{"id":1279,"date":"2010-03-03T17:03:47","date_gmt":"2010-03-04T00:03:47","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.gildedserpent.com\/cms\/?p=1279"},"modified":"2013-07-01T13:25:50","modified_gmt":"2013-07-01T20:25:50","slug":"zorbasenseofhumor","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.gildedserpent.com\/cms\/2010\/03\/03\/zorbasenseofhumor\/","title":{"rendered":"A Sense of Humor: It Can Help!"},"content":{"rendered":"

A Quest for Beauty, Part 3<\/h2>\n

\"Zorba<\/p>\n

by Zorba<\/a>
\nmost photos by Sharif<\/a> & Richard G Lowe Jr
\nposted March , 2010
\npart 1<\/a>, part 2<\/a><\/span><\/h3>\n

I opened the show at a recent performance at Moss Landing’s "Haute Enchilada Restaurant",<\/strong> where I am a house dancer as well as the scheduler. As I danced out with my zills pinging away, a male voice from a nearby table said, "This<\/strong> isn’t what I signed up for!"  I immediately replied in my best stage voice, "The women need something to look at too!"  Laughter ensued throughout the room, saving us all from a possibly sticky situation by a healthy sense of humor. By the way, the man in question later told me that he really enjoyed the show (even me) and thanked us for our performance. <\/p>\n

What follows here are several humorous anecdotes. Some of them are about being a male in a female dominated field while some are merely about being a Bellydancer in the first place. My first rule concerning being weird ("weird" as evidenced by some reactions to my previous articles) is to have a good sense of humor! <\/p>\n

\"ZorbaSkirt Man<\/p>\n

A number of years ago, I was in a workshop with the fabulous Alexandra King<\/a><\/span>–a "Gypsy style" workshop featuring a ton of skirt work. Although it was one of the first times, if not the very first time, I’d tried skirt work, apparently Alexandra liked what I was doing because she invited me up to the front of the class to assist her in a demonstration of a combination involving two dancers using skirts. She said. "Don’t worry, I won’t embarrass you!"  In reply, I reached down, lifted and spread my skirt widely and replied, "Do I look like I can be embarrassed?"  Hilarity ensued. <\/p>\n

Goose & Gander<\/p>\n

When I take a class or workshop with a new teacher, I always try to tell her my philosophy of "teach me just like any other student" so she won’t worry about what to do with me. In a workshop with Nourhan Sharif, I hadn’t had the opportunity before class to speak with her, so at the midway class break, she approached me and apologized for her female-centric language and said that she did not want me to feel left out, etc. Bless her! I put her at ease by telling her that "In this<\/strong> context, I just consider myself an honorary woman; it just makes it easier for everyone. If women often have to deal with male-centric language in many places, I figure I can deal with the inverse. What’s sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander! <\/p>\n

The Choreographic Pariah  <\/p>\n

Choreography can be a challenge to me. There was one spot in a certain cane choreography that I was always ending up on the wrong foot. The more I thought about it, the more panicked I felt and the worse the situation became.
\nDuring one rehearsal, I was thinking to myself, "here it comes!"  Sure enough, I ended up on the wrong foot. The instructor immediately cut the music. "Uh-oh" I thought to myself.
\nShe stalked up to me, looked up at me with her hands on her hips, and became four foot nine of red headed wrath: "Zorba," she started, "we’ve been doing this dance for two years, and you always, always, always, do this movement backwards every single time! It’s–the–right–hip!" <\/strong><\/p>\n

I’d like to be able to say that I never screwed it up again, but I did <\/strong>get significantly better after that–whatever it took to get through to my clumsy male brain! <\/p>\n

\"ZorbaAsleep at the Switch<\/p>\n

Once upon a time I was ready to dance a veil number at Monterey’s historic Kalisa’s La Ida Cafe<\/strong>. I was folded up on the stage, veil covering me, waiting for my music to start. Waiting… Waiting… Waiting… No music.  I wondered, "What’s going on? (or not going on?)"  A low murmur started in the audience. Time for some comic relief. I let out a loud, fake snore. Utter silence–but still there was no music. I produced another fake snore, even louder than the first. A titter ran through the audience. I was about to peel my veil back, stick my head out like a turtle’s, and inquire of the sound person something to the effect of "Sometime this week would be nice…" but, just then, the music began, and I danced my veil piece to an audience glowing with smiles! <\/p>\n

There’s nothing worse than sound problems – and I’ve had my share of them, many much worse than the one I have just mentioned above. Music suddenly starts doing the herky-jerky? I’ll often herky-jerky along with it. That wins the audience over every time, because you certainly cannot hide the problem. One time, it was so bad that I pantomimed kicking the errant stereo and "shot" it with a thumb-and-finger pistol! <\/p>\n

\"Mr<\/p>\n

Feral Women  <\/p>\n

I’ve had any number of encounters with what I call "feral women" who are the inverse of the creepy guys with whom female Belly Dancers are all too familiar.  My wife isn’t always present to fend them off, so sometimes I find myself in some "interesting" situations. On one such occasion, a dance brother and I were walking out after the conclusion of a show in which we’d both danced. A woman was waiting for us outside, and immediately expressed her admiration for both our dance performances and, let’s just say she was pretty explicit about the effect same had upon her. Thinking fast, I said "Well, today’s just not your day; I’m married, and he’s gay!" <\/p>\n

Dance Workout <\/p>\n

I was never the athletic type; as a child, I was a bit of an ugly duckling–clumsy, klutzy, and shy. I was always the one chosen last for "the team", and I detested P.E. classes. So now, as a member of Janelle’<\/span>s Santa Cruz class, I’m working harder than I ever have in my entire life! "101 Creative Ways to Torture the Bellydance Student" is the title of a book I’m sure she will be announcing that she has had published any day now. "Paramedics standing by at every class!" Several of us enjoy teasing the long-suffering (and humorous) Janelle about her strenuous workout format. <\/p>\n

The Bet <\/p>\n

I had just finished dancing with Jamaica Sinclair’s "Troupe Diva"<\/strong>  at a street fair, and I was collecting my veil et al<\/em> when a member of the local country western band (who were performing following us on the same stage) walked up to me and asked "Did you lose a bet?" "Oh Goddess!" I thought to myself, "I hope my dancing was better than that!"<\/em><\/strong> but replied aloud, "No, but I think you just did!"  (I’d noticed him in the audience during the performance, and it was fairly obvious that I was the subject of a discussion.)\"Zorba<\/span><\/p>\n

Some Rejoinders  <\/p>\n

How do I handle the rare female detractor who wants to keep me in a narrow "male box"? I handle it with humor of course–but I also drive the point home by adding a rejoinder such as: <\/p>\n