Bellydance has evolved phenomenally since I came to recognize it. My first memories go back to the early 90's in Borujerd, Iran. A gender ambiguous 4 year old adorned with a bowl cut and quintessential 90's fashion, the denim dungaree. Those were simpler times.

As I sat in a corner with a plateful of sweets and fruit, my mum danced her heart out centerstage (living room) in the ladies' high tea.

Then my dad's cousin took over, busting out her version of bellydance or 'raqs arabi' as we knew it. She looked ridiculous.

In a split second my plate was yanked out of my hand and I was hurled to the middle of the floor. I was caught in the tornado of at least 30 cooing, clapping and shrieking women: 'well done Aida...move your shoulders Aida..now hands Aida...' I just wanted to eat my goddamn sweets.

_{forced to dance, Borujerd, Iran, circa 1993}

Dancing is ingrained in our culture in ways that are unimaginable in New Zealand culture. Even more bizarre are my mum's recollection of her childhood memories of 'Moloudy' celebrations. Moloudy occurs when the birth anniversary of one shii'a saint coincides with the death anniversary of another saint, the perfect occasion for a mishmash of festivity and mourning in spectacular form. Women gathered in my great grandmother's home, clad in black shrouds, and ready to bawl their eyes out for 2 hours straight as the clergyman sermonized. As soon as that was over the clergy was sent on his way, curtains were drawn, doors shut, one of the women pulled out the drum and once everyone had made absolutely sure there were no men in the vicinity, the crowd entertainer took to the floor. her act: full striptease. As my mum's teenage uncles had discovered a peep hole through which to watch the show, it was my mum's job to keep watch for my great grandmother. She was 8 at the time.

A couple of years ago I read an article called 'why I can't stand white belly dancers'. It was written by an Egyptian woman who found the growing popularity of bellydance amongst European women to be a form of cultural misappropriation. Here is an excerpt from her article: "Growing up in the Middle East, I saw women in my community do Raqs Sharqi at weddings and parties. Women often danced with other women, in private spaces, so that this dance was for each other. When they danced at house parties with men in attendance, the dynamic shifted. When women danced for women alone, there was a different kind of eroticism, perhaps more powerful, definitely more playful, or maybe that’s how it felt to me, as a child and teenager'.

This resonates with me deeply, as this was also my introduction to dance in the Middle East. But the major difference is the fact that I recognize the bellydance we see today, on stages all over the world, is not the same as what was performed in Moloudy, the ladies' high tea in or house parties in Cairo. It has evolved in front our very eyes. It has drawn influences from ballet, ballroom, flamenco, hip hop and innumerable other styles, with key pioneering dancers such as Didem Kinali forever changing its course in the best way imaginable. Thanks to the information age, we can learn from each other even if we are on opposite corners of the world and the scope for development is unlimited. For that, I'm over the moon.

Transformation of the Art

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