It's alive!

Awww... doesn't it take will power to resist giving it a hug?

Hatchli Hatchli on the wall

It has been a dreary rainy week which effectively eliminated any thought of doing anything outdoors. We took the opportunity to do some long overdue D-I-Y projects in the home.

For a start, we finally got our hatchli's wall-mounted. These are door rugs originally used to cover the entrances of turkoman tents.

I am sooo impressed with the man's talent as a handyman!

We have two more blank walls to cover. Any guess what will go up on those?

Pain in the ...

It started with a vague ache near my left heel that was tender to the touch. I ignored it the past two days and carried on with my usual dance practice.

By this morning, I was not able to bend my foot downward nor walk properly. I was actually limping!

The man, my in-house doctor and personal attending physician, pronounced his diagnosis. I have achilles tedonitis. How did it happen? Apparently, it is a common injury caused by overuse of dorsiflexing the foot.

The crushing blow is that this is an injury that must not be worked through, or I will actually rupture the achilles tendon. In which case it is surgery and living in a lower leg-foot cast for a couple of months.

I am now on paracetemol (doctor's orders) and hot compress. And limping. It is the limping that is getting to me.

D-I-Y Popiah

There is no labour saving method to making a good popiah.

First the filling. All ingredients - bangkuang, carrot, bamboo shoot - have to be finely julienned and then slowly stewed in stock.

Then there is a long list of favourite condiments to complement the filling - prawn, lap cheong, crushed peanut, shredded omelet or hard boiled egg, bean sprout, cucumber.

Finish with just the right balance of sweet sauce, pounded chilli, minced garlic.

All this to be wrapped tightly in paper-thin dough skin that must be soft yet resilient.

So when the girlfriend said to come over for her mother's homemade popiah, I was delighted. When she said her mother has not done this in 10 years, I was touched.

I have friends over for dinner frequently. But the last time I made popiah dinner was when I turned 21. That was a v-e-r-y long time ago.

Why Bellydance?

Bellydance is performance art at its best. The dance form is grace, self-expression, communication and connection all at the same time.

Bellydance is fun at any level. It is always a crowd pleaser and nearly always elicit a response of "Wow, did you see that? How did she do that?"

Bellydance is self-affirming. No bellydancer is ever too old, too fat, too ugly, too klutzy. The beauty in a bellydancer is reachable, accessible, understandable. Every bellydancer knows she is beautiful.

Bellydance is a skill that is uniquely yours and can never be taken from you.

So, I may be involved in several other dance forms but I will always have bellydance in my life.

My DNA says

Following on the heels of imp and wildgoose, here is

my personal DNA report.

What scary stuff I never knew about myself :)

Bellydance bellyache

I attend bellydance dinner-shows every chance I can. These are typically small productions by individuals who usually own and operate their own bellydance schools.

There has always been hitches with these events:

1. The quality of the shows is inconsistent.
2. The line-up of performers can change without notice or explanation.
3. The producers have unmanageable egos and are prone to throwing temper fits at their paying guests.
4. The producers impose nonsensical restrictions on paying guests (eg your friends from another table may not sit at your table even if you have empty seats).
5. The shows use this one singularly corny, sexist, insufferable bore of an MC.

I put up with these bad practices because

- I want to support the producers who bring in these shows.
- It is a chance to see some of the best talents in the world of bellydance.
- I love the dance and the dancers.
- Many of my bellydance friends generously donate their time to these shows.
- It is always a time to catch up with friends.

I was looking forward to attending one such event. I persuaded some friends to join me, and one of them volunteered to get the tickets. Nothing went right:

- The ticket price was not as posted on their website. An oversight, so claimed the flunky who was managing the ticket sales.
- Then the flunky claimed the show was completely sold out.
- Then the flunky changed his mind and said there were still tickets available.
- But the tickets were not with him at the time.
- The producer had all the tickets with her.
- The producer was in Perth.
- So, the flunky blithely told my friend, she would just have to come back another day.

NO!

Neither the friend, nor any one of us for that matter, will come back another day to repeat this exercise in time-wasting. In fact, we will not be attending any more bellydance dinner-shows if they are not better organised, managed and presented.

There comes a time when I cannot and must not make excuses for shoddy treatment and pay for that dubious privilege. That time is now.

the 7th of the 7th 07

This is a record breaking day for weddings. I am not at any of them. How come?

Oh well, I'll get over it :)

May all you newly-weds have many happy years together.

Breaking silence

We were all regulars at this place.

I considered her a big star at the mike as she belted out hits from the Carpenters, Helen Reddy, Carol King. I thought she was awesome, so confident of herself as she made the rounds - introducing herself to newcomers, catching up with news and gossip with the regulars.

I chose to be deaf when she would relish in revealing dirty little secrets of any and everybody. I chose to ignore her lurid re-telling of her sex life with the worthless bum that she so obviously adored. I told myself everybody enjoys a little juicy gossip to spice up their lives.

But I had to re-assess my favourable impression of her when she attempted to insinuate rivalry between friends when none existed. Initial mild annoyance quickly escalated to watchful alarm before eventually graduating to outright rejection of her from our lives.

I hear of her life unravelling. The bum was openly running around on her; her once illustrious career has stalled; she has put on a ton of weight.

I want to feel some sympathy. But she persists in pushing all the wrong buttons with us. She takes malicious pleasure in creating discord with semi-truths if not outright lies every chance she gets.

I see her now as an insanely jealous vile fat ugly unloved and unlovable old fool.

I finally accept the fact that she had always wished bad things upon us.

I find vindication in breaking silence today.

My gallery

I would dump the new relationship.

There will be too much baggage to overcome. I am not willing to recant or renounce anything of my history.

I am who I am today because of everything I have lived through.

I am entitled to be me.

I can dance

She phoned out of the blue. I have not heard from the girlfriend in months.

But our relationship is like that. We were schoolmates. We move in different professional and social circles. We get together for the occasional lunch or dinner a handful of times a year.

She was organising a thank-you and birthday party for special friends. She thought it would be a wonderful idea if I'd bellydance for them.

Caught totally unprepared, my immediate response was like, "No lah. I have no time to prepare."

She, ever the wise and patient one, simply and quietly said, "Look, why don't you think about it and call me back? It would mean a lot to me."

I got to thinking:

- It was a sincere request from an old friend.
- It would be false modesty on my part to refuse on the basis that I am "not good enough".
- Even more lame to say I have no time to prepare.
- I did not even have firm plans for the weekend.

In other words, there was no good reason to say no, only selfish ones. In fact, there was every reason to say yes:

1. My girlfriend thought enough of my ability to ask me.
2. Bellydance is always a crowd pleaser.
3. I can bellydance.

This group turned out to be a very responsive and receptive audience. The ladies readily warmed to the dance. They were thrilled to try; we were all ecstatic to manage a little choreography so everyone became an instant bellydancer.

I remember again why I love dance - it brings joy to everybody. I am grateful I can dance. And even more grateful for the chance to share this joy.