The measure of Eman

O.K. Let's get real here....
It's been way WAY WAY to long since I last posted. For that, I am sorry.
So, since my last post, I've started belly dancing again. But in a ballsy twist (oh, ouch... ballsy twist) I have signed up a the class with one of my co-workers.
What better way to get to know people in the office than to shake your ass with them, right?
That's how I've made all my friends in that past anyhow.
So tonight, was class number two and I am very impressed with the way my co-worker, Ms. Biz, is workin' it.
She's all: hip- POP- hip- POP! Would you believe she did all this with a yard-stick on her head?!
This class is a little different than the last style of belly dance I took. It's more folksy, hence the yard-stick.
Wait, what? Yard-stick does not equal folksy.
The yard-stick is supposed to be a stand-in for a cane - or LATER ON, swords.(Notice the emphasis on LATER ON!)
But no, as I was waiting my turn for the yard stick (hip- POP -hip - POP)
one of the instructer's batty assistants approaches me with a sword she brought from home.
Before I know what's going on she's balancing the damn thing on my head!!!
Now granted, it is not sharpened, but it is metal, with a big-ass handle and pointy tip.
I could've easily turned, or ducked, or simply have said "no thanks," but really, what kind of story would that have made?
She's got me walking forward towards her - coaxing me along saying "don't worry, I'll catch it if it slips."
Out of the corner of my eye I see the gold handle, and I all I can think about is a set of brass knuckles aimed opportunistically at my right temple.
"Now turn in a circle," she says.
As I turn, I learn once the thing starts to spin, peek you eyes in the opposite direction, (ONLY YOUR EYES, NOT YOUR HEAD) and the sword will re-balance. Sweet.
Admittedly, this sword thing was fun.
But I have to say, with this whole belly dancing thing, there is a line that must be drawn by us white gals.
As my old instructor (Eman from Jordan)used to say: "Now zeez next move, you will not be able to do very goot. Because you do not have zee Arab blood in your body. Only zee Arab people really know zeez move."
I think she probably would've said that about the sword situation.
A sword on your head, a jewel in you belly button and some grown-out stringy Caucasian hair does not make you legitimate in the art of "zee belly dance".
I dance to move differently, to hear different beats and to learn a little something about the world beyond me. In no way do I want, or think it's possible, for me to somehow inherit this culture.
I don't think the sword lady embraces this concept very well.
The yard-stick however, I guess I could get down with that. It seems, somehow, fitting.