Michelle and the Art of Joyous Laughter

Every year since I began dancing (and this is my lucky thirteenth year), I’ve discovered a new way to shimmy. Thirteen years of new shimmies! In what other dance form can you be challenged on such a continuous basis? Two years ago, I took the hardest shimmy class of my dancer’s life—it was Suhaila’s advanced zil class at Tribal Fest. Advanced Zils! I thanked her afterwards for making me feel like a beginner. Let me stress that there was no sarcasm in my voice. (There was no need to clarify my emotion for Suhaila. She, seeing my exhausted yet happy face realized that I truly meant it!) I love attending a fabulous workshop and realizing that there is so much yet to learn about belly dance. Its also a very yin yang experience: just when you begin to feel a little cocky, a little bit like you know how to move, how to shimmy, how to undulate, just then, you take a class from one of the many masters and you achieve egotistical balance. Sure, you may know a great deal, but there is a great deal still to learn.

Several years ago, I had left the first studio I taught at. It was also where I had first learned to dance and while I had learned so much, grown so much in its embrace, I reached a stage where I could no longer grow there—I needed a transplant, a new plot. Fortunately for me, a fellow teacher had left a few months earlier to open a small studio in her garage. Teri graciously allowed me to rent space and begin teaching my own classes. At the time, it felt like a huge step. I was so nervous—not so much about attracting students, but about making the break with the old studio.

Ironically, a year later, that very studio was facing the possibility of gaining new owners or shutting down entirely. Teri and I met with the soon-to-be-retiring owner to discuss the possibility with her. If we took over this decade-old established business, there would be a large monthly rent, the task of rejuvenating the classes and the students, the overcoming of some negative stereotypes. I had subconsciously always dreamed of having my own studio. Why, I’m not sure. It’s a heck of a lot of work, a miserly amount of financial recompense, yet I had dreamed. Was this the opportunity I had been waiting for? After meeting with the owner, I realized it was not. While the thought of having a ready-made studio was tempting, it would not truly have been mine. I would have had to tailor my goals for a studio and teaching to fit what already existed. The biggest reinforcement in making this decision came from attending a Carolena Nerrichio workshop. I’m not sure how the topic even came up, but she made some mention of one day owning her own space instead of renting (at the time, FatChanceBellyDance had been around for about ten years). I realized that if this amazingly talented dancer, founder of a world-famous dance troupe, indeed, creator of an entire style of dance—if she could wait to open her own studio, then surely so could I.

Within a year, the time was right. I opened Farfesha Studios and my vision for what a studio and what classes could be began to take shape.

What is my vision for my studio? In short, my goal is to provide a place where women of all age, size, shape, background, and talent can find supportive instruction. A place where they know they will be challenged to dance better than they did the week before, yet a place where they will leave at the end of the class feeling better about themselves than they did when they walked through the door. Farfesha, the name of my troupe and studio, means “Joyous Laughter” in Arabic. This philosophy is the cornerstone of my performance and instruction. If I can give someone a taste of that joy, I have performed my good deed for the day.

Who has not suffered self-confidence issues? I, for one, am not exempt from this affliction. However, no matter how I feel when I tie a scarf around my hips at six o’clock, by nine o’clock, I am convinced that I am beautiful or graceful, or clever—in other words, the opposite of whatever negative emotion I was feeling earlier. One of my troupe members loves to have business meetings on the morning following practice because she feels so empowered, her co-workers actually comment on it! I think we’re starting to realize our goal in our student’s lives as well. On our website’s forum, one of my students posted: “I have always wanted to belly dance but never had the courage to try until last year. Luckily Michelle's studio was on the internet and I happened to find it on a search engine. I can't even begin to tell you how very happy I am to be dancing!!! It is the little thing in life that mine was missing. I can't believe how lucky I was to have found Farfesha. I just wanted to let everyone know how terrific I think all of you are, don't you ever forget it!” Another student wrote, “I become more confidant in my everyday life. Dancing has improved my life all around.”

Forgive me if I seem to be patting myself on my back, but this is the greatest compliment we could ever receive. I love dancing and I love performing and I feel I am pretty good at both. But to think I have touched someone in such a way that their life is a little better is an accomplishment with far more longevity than any performance.

Other than the dancing and the costumes, one of my absolute favorite things about belly dance are my girlfriends. Be they troupe members or students or just women I chat with via the internet, belly dance is such a unique sisterhood. There is nothing I enjoy more than working late at night in the studio with my fellow Feshies, hammering out choreography. The creative juices get flowing, the laughter is non-stop and we work up an amazing sweat. If we could bottle that essence, it would have to be regulated by the FDA!

I remember once an older woman I was talking to made some disparaging remark about female friends and how she never had any because they were always back-biting. I cannot imagine such a life! I have gained so much from my girlfriends—I know I would be a lesser person had I not had them in my life. Now, before you accuse me of being a Pollyanna, let me assure you that I have had my share of betrayals, letdowns and disappointments from fellow dancers, many of whom I’d counted as close girlfriends. I usually experience a brief period of thinking “I’m going to quit belly dance and take up knitting (or running, or—heaven forbid—housecleaning).” Fortunately this emotion dissipates quickly. I recently spoke with a fellow studio owner from the Midwest who was having no end of fits because the small dance community in which she lived and taught was plagued by a few women of ill intent. She was at her wits end and I offered what meager advice I could. It boiled down to this: you must stay true to yourself first and foremost. If someone maligns you, it is best to address the issue, but otherwise, make like a duck and let it roll off your back. In this area, my husband has been invaluable in helping me keep things in perspective. One of our strong points as women is our ability to care and nuture—we take things personally. However, one of men’s strong points is there ability not to take things personally and sometimes this is the correct road to take. Otherwise you end up giving too much energy to someone who is not worth your time. On the rare occasions where I do encounter such a person, I do a quick inventory and redirect that energy to my fellow troupe members and students—the people who truly matter to me in dance.

Recently in my classes, we’ve been working on emoting while dancing. In other words, conveying your dance not just through your moves but through your facial expressions. My husband calls me a drama queen but I come from a few generations of actors, so I’ve always been able to smile, laugh and flirt while I perform. But what took me years to gain ownership of was the powerful, sensual side of my emotions which can be rather intimidating to share with an audience! What I finally realized can best be illustrated in this story: My husband and I visited Disneyland once. At Disneyland, they have performers drag audience members into their skits. Sometimes the audience member just has to stand there, but usually, they have to play some role. There’s always someone pulled up who is just to cool/sexy/macho/”mature” to get into their part. They stand there looking bored or embarrassed throughout the skit. Then you have those people who get into it. They gamely make fools of themselves, act crazy, cluck like chickens, whatever is required of them. Have you ever noticed that they are the people who get the cheers from the audience? They are the ones that people smile at, pat on the back when the skit is over, remember fondly when they look at their vacation photos. The too cool or too embarrassed actors simply look silly and a bit stodgy.

Well the same is true when you’re dancing and trying to convey an emotion. If you want to be the lioness goddess on the hunt, you must not look embarrassed or self-conscious of your cleavage or thigh-high slit in your skirt. You must OWN the emotion. If you are trying to be cute and fun, you can’t frown or shake your head if you flub your choreography. In the movies, if you build it, they will come. In dance, if you feel it, they will believe it.

May your life be filled with Joyous Laughter!

Farfesha Belly Dance © 2004