To talk about bellydancing. :bdance:

Because I didn’t get to talk about it last week. See, the first week, I was kind of excited and nervous for bellydancing. And then…I get to where I thought it was held and the building is dark. There are people going in to an alternate entrance but they’re all wearing business suits and heels. I’m fairly certain this is not the bellydancing crowd. So I wait for ten minutes, to see if anyone shows up wearing something that doesn’t have…ties and heels and looks more like excercise clothes. Alas, no such person arrives so I leave and go where any person who expects to go bellydancing and then doesn’t goes…to Wal-mart 🙂

Several days later, I find out that 1) I was about 20 minutes early for class and 2) I was indeed in the right place, dammit.

So last week was my first week (though the second week of class) and now I’m very nervous because I’m going to be “behind”. But the instructor did a repeat of the first week, with teaching basic moves. I came away with a nice glow and the feeling that this might be fun.

Last night was the third class and in this class we learned the first two combinations in the 2 minute dance we’re learning during the semester. Now, let me be clear. I’m a clod. I’m not at all light on my feet. My body isn’t fluid and bendy. It’s stiff and…not-bendy. My instructor isn’t a small woman but she’s graceful and her movements flow. I look like a herd of elephants moving around the room. I’m happy to report that the other students are in much the same boat as me so I don’t feel alone in my cloddishness 😛 But regardless, I love this class.

I love how enthusiastic the teacher is for her craft, how she wants to tell us as much as she can in the time she has. Class doesn’t start until 7:15 and is supposed to be an hour long. I got there at 7 last night and she was giving informal information about costuming. I didn’t leave until 8:45 because she just kept teaching us. Truthfully, I think she would have gone as long as we wanted, but some of the other women wanted to be done (darn them). She’s generous with her time and enthusiasm, and that’s contagious.

I also like how the act of learning something new, stretching my boundaries (and sweating) makes me feel. I may not be very good at it, but by God, I’m enjoying every minute of the learning (and even the burning, aching muscles). And I like to think, if I keep at it, and practice, that maybe some day I’ll be able to shimmy across the room without feeling as though I’m going to throw one of my hips out of joint.

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