Dear Santa...

Define GOOD, please. ´Cause, as I am learning, there are as many concepts of GOOD as clouds in the sky.
I thought being GOOD would mean HONESTY, KINDNESS, COMPETENCE, GENEROSITY, COMPASSION and so forth and, suddenly, I discover that it also means - for a LOT of people - being a smart ass, fooling others, cheating, lying, cutting other people´s legs in order for one shine, playing games, being cruel.
I am CONFUSED. Just a little...define GOOD, please. PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!

Hmmmm...smells like bullshit.

It really does.

When, in a space of two weeks, I am requested to perform at the party of two Saudi businessmen "visiting Cairo".

The first one was fishy enough. Private party at the businessman´s recreational villa with request for two hours of show, non stop.

The business would be made through an egyptian "employee" and I was requested to perform without my orchestra, which I declined without blinking.

Then the second one came a few days later in the same shape and smell*. One of the "employees" also requested names of egyptian dancers who I could recommend as the secret "saudi business man" wished for "variety".

I am not an empresario and it is not my job to recruit dancers for private parties but I suggested the name of one from whom I happened to have the contact.

One of the clients (maybe the same client with two "employees" trying to get comissions as high as possible from this fishy gig) accepted my proposal of performing my standard show WITH my orchestra and the other insisted I would go alone. No deal for the second - no way I would put myself in the private home of a saudi businessman performing God knows WHAT* by myself - and firm grip on the first.

He complained, he insisted the client wanted only me, no musicians and me explaining and hitting him on the face: ONLY with my orchestra present.

I was, kindly, informed that - due to my stubborn position - I was not longer requested for this *job. An egyptian dancer was found for it.

If my sharp sense of smell doesn´t fail me this is a case of dirty, cheap BULLSHIT: rich guys from oil countries come to Cairo on professional or recreational basis and want to "have some fun" in a city much more permissive than their native places so they invade the "street of Pyramids" for its 5th cathegory night-clubs (drugs, alcohol and prostitutes on the menu, VERY religious INDEED) and hire prostitutes "disguised as dancers" for some private horizontal **entertainment.

My first reaction to both requests - which I am inclided to believe were for the same client - was NO. Then, I thought it over and wished to get over my own prejudices. Not ALL saudi men are looking for prostitutes. Not ALL private parties for business men are pip shows. I had just performed at a private party and the environment and audience were AMAZING. Of course, they were a DECENT, sweet egyptian family but and not a saudi business man in town but, hey, if I fight against other people´s prejudices, I should face and fight my own.

Against my own sense of smell - upps...I meant: better judgment - I said YES with the condition of having my orchestra and personal assistant with me. In that case, I would be safe and backguarded as "my men" are my royal protectors, as well as musicians and co-workers. In case any monkey business was intendend towards me, not only would I have a group of well armed and scarred, Shobra and Sayeda Zeinab neighbourhood guys assuring my escape as well as the pleasant sight of rich, big tummy, arrogant guys getting kicked in their asses by my musicians/bodyguards. I wouldn´t mind watching THAT* movie, said the devil in me.;)

The result was, I am afraid to admit, less than desirable: it was fishy. It was...well...for the lack of a better word... bullshit.

This next wednesday, an egyptian "dancer"** (it takes two** to tango, baby/habibty...) will be doing a peep show for a bunch of saudi men "looking for fresh meat". For some reason, I don´t know if I should laugh or cry.

When, oh WHEN, will people be straight and call the sheeps by their REAL name?!

Ok, now repeat after me:

The sun is yellow, the sky is blue. I know an asshole and that asshole is you.

When looking for a DANCER, ask for a DANCER.

When looking for a PROSTITUTE, ask for a PROSTITUTE.

Quite simple, isn´t it? You may also leave the toilet seat down after doing your personal service,thank you very much.

Calling things by their name is not so rude as hiring ARTISTS for prostitute´s jobs.

Got it*?

I confess.

This is how I feel in most egyptian weddings *(check the image on the right side), not really knowing if I should DANCE *(which is actually, my job) or make the happy guests jump.

Not easy to coordenate my artistic pleasures - and duties, I guess - with the mood of most audiences in Cairo weddings. It seems that, in these occasions, people wish for someone who can makes them yell, jump and do some acrobatics over their joy and not so much an ARTIST who is doing what an ARTIST is supposed to do.

Though the frustration is palpable, I always end up surrendering to egyptian hearts and go with the flow, jumping and doing monkey business with everybody else. The results of this bombastic combination - a frustrated me and a cheerful egyptian wedding audience - can be from disastrous to extremely comical. I even ended up doing a solo on a little chair, clapping and yelling with the crowds while my musicians were drowned, literally speaking, beneath the guests feet.

Crazy, craaaaaaaaaaaaazy Cairo!

(love it, though...)

"Welcome to the freak show!"

People, people, people...gather your families and buy your popcorn & balloons. Circus has arrived to the town of Cairo and, with it, an whole array of freaks that test your nerves and your ability to understand what´s for real and what´s a product of your imagination.

As I was feeding the only survivor of family of cats my neighbours got rid off (killing cats and dogs is considered very normal and acceptable in Egypt - ?!?!?!?!?!), I heard somone at the floor above mine opening a door and putting their head out in order to understand from where that voice - mine, while playing and caressing the baby cat survivor - was coming.

This attentive head stood there, listening to my cat-talk, for a while and then the door closed and a young man went down the stairs and quickly appeared in front of me staring at the scene.

When he noticed a baby cat was playing under my legs, he jumped in terror as if he saw a lion of the jungle and ran away but not for long, unfortunately. After the initial shock of finding a really dangerous creature under my legs - no one has an idea of how dangerous that sweet little cat is! - giving me a clear portrait of what GAY means, the character returned to my side and started the classical torture questionary, while ignoring my disgusted expression and the dangerous wild animal that made him run for his life:

-Hi, how are you?

-I am fine, thanks.

-This is your cat?

-No, it s a cat from the building.

-What´s your name?

-Joana.

-Beautiful name. I am Ahmed.

-Hm, hmmm....(heavy silence which subtle negativity was not perceived by this Romeu).

-I am egyptian.

-Good for you.

-And you? Where are you from?

-Portugal.

-Do you live in the building? ´Cause I live on the upstairs floor.

-Yeah, I live in the building. - I tried to close the conversation as I started to poke the little cat in a "good-buy" way, while looking at the egyptian Romeu with clear intentions of finding him a REAL dangerous animal in order to eliminate him from the face of the earth.

-You´re very beautiful. Are you married?

I knew where this was heading so I prepared to leave.

-Hey, where are you going?

-Duh! - No patience, anymore, for such dull stupidity.

After five minutes of being inside of my flat, the door bell rang.

I opened the door to find the egyptian Romeu with another guy who looked like his asshole brother.

-Hi! We want to invite you for a party at our place tomorrow.

-Sorry, but I will be busy.Thanks, anyway.

-Why busy?

-Because I am.

-Oh, pleassseeeee, come to our party.

-I already said I will be busy. THANK YOU VERY MUCH!

Before I closed the door, he found time to insist:

-So give me your phone number. I want to call you.

-Duh! Duh! Duh!- I am out of "DUHs". Since when women give away their phone numbers to strangers? Since when mental retarded assholes like these ones presume it is OK to knock on a woman´s door to invite them for private parties and declare they wish to call them?!

Since when?!

The freaks did not return to my door but there is an upstairs vigilance going on 24 hours per day, assuring that no comings and goings from my side are left unobserved.

A famous Christmas song says:

"You better watch, you better not cry,

You better not pout,

I am telling you why

Santa Claus is coming to town."

And then there is another infamous song that goes like:

"You better watch out, you better not talk,

You better hide yourself under the wings of a hawk,

Cause Santa Freak is already in town."

Cultural misunderstandings.

Criss-cross cultural relationships are great.

You can learn and experience life from different points of view when in love with a foreign man/woman. You can also put yourself in a huge mess.

Classical situations:

Egyptian/arab man sees woman and wants to have sex with her.

What does he do?

If she´s a foreigner, he tries to get her in bed with sweet talking, poetry, romantic exaggerations and a thousands "you´re the moon, you´re the sun". It is "known" that foreigners are FREE and this only means one thing in these heads: she fools around with every men in town and nobody cares about it (sweet plus one: foreigner women are all rich, according to local mentality).

If she´s an egyptian or arabic woman, then he tries to sleep with her (both of them are sexual beings, although current mentality tries to deny it...then, if she´s really afraid of her family, society and the consequences of losing virginity before marriage, he man MARRIES HER.

Whoa, Nelly! Marrying someone just to be able to have sex with her/him?! Well, yeah.

Does he love her? Does she love him? Well, that s not REALLY the question.

The question is they both want to go to bed together ( and I don´t mean "to have a good night sleep") but the only legal, morally accepted way to do it is marrying each other. So they do.

After they do and get tired of the sex craze fest they longed for so much there is nothing but divorcing or sticking up to each other, having children, perpetuating the machine of procriation that will produce future generations of islamic defenders. They put up with each other´s mutual hate with the same martyrdom and patience as their fathers and mothers, eventually, did.

Then he cheats on his wife openly (men are allowed to do that and they re called "BIG SHOTS")or marries another wives (until four of them for whom he is finantially responsible) and she cheats on her husband "under the table" (women are NOT allowed to do that and, if they´re discovered, they re considered prostitutes and punished in many different ways).

The confusion between sexual desire and marriage is a constant over here, consequence of the repression both sexes are always living in.

If you re not allowed to taste food in a natural way, then all you think about is....food and that blinds you to the existence or possibility of anything else like...that silly old thing called...LOVE.

Kind of logical, don´t you think?! Curious how LOGIC can mean so many different things to so many different people.

So I've said.

If you're a weak human being, your ART - whatever shape it may take - will reflect your weakness.
If you have no true JOY, LOVE, PASSION in your LIFE, then your ART will be empty of those.
I've met a few assholes who were very talented in their art (yes, there are people who are ugly human beings but manage to be beautiful in their artistic work...go figure how!???) but, somehow, that low character they are so proud of in their private lives always end up showing in their work.

For me, the connection has always been clear and DIRECT: I dance, choreograph, teach, write as a MIRROR of who I am and how I LIVE. If there is a predominance of JOY in my LIFE, then my work will reflect that. If I am going through hard times, then I will turn them into ART and produce the alchemic job of a magician, turning sadness and fear into happiness and FREEDOM. I grab my LIFE with my own hands and shape it into ART.
For that, I need my LIFE to be FULL of REAL stuff: REAL me, REAL love in all forms, REAL friends (even if the REAL ones are very few), REAL work of quality (even if I m punished for not surrendering to the dirty system that asks me to sell my body and soul to the devils), REAL tenderness, even REAL anger and sadness...

The acting does NOT substitute the REAL thing in DANCING. Many dancers ACT on stage and are convinced the trick will do. I m not so sure about that. For me, there are NO tricks, no acting while on stage. Or you open yourself and show your LIFE to your audience, or you will only be a fake, weak approximation of a dancer.

Being vulnerable is the quality of the STRONG. Having a QUALITY LIFE to share with your audiences is the quality of the RARE human beings.
Strong individuals, as strong artists.
For me, they are the same.

The great (often hidden) sides of the coin or the Puppet show for adults.


If there are several hard aspects - incomprehensible to my own "limited" mind - about living in Cairo (which does not represent the whole Egypt and egyptians), I must say that there are also magical reasons to LOVE this city and this country.

Let s not forget ( as criticals and foreigners do much frequently, me included) that Cairo is a major jungle in the center of the Middle East and Africa. Millions of people circulate in this overcrowded city, literally, "running for their lives" and they have to compete in a marathon full of holes, traps, dirty spots on the road and many scorpions who will bite you and aniquilate you if they see you run better/faster than them.

Frank Sinatra said in the famous song "New York, New York":

"If I can make it there, I ll make it anywhere..."
I have a sure impression that he was singing about Cairo, not New York.

New York was just a secret code word he used in order not to cause any stirr about cross cultural matters.

Although New york is, in its own style, another kind of jungle where so many people are trying to get the same pieces of cake, the corruption and the lack of humanity has not reached the point where Cairo is, devilishly, seated.
If you can MAKE IT in Cairo without turning yourself into a "son/daughter of a bitch" then you should be considered a hero and statues should be sculpted on your honour.
Talent, honesty, hard work and competence are not rewarded but seen as dangerous treats that will, eventually, corrupt the dirty order of lobbies and mafias existent in every single area in this country.
The smart asses who can cheat, steal, lie and play the diplomatic dirty games required by a corrupted system are the WINNERS and it s a miracle when someone can break this chain and still be SUCCESSFUL!

Now...there are two sides to every coin/story.
I could not stop to smile when I was heading to my home, in Zamalek, and saw the advertisement for one more of the already famous Puppet shows at the "El Sewy Centre" in the same zone of Zamalek.
I think this centre is a blessed place, giving opportunity to so many wonderful artist of all areas to show their work in a respectable environment where people understand and appreciate ART.
Sure I already had many doors shut on my face there, when proposing Oriental Dance shows, but I guess that asking a mainstream cultural place to accept its own egyptian dance is STILL asking for way too much...

I ve been in some of these puppet shows related with Om Kolthoum and Abdel Halim Hafez and felt surprised and delighted to see children and, mostly, adults crying and smiling over a few puppets on stage pretending to be the famous singers and their orchestras.
Now it was time for "The Beatles" puppet show and it s all sold out.
In which other country would you find adults filling a theatre to watch and feel emotionally taken by puppets?!

I find in egyptian people the kind of sense of humour, wonder and innocence that they have almost forgot. In times like these where everybody seems to be becoming a wild animal just to save his own ass, it s endearing and lovely to watch these simple facts that show me that not everything is lost.
If adults can be faithful audiences to puppet shows like the ones I watched at this centre, then they haven t totally lost their heart yet. There is still hope!
They re still alive, still children at heart, still carrying some white, clean territories in the polluted ground of their souls.

It s wonderful to be able to find the beautiful sides of these coins. Everywhere.

"Hey, cavemen...up for marriage...tomorrow morning?!"

My mobile rang with tis usual irritating tone. I do not like phones or speaking through them. In a previous life time, some phone must have exploded in my ears and, therefore, I abhorr all kinds of phones in this current life.
With shopping and phones, I must be the opposite of most women: hate shopping and speaking on the phone! Go figure...

- Hi, Joana! Do you want to marry an egyptian man? - I heard from the other side of the line, coming from a familiar voice but with no preliminaries or "salam ualeekum".
- Hi! How are you? What the hell are you talking about? - I answered, quite not prepared for yet another episode of typical egyptian craziness.
- I have a friend who is a doctor and the owner of his own company and I told him about you and how amazing you are and I also showed him your photo and he wants to marry you. Are you interested? - He continued, as if he was asking me if I wanted to have coffee on any given sunny afternoon.

*What DA F..................................??!!!!!! (I thought to myself).
I ve dealt with so much and so varied kinds of weirdos around here but they never fail to surprise me and shock me more and more.

I was speechless, not so much because I didn t know what to say but because I am simply sick and tired from egyptian mentality towards women and relationships. It seems that people around here get married for all the reasons, EXCEPT LOVE. This makes me want to throw up!

- No, I don t want to marry any egyptian man. Not interested but thank you for asking. - I said, in a last attempt of being polite.

- Why not? He s very good looking and you ll make gorgeous babies together and he s offering you the direction of his own company. I told him you are not only an artist but also a very intelligent, highly educated woman so he s ready to give you the leadership of his company. What do you think?" - He continued, in pursuit of his own "match making" challenge, talking with me as if I was a piece of merchandise someone wants to buy for a great price.

I didn t have time to think about an answer to this lunatic conversation when my "express husband" spoke for himself (and so poorly, I may say!):

- Hi, I am doctor X. I heard so much about you. I want to see you and marry you. - A strange voice came from the other side of the line.

My patience was, instantly, over. I asked him to pass the phone to my "friend" and told him very clearly that I had no intention of marrying any egyptian man and that most of them are the kind of men I would not recommend to my worst enemy, if I had one. As it happens to every rule, there must be exceptions to the majority but I didn t find one of them just yet.

- NO, THANK YOU VERY MUCH. I d rather eat indian cow s dung for lunch than to marry someone I hardly know just because he is offering me "everything" and, by everything, we can mean so many different things.

I never stop surprising me around here. At which extent does this local "logic" goes and how different is my own perception of the world and their own perception of the world.


Meanwhile, I try so hard to keep my mental sanity going on...

My very own LOVE declaration for Egypt.

My dear friend and fellow dancer/artist Mohamed Shahin posted the most interesting note on the Facebook. Like it usually happens with most polemic "goodies", this note caused such a stir and reawakened a fire that was never extinguished in my heart.

For writing this note and even defending me from some mediocre dancers comments on my person, I thank him and my warmest thoughts go to him.

The main theme of the note was the way Oriental Dancers live and are treated in Egypt and how dirty is the whole business around here.

There was a lot of mixing between the love for Egypt - the title of the note was "Egypt-love it or leave it" - and the criticism over the prostitution and general corruption associated with Oriental Dancing in Egypt.

As the wonderful egyptian writer Allah al Aswany would rightfully tell you, there is no such thing as "love it or leave it". You can love a country and still see its faults and the rotten things that MUST change in order for that country to flourish in every possible way.

After performing, non stop, in Cairo for the past 5 years and facing the music all by myself (no manager, no empresario, no helping hand, no "connections" of any sort, no rich man on my back, no express egyptian husband who brings me egyptian nationality and help in my career, no damned thing!) I am in total right of speaking up by personal/professional experience and say it out loud:

ORIENTAL DANCE IS STILL ASSOCIATED WITH PROSTITUTION AND LOOSE MORALS IN EGYPT (AND ALL THE MIDDLE EAST) AND MOST 5 STAR JOBS ARE OBTAINED THROUGH THE BED OF SOME MANAGER.

IF SOME DANCERS, LIKE ME, CAN GET A MIRACOULOUS CLEAN CHANCE TO HAVE A LEGAL CONTRACT TO DANCE HERE IN CAIRO THEY WILL NOT GROW IN THEIR CAREERS FROM THAT POINT ON, UNLESS THEY SURRENDER TO THE PROSTITUTED/CORRUPTED BUSINESS.

Now...the ironic thing is that I ve been acused by people who don t even know me of passing through the bed of some of these high powered men and the truth is that I never did it and got punished, until today, for refusing to do it.

My arrogance is the worst kind of arrogance. I CHOOSE the men I sleep with and I don t allow any "pasha" to haunt me down, after having in his agenda the amazing goal of taking me to bed.

Besides that, there s nothing I need to say in my defense because TRUTH speaks for itself BUT I don want to stress this point:

I love Egypt, its music and dance.Due to that LOVE, I chose to come here and make a dignified career built exclusively on my talent and against all odds.

The fact that I arrived here with no connections, guidance or help of any kind and learnt the trade by myself, climbed the stairs with my own legs, learnt the language, the culture and the ART of egyptians by myself is nothing short of miraculous. I have no one but GOD to thank for all this.

Loving a country doesn t mean denying what s wrong with it. Quite que opposite.

I owe my Art to Egypt in every possible way. I ve had the greatest time of my life with egyptian musicians, audiences and "regular" people who, in some way or another, taught me the MEANING of egyptian music and dance. For them all my gratitude and love go...

Egypt is my past, my present, my home, my GREAT school on so many levels and the country where I developed myself as an artist and a woman. So much do I owe to it and yet I am not blind and wish to see REAL CHANGES in this marvellous country.

Dancers should start respecting themselves and not letting ambition and desperation take their dignity away.

I wish ORIENTAL DANCING is in its rightful place and not in one of the roads to easy money and prostitution.

I wish more and more dancers REFUSE to sell their bodies and souls to the devil in exchange for the realization of their dream. If you know you reached any glory by selling yourself, then you re not honouring yourself as a woman or an artist. You are perpetuating an old mentality disgusting idea that STILL says: "Rakkasah sharmouta." (meaning "a dancer is a prostitute").

Here s the reality and what dancers have to face in Cairo:

The great majority of egyptian men will not marry a dancer or present her to her family.

The top gigs on dancing flow through someone s bed with extremely RARE exceptions.

To be a dancer in Cairo, you need to be a hard, cold, thick skinned business woman much more than an ARTIST itself.

Men expect any dancer to accept monetary/career compensations in exchange for sexual favours and very few places do not do it.

When having a regular conversation with any also regular egyptian, expect to have a dirty look at you if you mention you are an Oriental Dancer.

Being a smart ass, passing over another collegues and harming them in any possible low way is on the order of the day (I ve had my share of VERY famous dancers SCREWING me on my back and coming to see my show, ridiculously under cover, to see what the hell am I doing and to copy it).

Flirting with men and accepting their domination is STILL the way to get around as a dancer in Cairo.

The thing is, after so much HARD stuff I had to face on my own over here and after seeing how dance is seen as garbage, I believe more and MORE that ORIENTAL DANCE and REAL DANCERS are sacred and must be treated with respect and reverence.

For this belief I REJECT any humiliating attempt for any man to buy me and I KEEP DOING what I always did - my BEST! - in order to help, somehow on my own limited way, CHANGE the ORIENTAL DANCE situation in Egypt.

Not because I don t love Egypt. If I didn t love it, I would simply leave this country as many egyptian dancers did and want to do.

I keep on the struggle here because I believe in Egypt and in the possibility of, very soon, seeing its music/dance/musicians/dancers being VALUED, CHERISHED and RESPECTED as noble carriers of this amazing country s culture.

This was the dream that brought me here and it s still the same dream that keeps me going and this dream doesn t mean anything else to me except: LOVE.

Third grade encounters with egyptian/arabic women - Part Infinite!

Yes, I ve said it millions of times.

I am a "man s" kind of girl and I usually get along with the masculine side of the world much better than with my own side simply because most women tend to hate me with no apparent reason - with many wonderful exceptions - and men tend to be much more fun, loving and straightforward with me.

So it s surprising when some of the best knowledge bits I ve been gathering here in Egypt come from women, not from men.

At work, my world is MALE. Musicians, assistants, etc, all of them are MEN and this is how I feel comfortable due to their generosity and kindness towards me.

Where do I meet "my women" then???

At the "moroccan bath" (one of those from where you expect to leave with a strange skin disease with no cure) and at the gym (ONLY WOMEN allowed) where I sweat like a pig (thanks Ricky Martin!) and carry a Sylvester Stallone s look while my egyptian fellows carry cute mobiles and outfits combined with their make-up "comme il faut".

Not a drop of sweat. How do they do it???

Yesterday, there was reunion of "training buddies" and I couldn t feel more like the black swan as I did then.

There was I, ready for the boxing challenge and really wet from my SERIOUS training while they were laughing and gossiping on their mobiles and with each other as if the gym was a tea time party where they all discussed everybody s lives.

I moved around the noisy laughing and wondered how do they manage to "train" and still make a party out of it. I am guessing not much "training" will go with it.

One of the girls commented with the others that I am a dancer ("rakasah") so the chaos was doubled and I became the target of the party.

I am used to be stared at. I live in Cairo, for God s sake! Poor me if I minded to be stared at but this one was DIFFERENT.

After the group discovered the exciting news about my profession ( a big deal for common egyptian girls, apparently), they followed me to the "steam" room where I was observed as if I was Madonna shooting her new soft porn video clip.

There I was, sweating like 20 pigs and naked while a group of hysterical girls observed my every movement.

Could I relax?! Well, of course not. But what would be the possible options? Complain about the girls and gain their secret hate? Be mad at this extreme violation of privacy and proof of provincianism?!

By now, I know better than that.

For a moment, I thought: "What a hell...why don t I make them sing Om Kolthoum and dance naked for them in the steam room?"

That would have been THE happening of their lives but I wouldn t go so far.

I just breathed deeply and counted till 20 to calm myself down.

My masters, these women...how sweetly they work my patience and ability to accept the unacceptable...

Beautiful masters.

Cairo, the 21st May, 2011

The delights of frustration.

I look down at my feet and sigh...

Some tears roll down my face simply because I am not getting enough inspiration to come up with the movements that will EXCITE ME.

This is the painful part of choreographing. I have to feel excited about my own creation, otherwise I get really frustrated and do not even dare to show it to anyone, much less to teach it in any world event.

If you add to that the fact that my friend and teacher Mahmoud Reda is always waiting for me to show him my latest "creation" before I teach it to anyone, then you have the perfect formula for a nerve recking state of mind.

I drink a sip of my water and look at myself in the mirror.

"What s wrong with you, girl?!" - I say, almost screaming, to myself and annoyed at myself as a mother facing her naughty, undisciplined child.

You have the knowledge, you have the vocabulary, you have the talent, says the best part of me, that zone where my mind does not play tricks on me and can actually act like she s a true friend of mine.

I try again and again and nothing comes up. I don t know if the water on my face is just sweat or some of the tears that pour from the most fragile corner of my artist s vulnerable heart.

Always wanting to surplant myself. Always searching, not for the novelty, but for the movement that will express TRUE LIFE. Not an easy task, quite a strange lunatic one, even...

And yet I try and try. And do not allow myself to quit.

This is a kind of a battle between me and myself.

I remember Mahmoud (Reda) patiently pushing me forward and assuring me that I CAN do this. I may be an improvizer by nature but Choreography is the demon battle field where I discover who I am, where are my limits and where can I go to GROW as a dancer.

And I feel that deep frustration of not being able to do what I KNOW I can do.

The body has its strange ways and timings of doing things. You can order it to walk and run, if it wants to, but you shouldn t dare to command him like a dancing Hitler when it comes to CREATION.

The body has a mood and a life of its own and, some times, it just closes itself in its shadow...and I wait, as tenderly as I can, for the unexpected moment when my body allows God to speak through me and then I laugh and wipe off those sweet tears and sour sweat from my face. "Oh God, it is coming...it s arriving!" - I think to myself.

This is the moment when Divine intervention starts pouring its colours and patterns through my frustrated, palpitating wet body. And it doesn t stop for a few hours.

I never know when the miracle of creation happens. I can never force it, although I can genlty invite it. Sometimes, I go to the cinema or watch another great dancer to inspire me. Sometimes it is just a poem or a juice seller in the streets of Cairo clincking his metal plates to the rythm of his own frustration or joy.

Sometimes, it all comes from a happy night of love making with my man, or a hug from a friend, the aroma of the summer arriving...God knows what else!

And, when it happens, movements star to flow and unite themselves to my skin and all I can say is Thank you and the only position I know of to match all this creative tempest is a deep, heartfelt bow, lowering myself until I touch the holy ground of a dancer.

And I say, invariably, Thank you.

Cairo, the 15th January, 2011

The happiest moments (on stage)

Oh, I could speak about the applauses and the wonderful comments my audiences from Egypt (and from all over the world) offer me. Those would be more than enough to give me reason and strenght to keep moving forward and trying my best to grow.

But there are even happier goodies when it comes to stage territory!

I tend to be a detail lover in everything I do. Whenever there is a beautiful detail in a room, I will be the first one to notice it. Everything original, smart, creative, out of ordinary order and sense, exceptional! I WILL notice it.

So there's no surprise to say that the happiest moments I enjoy on stage are not the ones one could easily guess.

A look, a smile or a joke I exchange with one of my musicians just before starting a new song, while on stage.

A perfect/ TOTAL moment, movement, deep breath.

A glimpse of God while dancing. Coming from, apparently, nowhere.

An appreciative reaction from a child in the audience or the general look of fascination of the public towards me, when I am REALLY DOING A GOOD JOB!

A hand gesture that gives me tremendous pleasure.

A realization, right there in the middle of any of my stages, that I am accomplishing all the dreams I once had and that they are, indeed, growing faster and bigger than I could ever imagine.

A comment of appreciation and respect from one of my musicians and that incredible thrill of knowing that, next and next time I perform, it will be given to me one more opportunity to do BETTER.

(Feeling the man I adore in my arms while dancing on stage...ups! That's (was) a kind of secret pleasure of mine...)

Cairo, the 15th November, 2010

Early bird shows (so anti-natural...)

Wishing a GREAT, HAPPY, BEAUTIFUL day to every one!

Today I will be an early dancing bird...first show to start within 30 minutes and the other ones to follow until 1.00h in the morning.
Knowing that I will, probably, have a limited time in Egypt (plans for new horizons on the move) makes me enjoy it even more than usual. I guess I will start taking FULL pleasure on each day I spend performing here because I will miss it so much in the future. I am sure of that.

Instead of forbidding Oriental Dance in Ramadan, they should forbid it in the mornings but, hey!, I am not the one who makes the laws in Egypt and the ones who do are well known opposite of geniuses so... duty calls!

LOVE to you all from an early dancing bird (sleepy, sleepy...)
(Great to laugh with my musicians since the morning, though!)

Cairo, the 14th November, 2010









Kamikaze show and

Happy on stage!

With less than one hour to prepare there I went running to the NILE MAXIM to substitute Randa Kamel (egyptian dancer for the ones who don't know her) who was not feeling well.

I had just arrived from my first tango lesson (this time, I will do it for real...no matter what!) and relaxing a bit before leaving to do my next show in another part of the city when the phone rang and the urgent request to perform within an hour came to me as a kamikaze little bomb that I had to handle in my hands with care and...just make it work into a beautiful explosion!

Not enough time to reach all my musicians so I had to perform with the orchestra of Randa Kamel. They know me only by name (except the tabal who worked with me for a few months) and I don't know them. Also not enough time for a proper rehearsal.

Full house with VIP people...yeah, right! And there I was happily thrown to the lion's cage without a clue of how it would all work out.

In a few minutes, I arranged the full hour program with the orchestra and prayed to God for the energy to flow!

Not surprisingly, the show was AMAZING and I thank God for that.

People were actually yelling my name and doing cute, appreciative remarks during the whole show. I was as HAPPY as ever...it made me remember that, no matter how hard are the circumstances around me (or even inside me, at the moment), I am truly HAPPY on stage!

I've always been and now, ready to start planning a new phase in my life and probably leave Egypt to conquer another horizons, I realize how HAPPY I am on stage, sharing all that I am with people, my real life experiences and feelings...

Being a GREAT dancer requires LIVING a GREAT life, otherwise your dance will always be fake, look phony and forced like an acting disaster of a truly bad actor...You need to have REAL LOVE in your life in order to DANCE REAL LOVE on stage. You need to breath joy and excitement in your " real life" in order to communicate that on stage in a truthful, credible way.

Dancers are not actors and I guess that's a common mistake in my profession.

A dancer should always RE-LIVE on stage the magnitude of his/her REAL LIFE, outside the stage. For that and in the sake of my DANCING, I am hungry for LIFE out there...thirsty for passion, for tango embraces with a gorgeous man, for sweet apples and magical treaps, for laughs and tears that come from the deepest place in my soul.

To dance better, I have to live better and MORE...oh, and I will...I am......

Happy...so HAPPY on stage!

Cairo, the 11th November, 2010

What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger!

And I am not dead so...good news!

I am stronger and eager to fight back with my claws, character and courage.

If only these men had the slightest idea of what it means the word WOMAN!

And my diplomatic word for every pasha who thinks he can buy me is a candid and sweet: Fuck yourself!

Cairo, the 25th October, 2010

What a come-back!

Let's make it short, shall we?

I just had the greatest come-back to Cairo EVER.

Work wise, love wise (in love again...yeahhhhhhhh), mood wise, pretty much everything wise.

When you make your own rules and follow your heart always being honest and good to everyone, God brings you the best. People can play around, they can hurt you and go crazy all over you but if you keep being GOOD and FAIR you will surely receive the result of that.

I know that by experience. You collect from the tree the kind of fruit you planted in the first place.

So here I am, happier than ever with a sensation of achievement and bliss that I didn't feel for a long time...

In love again, starting a new work from zero with an amazing energy and feeling blessed by God in my every step.

Yuuuppieee ......... is the only world that occurs to me right now.

Cairo, the 17th July, 2010

Frustration and Delight!

Tonight I felt frustrated with the result of my performances and, at the same time, delighted and blessed with some mean, amazing music I shared with my orchestra on our backstage room.

There are days like these...God gives with one hand and takes with the other.

I could not connect with my audiences the way I enjoy doing. Mostly foreigners and arabs (Arabs have invaded Cairo just before Ramadan for a short Summer season)and a mood that doesn't serve my dance, my music, my intention.
I assume the failure is mine. As a professional, you should be able to reach any, I mean ANY audience and, for many reasons, tonight I couldn't get the deep connection I am used to.

Moving on this one.What can I do NOW???
Only better, better, better on the next shows...

Now the DELIGHT was unforgetable. Improvised music of the best egyptian caste...feeling, love and pure sharing...ahhh..I live for these moments!

It was a good night.
Not perfect but just GOOD.

Cairo, the 15th July,2010

Another indecent proposal

No matter how many times I turn rich guys off. I always receive some sort of direct or indirect indecent proposal. I guess that's part of the obligatory package when you're an Oriental Dance in Egypt.
It's known that all the famous dancers - with rare exceptions, very rare...- grow in their careers and jump into major stardom when they start dating/sleeping with/playing in all sorts of ways with a big shark with his pockets full of money, connections and power.

It is known, for sure. But what is also known in this market is that I tell these big shots to put their money and power into their...you know...the place where the sun never shines (yes,BRAVO! You guessed it!).
Yet, once in a while there are pimps hanging aorund me promising the world and express success on a major scale.

I don't get offended or mad anymore.I pity the pimps and I pity the sharks who cannot conquer a woman, only buy her. I pity the system and the way women - dancers, actresses, singers and any regular woman - sell themselves so easily in exchange for money, job opportunities, dresses, jewels, etc.

For now, I can sit and laugh at the scene as if I was a spectator watching a movie I am not part of.

Last night, there was one more of these one on one pimp-prospective client encounters and it came from the the most unexpected place.
It seems a big shot - that I presume must be a really small shot! - is coming to town next week and heard about me (no kidding!). He heard all the right things (that I am beautiful, an artist and a respectful lady) but he wishes to do with me all the wrong things (no kidding!)in exchange for a brand new show totally financed by him (the biggest and best orchestra I wish for, the dancers and dresses I dream about and everything beyond my imagination...ahhhh...).

Ahhhh...how much I laughed at the pimp's face!
It's not just the fact that I have a man I love and respect above everything but I RESPECT MYSELF before anything else.
If I have been performing daily for four years with no kind of help, promotion or push it's because I refuse to sell myself and lower my head.

What these pimps and cave men do not understand, once more, is that some creatures with breasts and vaginas are actually WOMEN.
And I mean W-O-M-E-N with CAPITAL letters. Not cheap meat.
Women with soul, heart, dignity and self-respect.

What a strange world I am living in...my God!

Cairo, the 28th June, 2010

Clinging to my personal genius Michael Jackson


In times of sorrow, I look for smiles.

In times when others feel so disturbed by my own growth/victories and cannot compete with me and, because to their lack of talent, choose to destroy my work (but not my strenght, talent or soul!) instead of giving what they have, I cling to my own personal inspiration of all times: Michael Jackson.
He always reminds me of what it means PURE GENIUS.

So check the sweetness of these simple, pure lyrics of JACKSON 5:

You and I must make a plan,
We must bring salvation back,
When there is love, I'll be there...

I reach out my hand to you, I have faith in all you do
Just call my name and I'll be there...


AND ANOTHER JEWEL (GOTTA BE THERE)


Got to be there
When she says hello to the world
Got to be there (...)
and show her that she's my girl...

But when I look at her eyes, I realize
I need her sharing the world beside me...

Got to be there
in the morning
And welcome her into my world
and show her that she's my girl
and she says hello (...)



Hoolllllly sweetness....this is honey in its purest form. LOVE YOU, Michael. (Always inspiring me).

ALSO READING Michael Jackson's own biography : MOON WALK (written by Michael himself when he was just a 29 year old ancient soul).
Brilliant. Heartfelt. LOVELY (in all the full meaning of the word).