Rakkasah Diary. I Came… I Saw… I Schmoozed… I Shopped!
By Gia al Qamar

Rakkasah East is like most famous landmarks in any city USA. You know it’s there, you live close, but you never get around to seeing it if you live in the vicinity. I sheepishly admit that I have never stepped foot inside Lady Liberty and, yup, I‘ve never been to the Empire State Building, though I live just minutes away. But…Rakkasah…well that’s a whole other ballgame!

I’m a 45 minute drive from Somerset NJ where Rakkasah East is held annually. I have been attending for the last 4 years. It is something that every area dancer should attend because it has become a cultural institution for those of us who love Middle Eastern Dance, who love to see our idols in the flesh and, of course, those of us who love to shop!

What follows is a diary of my visit to Rakkasah this year.

Wednesday, October 11th, 2006, 7:30 AM: I awake with chest pain. It’s my cat standing on my lungs. Edgar, the furry alarm clock’s morning greeting is followed by my 12-lick salute by Reuben, my Chihuahua, whose wet kisses are accompanied by my eldest states-cat Murphy’s screams to get the hell out of bed and feed him. Great way to start the day.

11:45 AM: eMails read, animals fed, calls answered, bags packed. I am ready to hit the road. It’s WORKSHOP Day at Rakkasah!

12:45 PM: Arrive at the Ukrainian Cultural Center and am met by lovely overworked chilled to the bone women who check me in…

12:47 PM: I’m moving ever closer to Ansuya, Belly Dance Superstar, who is taller than I expected, but just as lovely as I had anticipated. Hair is neatly pulled back, she wears matching dance bra and pants and a hip scarf. She looks like a poster for Belly Dancer’s Favorite Moisturizer. She is squeaky clean, dewy and perfect. Sigh.
She indulges me by taking a photo. I am happy. I love her energy and her dancing. This will be a good workshop.

12:55 PM: Watch other women preen, spin around the empty floor, trying not to look as though they’re showing off while I try not to look as though I’m watching. Mental note to self: "Get over yourself."

1-4 PM: Workshop. Love the technique, brain cannot keep up with the choreography which I’ll never use anyway… take mental notes, feeling tired… get ready to hit the road.

4:30-9:45 PM: Two Hour drive up to FAR north western NJ to teach a 1-hour class, then head home and collapse. I mention this not only to solicit pity, but also to point out that I was, by far, not the only person who had to drive excessively or perform or teach in addition to taking classes at Rakkasah. I suggest that you stand up right now and applaud us all. Go ahead. I’ll wait.

10:14 PM: Dead to the world… I may never move again.

Thursday, October 12th, 2006: Had to move. Hated to move. Had to teach class. Have lost feeling in entire body. Mental note to self: REST.

Friday, October 13th, 2006: Friday the 13th. This can’t be good…right? I cover myself with nazars (Turkish evil eyes) in the form of bracelets, necklaces. Knock wood, I am not superstitious.

6 PM: Husband Bobby, who has been out of town all week returns this evening. His plane is delayed. When he returns home, we share a very romantic 15 second kiss before he tosses on his tuxedo and heads out to his evening gig… the band is pretty sure he’ll never make it to the job. The Chihuahua is pissed that I got a longer kiss than he did.

8:30 PM: Arrive back at Rakkasah for my first night of power-shopping. I have an actual budget this year…and it’s a good one. I want 2 bedleh, some hip scarves, CDs, DVDs, jewelry, ok… I want everything. Hope springs eternal.

8:32 PM: I try to shop, but am immediately besieged by fellow dancers. Though we’re trying our best to be social, it‘s quickly apparently that we’re all suffering from the same disorder that causes us to speak with one another, but scan the room over each other’s shoulders for sparkly bras and ringing coins…Before we all attain a permanent "Marty Feldman" look, we vow to catch up later and dive head first into a pile of lycra and sequins.

9 PM: Stop and watch a performance. See something sparkly out of the corner of my eye… distracted… wander off into a wall.

9:32 PM: Find hip scarf with evil eyes on it… must have it. Pangia’s new CD is out… must have it. Oooohhh… coin belts… I’ll wait on that one. Breasts are screaming to be put into bedleh… any bedleh… just try SOMETHING on!

11:00 PM: The evening is over. I have a new hip scarf and several new friends. I am disappointed by the lack of bedleh in a variety of price range. What I found was $6.2 million dollar Egyptian belt-less costumes and $1.99-looking stuff that appeared to be made in Taiwan. Yech.

11:30 PM: Arrive across the street to experience musician Carmine Guida’s after-party madness. I see faces I recognise… like Mesmira, Jim Boz & local dancers I know, like Sirrah, Maria, Samira. I get cozy and listen as Carmine & Pat from the Pangia band starts to play. Get swept up into a frenzy of dancing and a sisterhood of shimmies! Watch in gleeful awe as Fahtiem and Fatima al Wahid bounce down the carpeted steps to the rhythm of "Shashkin". I’m in sweaty bliss.

2:32 AM: Husband will kill me for sure…must stop dancing and head home.

Saturday, October 14th, 2006:
2:50 PM: Return because money is literally burning a hole in my pocket. Must put out the fire. Breasts are now very sad that they’ve only been in 1200 different bedleh and none have made them happy. Hips are no longer speaking to me. Feet have threatened to strike at a future date but are hanging in there.

4 PM: Still meandering, meeting, greeting and shopping. Visit with Suhaila Salimpour (who is so lovely and remembers me from our chat last year). Just being in her genuinely loving presence makes me feel warm all over…like anything’s possible… like I will become a better person and a better dancer just by standing before her… like I will find that bedelh that’s been evading me all weekend. Heck ladies… priorities!

2:59 PM: Starved, I stop for a snack of some hot tea and an apple. I want the 759 calorie cake that‘s quite literally calling my name… but I want to fit into that phantom bedleh. I go for the Gala Apple. Meander into the dining room and sit with Scott and Leni Wilson. Vigorously applaud his set of wonderful classic oud playing and singing. Discuss with lovely Leni how we can get more nazars, her work, my hair, her mother-in-law, my upcoming show at Figaro Café with Scott and his band. Out of the corner of my eye I see a familiar face, I smile and nod, oblivious to who this older gentleman is who’s eyeballing me. I go back to my chatter and apple, check again, he’s still gazing, I am a little startled. I go back to my yak and snack. I look and again and realize… oh… my… God… that’s Eddie "The Sheik" Kochak. As in Eddie "The Sheik" Kochak whose albums of classic Belly Dance music adorn my studio walls! Now I smile more broadly, nod more vigorously… at which time he realizes that he doesn’t recognize me after all and returns to his conversation. Sigh.

3:15 PM: The short rest and the apple have kicked in. I’m going to give it one more shot… I return for the bajillionth time to the Topkapi booth. The owner acts as though she’s not sick to death of my poking through her collection of affordable Turkish bras and belts. Bless her. Slightly to the left, I find a collection of higher-end Turkish stuff that I hadn‘t seen before… looks like Bella… or Sim Modi Evi, you know… the good stuff.
I drag myself to the ladies room to try it on. The bra gets RAVES from the collected goddesses around me. Apparently my rack looks magnificent. Still unsure about the belt and skirt… getting mixed reviews and can’t make a decision. Ah… technology… I whip out my phone, grab a complete stranger and ask her to please photograph me. Moments later, my husband, at yet another gig, has now seen the photo, polled the other members of the band and it’s unanimous… I look like a Queen and I have a new bedleh!

4 PM: Transactions done, I settle down to watch Fahtiem positively wow the crowd. Her side to side belly rolls are always awe-inspiring. Run into Layla Mary who gives thumbs up to my new costume. Meander past Ansuya’s table for the 17th time that day… she's been keeping tally and wants to know what else I bought.

5 PM: Just too pooped to party… time to hit the NJ Turnpike home.

Sunday, October 15th, 2006:
10 AM: Filled with inspiration, armed with several new CDs and my hip scarf, I head to class to teach my wide-eyed students everything I learned and fill their ears with tales of who I saw, what trends were hot, why they should go next year. Yes, sadly, it’s true: most didn’t attend this landmark event… but then again, most of them have never been to the Statue of Liberty either.

category-raks-sharqi
category-turkish-bellydance