become a dancer, but with the current situation for dancers in Egypt, Medhat wants her to carry on studying for her degree.

At the age of 16 years, Medhat first saw the Mahmoud Reda Folkloric Troupe on TV. He saw Mahmoud Reda and Farida Fahmy dance in a film called Agaza Nus El Sana. He loved the music, dance and costumes and was greatly inspiried by the film.

At that time "everybody wanted to join the Reda Folkloric Troupe. It was loved by all," and Medhat wanted to be one of them.

He saw an advert at the Balloon Theatre the current home of Reda troupe for dancers. There were over 400 applicants and Medhat was one of the 7 chosen to train for 6 months and then tour around the world to America, UK, France, and Belgium. Since then Medhat has learnt 75 of Reda's choreographies and created 45 of his own.

I asked him about his training.

"The dancer must learn ballet to have the courage to come on stage. We learnt the soul of ballet and Mahmoud Reda has taken the burre, arabesque, debolet, pirouette, tour rondelle, and applied it in a folkloric way so ballet has become the foundation teaching for folkloric dance. We also learnt the most popular dance forms from Assiya, Siwa, Iskandaria, Mersa, Matour, Suez, Said, Dabka, and Fellahin.

Oriental dance is also branch of the old dances; I like the movements. Egyptian dance has a lot of movement, but the folkloric dancer learns all types of dance."

Maggie Caffrey notes in her article that "Farida Fahmy was sent into women's parties to make notes and learn new steps. They were scrutinized carefully, the more exaggerated sexual movements of the belly being dropped. Mahmoud Reda claimed these only made up 10 percent of traditional dance anyway. Because the dances were being brought to the stage, it was important to get the dancers using space rather than remaining more or less on the spot as had been traditional."

Mahmoud Reda has had a great effect on oriental dance today; we have the arabesques and larger use of space on stage as a result of those women who trained with him taking to oriental dance like Shu Shu Amin, Aida Nour, Raqia Hassan and Randa Kamal. Those dancers who have danced and trained with the Reda Folkloric Troupe have good stagecraft, neat and graceful movements and make good teachers.

Mahmoud Reda is from Sayyeda Zeinab. In Cairo he danced at Moulids (saint's days festivals) and then in the 1950's was an Olympic gymnast who danced the rhumba and tango with an Argentinian troupe. When Reda saw Gene Kelly and Fred Astaire on TV, he had an idea he would like to make a film for the Reda Troupe.

When Reda first created the troupe, it was formed of 7 men and 7 women who were friends and family. As show was created for the Balloon Theatre in 1958 with Naima Akif in an operetta Arya Leili Eilin. This was the beginning of a new dance form for Egypt.

Reda went out into the fields of Egypt and saw the local folk dances. These inspired him to create choreographies from all the different things he saw.

The Reda Folkloric style has brought respectability to dance in Egypt; it is innocent and attractive, the ballet and folklore based steps have given a versatility of approach that encompasses a range of Egyptian society from farmers to sailors and gypsies as well as the baladi and afrangi (educated) people. The dance is very popular because it uses elements from all over Egypt and people can identify with it. There is something for everyone.

Medhat Fahmy was a dancer and choreographer with the Reda Folkloric Troupe for many years. He is married to Sawsan, a dancer of the Reda Troupe. They have two teenage girls, Nesma and Nancy. Nancy studies at Cairo University. Medhat lives in Cairo, teaches and choreographs in Cairo, and is Manager to Aida Nour.

Samarsen

Samarsen began dancing for the same reason all of us do. She fell in love with it. In 1979 she came to Cairo and saw a show by Isa Sheriffe and Soheir Zaki. The combination of their powerful personality and total command of the stage impressed her and she returned to Sweden with the dance in her heart.

She studied with an American dance teacher in 1980, then returned to Egypt from 1981-82 to study with Raqia Hassan for two weeks each year. Fifi Abdou, Aida Noor and Nancy continued to inspire her dancing.

In 1986 Samarsen was working as a sky dancer in London because she "wanted to get out of Sweden and do something exciting with my life". She met an empresario who got her a dancing contract in Delhi for two weeks, and continued to work with him in Oman 1986. Then she became the first official foreign belly dancer in Egypt in 1989-90 at the Safir Hotel Nile Hilton, and in 1990 shared the Nile Hilton stage with Lucy.

For the following seven years Samarsen danced at weddings in five star hotels, many of the famous cabaret venues, in disco nightclubs and at private parties. She often danced as a replacement dancer for Fifi, Lucy and Dina and says, "The guests did not make complaints". She was a popular dancer and people started to come to the hotels on the days she was dancing. Samarsen began to feel physically and mentally burnt out, and also at this time many of the cabaret clubs started to close and the five star venues were turning into discos.

Samarsen's knowledge of the movements of the dance and recent dance and club history in Cairo is comprehensive. She is concerned that this dance should survive and that the steps are not forgotten. Each time she sees a new step she has written it down and learnt it since 1979. Samarsen is a living library of technique and moves from a large range of dancers. She is currently on a teaching tour in Scandinavia.

I asked Samarsen what advice from her experience as a dancer she had to give to readers in the UK.

"I love choreography - good choreography because it makes a dancer look polished and professional. It is a fine piece of art when you start from zero and build something up.

On the stage, certain pieces are choreographed and some I improvise according to what the audience ask for. I want to choose whether I dance to a choreography on stage or not, it is up to me and I choose in the moment. Choreography is good because when I am tired on stage, then I have something to fall back on.

It is possible to learn discipline and form from choreographing music; you push yourself more.

To understand this dance you have to understand the role of the dancer in the oriental world. The dancer expresses a sexual vitality and femininity to make the connections between people as there is no cultural pair (couples) dance in Egypt. It is the dancer's duty to let steam off for the audience in a safe and comfortable way.

In a nightclub show, the dancer talks to the guests and acts as a hostess on the stage as well as an entertainer; she has a love for her audience and encompasses everybody with humour so that her dancing feels nice to watch. It was not until I danced in Cabaret that I learnt to relax and have fun. There is no vulgarity on stage, and Egyptian men would not put money in the belt or bra because they know that that is not the way to treat a dancer.

At weddings it is the dancer who reaches out to the guests, in a hotel that I have been able to make a production of a full show."

Samarsen goes on to give her advice of the qualities she thinks good dancer should have.

"The dancer must have the ability to move her body, she must have a love for the music and be willing to train hard and extensively. Also it is important to love the audience, to be generous and warm and remember that you are there to satisfy your audience and not your ego.

Watch videos of old dancers, brainwash yourself, and make a connection between movement and the music. In training, broaden everything; dig into your possibilities and personality to give depth and strength. Do what you are good at and develop it so that it becomes unique. Be good in your own style and do not try to do everything on stage. All of the great Egyptian dancers have their own style and have concentrated on their good points. They do not try to do every movement on stage."

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