In order to talk about the belly dancing movement in San Francisco, I have to describe the scene that was taking place in the United States and in Los Angeles which, I believe, preceded the professional club and cabaret show that eventually took place in San Francisco.

From the late 1940's to the late 1950's, Middle Eastern music and dance were virtually unknown to Americans. However, it flourished in small pockets where immigrants representing a variety of countries from the Arab world, would gather together to celebrate social or religious customs. Their nationalities were a common bond, and, whenever they met, music and dance were included in their festivities.

What America knew of Middle Eastern music and dance was through the distorted music productions of Hollywood. Yvonne De Carlo and Rita Hayworth were featured in several Biblical blockbusters, choreographed by Hollywood modern jazz dancers, who interpreted Middle Eastern dance in jerky spasms which were painful to watch. After seeing Rita Hayworth in Salome, I thought,"was I the only one who knew of Egyptian films being shown monthly in Los Angeles? Or wasn't anyone interested in authenticity?"

In the late 1940's , the Egyptian household I lived in, managed to survive in America, but they didn't mingle with Americans. They worked among Americans and when they came home their first language was Armenian, (they were Armenians from Egypt) the second was Turkish, (when they didn't want their children to know what they were saying) and the third was Arabic when they spoke with friends from Egypt. The house was filled with Arabic music; Mohammed Abdel Wahab, Om Kalthoum and the like were played over and over again on worn out 78's.

Once a month we went to see Egyptian movies at La Tosca theatre. Records of the music from the films were sold in the lobby. When we got home we would put the records on and immitate the dancers we had seen in the films. I taught myself to play finger cymbals. My landlady Anoosh made me a costume and I was available to dance whenever the occasion arose. I was around twenty one years old at the time.

In the late 1940's, before there were any Middle Eastern clubs in Los Angeles, I performed at the few functions which featured Orientale Danse, as it was then called by the natives. Once a year I danced at the Turkish New Year party; performed monthly at the Armenian Old Age Home; for the A.G.B.U., Armenian Great Benevolent Union, and at private parties and the like. There were no real professional musicians in town. Groups got together because music was their hobby and not their profession. And so it was that my musicians consisted of the Hanna Brothers orchestra, auto mechanics by day, and the musicians of choice whenever an occasion called for them to play. If they needed an extra musician on Oud or Kanoon or darbouka they knew an amateur who wanted to sit in. They weren't Abdel Wahab but they had soul.

Around 1947 and for the next ten years, any news of Middle Eastern music and dance activity was sent through the Middle Eastern grapevine. Every Sunday a radio station from Fresno broadcasted a news and music program which opened with a familiar peshrof which we all hummed. Harout's Har Omar, an Armenian restaurant on Ivar Street and Sunset Boulevard, featured the brother and sister act of Hurach and FlorenceYacoubian on violin and piano. Once a week on KFAC, Mr. Yegeshay Harout would present one half hour of music from Armenia and the Middle East, and would include both Folk and classical. The announcer was noted for his dramatic voice and the program would begin A loaf of bread, a jug of wine, and thou beside me in the wildnerness, and wildnerness is paradise enou Other quotes from Omar Khayyam would embellish the program which every Armenian would listen to who was within the radius of the transmitter of KFAC. Zetrac, who owned the Turkish coffee house on 6th street would tune into Harout and so would Zabelle who sewed for celebrities in the Armenian community and so would Annoush and her family, including myself. And so it was months in advance of her arrival in the United States that the Middle Eastern community was to hear of the future appearance of"Rosemarie", Orientale dancer,"sings in six languages.all the way from Egypt, accompanied by the well-known orchestra, the Hanna Brothersat the Wilshire Ebell Theatre At last, we were to see her in person, dancing to live music. We got our tickets well enough in advance so there was no mistaking our seats were reserved.

When the day came to see the famous"Rosemarie," tape recorders weighing a ton were carted to the theatre. In those days private individuals were few and far between who could afford to own one. We had balcony seats, front center, good seats for an auditoriun that seated about three thousand. We were early and the lights were still up so we looked around to see who was sitting where before the show started. It was nearing the time to begin and except for our group, there were about twenty people in the balcony. Down below there were a handful of people and the time had come to begin..and we waitedand waitedand waitedand became aware that there was going to be a poor turnout. When it became apparent that no more people were coming everyone in the balcony agreed that we should move downstairs, closer to the music. I can't remember much about Rosemarie's dance. I was twenty four or so at the time. She was the first dancer I ever saw in person. She didn't play finger cymbals. Uncle Vahan said she was upset when he taped her show without an agreement beforehand and that terms had to be reached so he could keep the tape. Zetrac invited her to his house for a musical evening and I was introduced to her as an aspiring"Orientale"dancer. At her request I danced for her. She was gentle in her criticisms of my"routine"and made suggestions about my arms, attitude, and steps. The one thing she showed me which I couldn't ever do was a figure eight going slowly all the way to the floor and all the way up again. We lost track of her whereabouts except for a brief sight of her at a newly opened club on Sunset Boulevard called"Thousand And One Nights"where we heard she was to work. I never saw her dance again.

There had been other Orientale programs given from time to time. One of the most memorable was of Shah Barovian, a Persian Armenian tar player who performed at the Wilshire Ebell. I can still hear his beautiful rendition of"Naz Bar". It seemed the entire audience could sing along. It was about 1950 or so. From Fresno, Richard Hagopian, a young virtuoso on the Oud, was being compared to the great Oudi Harant. It would be a few years yet until I would dance to his music in a nightclub in Fresno.

The Town and Country Market on La Cienega below Melrose had a Middle Eastern restaurant which featured music and folk dancing on weekends but no belly dancers. We went there a few times and joined in a dabke weaving in and out of the tables. There were programs in which a woman by the name of Khanza Omar would perform feats which one had to see to believe. It was said that aside from being a great dancer, she could do marvelous backbends and pick up chairs in her teeth, straighten, and continue dancing at the same time while holding the chair between her teeth. In later years I saw a documentary of dancers from Egypt which had a sequence taken in a tent outside the area of the pyramids called The Balloon Caféor something like that. One of the dancers, dressed in Asiute from head to toe, and playing enormous finger cymbals, descended to the floor in double shimmies, leaned forward still keeping time to the music with her cymbals, and picked up a table with her teeth, balancing it high in the air while she danced. I was never to see the beloved Khanza Omar. To everyone's surprize, she died the weekend before the Arab community was to present her in a show called,"ExtravaKhanza."It was said that she was a Moroccan princess. Occasionally she worked as an extra in movies. Another Orientale dancer called Delalah Mur, who resided somewhere in Los Angeles, taught dance and had a troupe. I never saw her perform.

I was about twenty six when I decided to learn to play the Oud. Going about finding a teacher was another story and again I had to thank Anoosh for finding Mr. Levonian who was willing to teach me to play Oud. I really wanted to learn Egyptian style but Levonian played in the Turkish style. It was either him or nothing. I remember him complaining about a dancer by the name of Karoon Tootikian who wanted him to compose music for her. It upset him that she wanted him to put harmony in his composition and he would say our music is innocent she should leave it alone!!"

From what I could gather about her dancing, she was an interpretive Armenian folk dancer. I heard her specialty was a whirling dervish dance which was easy for her to do since she had an eye condition which made her legally blind. One time she miscalculated the dimensions of the stage at the Wilshire Ebell and, while performing her whirling dervish dance, she fell into the orchestra pit.

From Boston came tales of two clubs where business was booming, Khayyam and club Zarra, which featured middle eastern music and dance. Stories of the ongoing feud between the Lebanese singer Morocco and the fiery Algerian dancer Bedeah were reported weekly by the press, who were always baiting them, hoping to create a catfight. The Greek Village opened on Hollywood Boulevard. They hired my musicians but didn't want a belly dancer. The owners were from the East Coast. The wife of the owner sang and would do a Cifte Telli in street clothes. They had a daughter who looked like Sophia Loren. She wore low cut blouses and accompanied the musicians on a conga drum. It didn't matter or not if she could play. The sight of her was worth the price of admission.

Fawzia Emir and her sister Emira Emir were performing on the East coast. Ahmad Jarjour followed then around longing to dance like them or with them. Years later he was to realize his dream when he created the first and original male/female dance team, which, with his first partner, Lisa, he starred with Buddy and Mike Sarkissian in Las Vegas. Larry Potter's supper club on Ventura Boulevard put an ad in"Key"magazine announcing the appearance of"Atash", a Turkish dancer who was also a contortionist. I wasn't too happy about her photographs with pasties and see-through pantaloons. Before I could get to see her she was wisked off to New York to be the featured dancer in a new musical called"Fanny." She used her full name then which was Najila Atash. Samia Gamal came to Los Angeles without her musicians and performed a few times at a club on Sunset. She had a bit in a movie dancing at a bazaar way in the background. It might have been all of ten seconds long. I think the movie was King Solomons Mines. The Greek Village changes owners. Betty Dascolatis and Yourdani pack them in. With the opening of the Fez in Hollywood, the Bellydancing craze begins.