I had talked with the bride's mother in advance, and she informed me that I should dance around the tables, making sure that everyone got a chance to see me. I planned to introduce myself with Raks Mustapha, a song lacking complexity, so that I could circulate through the room with my zills. Then I planned to return to a central area to use my veil. I would follow that with "Warda", to showcase my dancing. Then, I would do a very short chiftetelli for contrast, and follow it all up with a drum solo. Another friend of the bride, Peridata, would then dance with her silk veils. After that, we planned for Hakim's "Walk like an Egyptian" to be the song where we would retrieve the bride and groom and "teach" them to dance together. I had done my research online and talking to other dancers, and I was confident in my plan. I should also state that I was a guest at the wedding as well, so I had to time my exit as a guest and entrance as a dancer. I was scheduled to dance at 8:30, just after the cake-cutting and First Dance. My performance would be the kickoff for the rest of the guests to boogie down.
Eight thirty came and the cake remained uncut. Dinner had finally been served, and the toasts were commencing. After three toasts, the dancers went downstairs to change, not wanting to be late. Within a few minutes, I had my costume on and my makeup bumped up a notch. Then I wrapped my veil around myself as a cover-up and waited in the basement until my cue to come up into the beautifully decorated yard. The toasts continued for another hour, as I waited. A young man came downstairs to use the bathroom and asked me if I would be coming out to do a sexy dance for the groom. I explained that I don't really do that sexy stuff – that my goal was just to make sure everyone has fun. Another young man asked me what kind of dance I do. I held up my zills and asked him laughingly to guess. He guessed right.
The basement also turned out to be where the kids were hanging out, watching Aladdin, of all movies! One of the parents asked me when I would be performing, not wanting to miss it. I told her that I would be going on after the first dance. Then, another adult authoritatively stated, "No, there's going to be more toasts before you can dance." Now, I had no idea when I would be going on, and I couldn't hear exactly what was happening upstairs. I put on my zills and occasionally peeked upstairs. Surely, I would get some warning before I went on, like hearing my name announced. Or so I hoped.
No such luck. Just then I heard the strains of Raks Mustapha!
I’m on!!!
I scurried outside only to find that instead of dancing around tables and through the crowd, everyone had gathered around the patio to watch me. And I do mean everyone: all of the guests as far back as I could see, and all the children held in their parent's arms.
I was suddenly stricken with doubt. I couldn’t imagine how I was going to make Raks Mustapha interesting for three minutes. I was now worried that my zills were off the beat and that I was dancing like a first-year student. I look over at the bride, smiling indulgently at me, hoping she was not regretting her decision to hire me. As for the rest of the audience – surely they were bored of hip-drops by now?
Finally, my veil song came on. I whooshed my veil over a few little kids, played peek-a-boo with a toddler, and did all of the veil moves I planned. However, here, too, the song -- only three minutes long -- now seemed much longer than it did in my home studio. How much more could I whoosh? Would the audience notice I just repeated "the Burrito" twice?
Then "Warda" started and I somehow regained control of my dancing and nerves. But then, I heard a mom say to another mom that her toddler daughter wanted to see the next dancer already. I thought: "Omigosh, my set is already too long and I have two more songs." During the ayoub rhythm, I performed some side-to-side hair tosses but even the ayoub rhythm seemed longer than before, so I started to throw in some of the crazier hair-tosses I have seen dancers do. Then I thought, "What if they have no idea what I’m doing!”
But I survived Warda and the chiftetelli began It seemed completely wrong for this crowd. What could I do? Ah, yes: children! I danced over to a baby girl and invited her out to dance with me. Holding my hand, she and I walked around in a circle. Then, I crouched down and taught her to do snake arms. Being 18 months or so, she wasn't really getting the move. But the family loved it! I returned her to her mom before she ran out of steam. Now what?
I would go get the bride! I brought the bride out, in her voluminous gown, and we danced together. Now, the chiftetelli couldn’t be long enough. Too soon, it ended and the whole crowd cheered.
The drum solo is my specialty - and this one in particular I had done so many times that I could always nail it. I was at a crossroads now – should I put the bride back into the sidelines and rock my drum solo, or keep her out with me? And then, the smartest epiphany of the entire night came to me – weddings are about the bride. I kept her beside me and we did my drum solo together as a duet. People were cheering so loudly for us that I couldn’t even hear the music. The groom came out to join us, and I showed him how to do shoulder shimmies, to loud rounds of applause. At this point, I realized happily that I was now irrelevant because the bride & groom were jamming together to a drum solo! And isn't that the point? As the belly dancer, it was not about me at all; I was there to get the party to happen.
For my first wedding, it was a fun occasion and I definitely learned a lot. Next time I'll know that I do not need to worry as much about my dance skills. It's more important to get the audience involved. After all, what they remember from the wedding and the photos is that I got the bride to shimmy, not that I had a great shimmy. I've read this advice many times, but it really hit home when the crowd went wild for the audience interaction.
Oh, and by the way: afterwards, I changed into my street clothes and had the pleasant experience of overhearing people talking about how incredible the bellydancers were, and one mom commenting to her daughter: "You know, belly dancing is a very respectable tradition."