As our plane landed in Egypt I felt nervous.  I didn’t know why, but my heart was pounding.  I guess I felt worried that my family would be unhappy and not let me forget the fact that I dragged them to Egypt when they really didn’t want to go at this time.  It was my selfish desire to bring my format to Egypt and to see first hand the festival that Raqia Hassan has built.  At least in Paris Andre could go out for beer and hang out.  What would he do in Egypt?  Being an Arab American himself made it even worse since he would know what each man was thinking.  But being the wonderful husband that he is we landed in Egypt with nothing expected but diarrhea.

After a smooth clearance and luggage pick up (which was our fist shocker) we headed outside to the van that was ready to pick us up from “Lady Egypt Travel Agency”.  Lady Egypt Travel Agency is the company that Raqia uses along with her festival just in case the attendees want to go site seeing outside of the hotel and festival venue.  We were so grateful to have them assist us in any way we needed. They would even assist us in ways we didn’t know we needed.  As the doors to the airport opened I felt the hot breeze that I remember from years ago followed by the “call to prayer”.  I closed my eyes and listened to the beautiful sounds that filled the city.  I felt like crying and as each “call to prayer” came through echoing one after the other. I just stood unable to move.  As my eyes were closed I felt my father.  He had died when I was 9 years old, but until the day he passed every Friday he would play the sounds of the Koran though the house.  Somehow it was soothing to me and I felt helpless and missed my father more than I have in years.  I lost time and it wasn’t until I opened my eyes to see Andre looking in a trance as well did I realize that we were truly Arab/Americans coming home.

The car ride to the hotel was almost fatal at least 5 times.  One time I felt in my bones that we were going to “hit” the car in front of us…. But we didn’t and don’t ask me how that happened.  The tour guide then proceeded to tell us that they don’t have accidents in Egypt, they have “scratches” and the street lights (ya know the ones that go from red to green to yellow and back to red again) are in Egypt for decoration and that the people have their own rules.  It was true and each time I got in the van I said a little prayer to the goddess.  The goddess must have been with us since the entire time we were in Egypt we didn’t see one accident, which seemed impossible.

By the time we got to the hotel we didn't notice (since it was dark) that the Pyramids were to our left.  We had to go through security (like at the airport) to our hotel since it is now a target (being a 5 star hotel).  I was sad and relieved all at the same time.  We put our luggage down and went to eat.  As the elevator was coming closer to the ground floor I heard pounding drums.  My hair stood on end and when the door opened it was a wedding in our lobby.  10 Muzhars and 2 mizmar players were singing and drumming the Zafa as the bride and groom walked through.  Isabella was speechless and I held her as we joined gaze at the bride and she waved to us.  I felt so lucky that Isabella was able to see a real Middle Eastern wedding march since it is rare in the United States to see this ritual any more.  I held her and with each step I was talking her through the tradition of the Egyptian wedding.  I could see in her eyes that one day she will want a full Arabic band for her wedding march.  I won’t mind at all.    

The next morning we woke up and I put on the TV to try and find cartoons for Isabella only to be stuck on an old black and white movie of Farid Al Atrash and Samia Gamal.  It was an old film I remember as a child and when Antoinette (my mother-in-law) came in the room she thought is was an old Lucy and Ricky movie until she was singing along with the songs she also grew up with.  We all sang and danced with Isabella looking at us like we were crazy.  I was so charmed by the fact that these movies that I grew on up were a part of the weekend movies on Egyptian TV. 

Isabella had been so wonderful the whole trip, but it was the pool that was her main motivation for “being good” so I had to make honest of my promise to take her.  I don’t think I was prepared for the backdrop of our “5 star” pool.  The hotel and service for Le Meridian were outstanding, but to look up while swimming and see the Pyramids were truly magical.  I was in awe and felt so lucky to have this opportunity in my life and to share with my family.   
 

Later was shopping at Khan El Khalili Bazaar.  It was dirty, clean, magical, sad, loving, kind, and scary all at the same time (just the way I like it).  I was laughing at myself at my deep desire to buy all the silly little trinkets that were pushed on you in Egypt since when I would see those same trinkets in the States I thought they were so ridiculous.  Somehow in Egypt those same statues, dolls, papyrus art, and King Tut pens looked so amazing and almost impossible to resist.  I did, however, resist and I saved my shopping for two things; gold and costumes.  You have to know what stores to shop at and I was lucky to have recommendations from other dancers and also a wonderful tour guide.  Without those two things you are finished in Egypt. 

There were three days before the festival was to begin and I was still not sure what time my classes were and what Raqia wanted me to teach.  In the States I know the time, location, format, and system.  In Egypt I was told that it would all “work out”.  I was just concerned that I wouldn’t show up for my own workshop since I didn’t know when it was.  Since Momo Kadous is the one that set up my Ahlan Wa Sahlan experience I called him and asked what to do.  He told me not to worry, “It will all work out”.  He said “In Egypt it is the only time that I know when I am teaching right after I have taught the class”.  I laughed and then understood that it had been a long time since I had worked in any capacity in the Middle East.  I had to let go and just trust “it would all work out”.  In the Middle East there is a word “Malish” which means “it’s all okay, no worries”.  So it was Malish Malish all day long and I had to release any control desires I had. 

Since I was unable to control a darn thing and it would all be “Malish”, then I focused on my site seeing, camel rides, and museum hopping.  The country is truly amazing and I guess my other visits before were for just working and performing which means I did not spend time focusing on being a tourist and experiencing the beauties of Egypt.  Isabella was so excited and scarred to ride a camel, but when we got to the stables it was our friend Monica Ing that made the most hysterical scream while getting on the camel that Isabella had to calm her down (along with three other camel stable men).  Getting on a camel for the first time is an experience for anyone and nothing can prepare you for the thrill.  When we got all of us on our camels we waited until sunset to begin the tour around the pyramids.  The path on the camels to get to the pyramids was totally unexpected.  We had to ride through a little area in town called “people living with the dead”.  It was an old grave-yard that was now the home of one of the two most poverty stricken areas in Egypt.  It was truly shocking to see this kind of poverty since the poverty in the United States doesn’t even come close to the circumstances that people living in a third world country can endure.  Isabella was shocked and kept asking me how we can help them.  I was speechless and tried to tell her that we will do the best we can.  In on moment I felt ashamed to be wearing my gold bangles and as I passed this one old woman sitting up against a tombstone she yelled out to me in Arabic “give me one of those bangles so I can eat”.  My heart sank and I pulled my shirt down to hide my inconsiderate arms.  It was the horrible smell of the dead horse that was unbelievable.  While we passed the dead horse Isabella turned her face and I tried to convince her that the horse was just sleeping.  I know she didn’t believe me.  The experience of watching the sunset while riding our camels around the pyramids was breathtaking.  The experience getting to the pyramids made us appreciate our existence. 

When we got back to our hotel room I could see that Isabella was very much affected by all the poverty in the country.  I think it was the first day we arrived and while stopped in “Egyptian traffic” a little gypsy girl (around 5 years old) ran up to the car and started screaming in Arabic “please buy a tissue from me so I can feed my family”.  While reciting these words she was pointing to her tissue box and then pointing to her heart.  She had a traditional Egyptian housedress and no shoes while trying to balance a bag of potato chips in the same hand as the tissue to munch on chips while also trying to “work”.  Isabella had her image burned into her memory and each day we would talk about how lucky she was to be able to go to school and play and take dance classes.  Even though I want to protect my child from the sadness of the world, I felt that it was also good for her to see the reality of the rest of the planet and how we must never take anything for granted.    
 

That night I received a call from Momo that Raqia would like to meet me before the festival began (which was in two days).  I was excited and was waiting for this opportunity.  Through all her travels in the United States I had not yet been able to meet Raqia and I was anxiously waiting this moment.  I had heard so much about her and had witnessed many of her beautiful choreographies before plus knowing that she was the queen of knee pumping.  We were to meet at her house so I had a task of finding fresh flowers before we arrived which I found out is quite an ordeal in Egypt. 

As we drove to Raqia’s home I kept thinking of how amazing it was that this festival existed.  Never before had a “belly dance festival” happened in Egypt and the best part is that the producer is a woman!  Not just any woman, but a dancer herself.  Now if you know anything about Middle Eastern culture you will know that this task is not for anyone (man or woman).  You must be strong beyond belief, connected with all the right people, trusted by the people of the country, as well as have an artistic vision and integrity to uphold the honor of the Egyptian people.  No matter what anyone feels artistically you must understand what this woman has accomplished is ground breaking and history in the making.  I felt honored to be a part of this journey that Raqia has decided to make her destiny and I wanted to pay her the proper respects that she deserved for caring enough about the art to even take on a task like this one. 

As we pulled up to Raqia’s flat I adjusted Isabella’s outfit, fixed Andre’s neckline and fluffed my skirt.  I guess I wanted to make a good impression.  We walked up the stairs and I could hear her talking from the ground floor all the way up the stairs into her apartment.  I laughed to myself because only a woman able to be heard from the bottom floor up to the second floor could produce this festival.  When the door opened she was smiling from ear to ear.  She was more interested in giving Isabella a hug than anyone else.  She was gracious and hospitable and I couldn’t believe she was taking the time to meet me with all that she had to do just days before the festival began.  When my mother produced festivals (back in the early 70’s when no one did them in the States) I couldn’t even talk to her for one month before and one month after (since she would come down with the flu the next day after the festival ended) so my admiration for Festival producers are huge. 

She led us in her typical Egyptian flat and we sat down in her living room.  She was very casual with us and I felt like I had known her all my life.  She asked me questions about my mom and my touring and we exchanged stories of “life on the road”.  Then not minutes went by and the doorbell rang.  She was up and running leaving us with tea and chocolates to entertain ourselves.  Isabella ended up in her bedroom watching movies and I would check on her now and then only to be told, “I’m fine mom”.

Before coming to Egypt, Isabella was disappointed to hear that children were not allowed to dance.  Momo had to break the news while at Rakkasah and she looked at me for confirmation sure that it was a joke.  My heart sank since at this moment since it was the first time in her life she had to deal with the fact that the world didn’t accept and appreciate her dance.  “He’s lying right mom”? Isabella asked and I had to break the news that not all people think that dance is okay in different cultures.  I had to explain that not only was it illegal for children to dance in Egypt, but it was also illegal for non-Egyptians to dance in Egypt (unless having a permit which is hard to come by).  She got angry and refused to believe such a thing since she was third generation belly dancer and had been raised to be proud of her family and love of the dance.  “Can you tell them I’m really good so they allow ME to dance”.  I laughed and gave her a hug and said, “we will see what we can get away with”.  Upon arriving in Raqia’s home she was ready to confront who she felt she needed in order to get the green light to dance.  I kept holding her off from the attack and it wasn’t long before the doorbell rang again.

When Raqia came back in the living room this time she was arm in arm with the beautiful Nagwa Fouad.  I had not seen Nagwa since I was 18 years old and she looked better than ever.  The last time we meet was in L.A. while I was dancing at Byblos and she brought me up on stage with her for a vibration stand off.  It was one of the most memorable moments of my life and now to be standing in front of this legend was thrilling.  Nagwa came by just to say hello.  I yelled for Isabella and when Isabella walked into the room I explained to her that when I was her age I use to watch films and movies of Nagwa and dreamed of the day when I could grow up and be just like Nagwa Fouad.  Isabella shook her hand and Nagwa bent down and said “I hear you are a great dancer” and Isabella’s eyes widened and said “yes I am, and I hope to dance this week too”.  We all laughed and Isabella didn’t know what was so funny.  We sat and chit chatted about things and Raqia seemed very interested in how my mother created “Tribal”.  I wasn’t expecting that question but in a very organic response I said, “she was just dancing and teaching, it wasn’t a thought process”.  She got it.

This night was filled with reporters, old friends, family, and teachers of the festival coming in and out of her home and I couldn’t believe how hospitable she was.  I know that it is the Egyptian way to be kind and always have an open house, but I felt like she needed a deep tissue message and I should be cooking dinner for her.  We got up to leave and I had to ask, “What do you want me to teach”?  She looked at me confused and said, “You are Suhaila, and you can teach what ever you want”.  I never thought of that and responded with “oh…okay”. 

When we left Raqia’s I still didn’t know when my classes were.  By this point I knew it was Malish.  I felt in awe and had total respect for this woman.  Not only were children not allowed to dance, but also I wasn’t really either.  None of us were.  She had to get permits for all of us to teach, perform, and enjoy the festival.  Her love for the dance and respect for herself as an artist gave her the strength to fight for the rights of us all for that one week each year.  We are fully protected and have ever freedom to enjoy the culture, music, classes, costumes, and dancing under the roof of the Mena House Hotel and under the wing of Raqia.  I couldn’t have felt more protected and honored to be a part of this event.  We just wished it could be all year round.  But as Raqia puts it “it is a start”. 

Before leaving her flat I asked her one question, “Why don’t you have a school in Egypt”.  She looked at me like I was out of my mind and informed me that for years she has been begging to be allowed to open a dance school in Egypt.  It would be her dream.  She reminded me of how lucky I am that I can just open a dance school any place I like.  Gee, I hadn’t even thought of that.  I thought she didn’t want to or didn’t care to open a dance school.  I felt so clueless at this very moment and shook my head in embarrassment of my stupid question.  I guess I get so caught up in thinking that belly dance for me is like belly dance all over the world that I forgot that it is a gift that even in the mother land shouldn’t be taken for granted.