The Lesser of Two Evils

“El-Tet” 24/7 Belly Dance TV

Sorry, this is going to be long. I have a lot to say. 

If there’s anything positive coming out of post-revolutionary Egypt, it is the new belly dance channel, “El-Tet.”  Based in Bahrain with an office in Cairo, El-Tet features performances by Egyptian and foreign belly dancers 24 hours a day. That’s right. Shimmies and undulations around the clock on national Egyptian TV. The channel, which is a little over a year old, takes its name from the Egyptian Arabic word for the accordion/tabla section of a baladi piece. It is actually pronounced “tit,” but for obvious reasons, you’ll almost always see it transliterated as “El-Tet.”  Short “e,” not “i.”

I first encountered the new channel last December, when some of my musicians insisted they had seen me dancing on TV. I hadn’t heard of the channel before, and I had no idea why they were saying this, although I found the idea of a channel named “The Tit” quite hilarious. So, I assumed they probably saw another dancer who resembled me. I was right. My tabla player showed me the clip of the dancer in question, and sure enough, it wasn’t me. I don’t know how he confused us, but then again, Egyptians tend to think all of us foreigners look alike.

Dancing to "Ya Helwa Sabah" on El-Tet

 

That night, I went home and tuned in to El-Tet. It felt weird watching so many non-Egyptian dancers, a lot of whom I know, dancing on my Egyptian TV set. From the US, I recognized Sadie, Sabah, and Virginia. I saw Saida from Argentina. From Eastern Europe, I saw Maria Shashkova, Dariya, and a bunch of other Russian and Ukrainian dancers I had never heard of.  Huh. How did that work? Were they YouTube clips? Did dancers outside of Egypt know about the channel and submit their videos? Why weren’t any of the foreign dancers working in Egypt featured? Most importantly, I wondered, where were the Egyptian dancers? 

Suddenly, as if to answer that last question, the channel aired a series of performances by Egyptian belly dancers. No big names or anything. Just average dancers on the market. Out of the five Egyptians featured on El-Tet, I knew one and liked two. Their performances were nothing extraordinary, but I was happy to see them on the channel. Unlike the foreigners, they were filmed on location by the channel production team. The first time around, the team rented out some space and hired a band. Only, the band didn’t actually play. The musicians merely took their places behind the dancers, pretending to play while the dancers performed to CD. Sort of like lip syncing. Each dancer shot three or four clips—one or two alongside a singer, and two or three by herself. Most of the songs they danced to were newer shaabi songs that you hear in cabarets and tuk-tuks—you know, those tiny, black, box-looking vehicles that buzz around Cairo’s streets. And the dancing was more Haram cabaret-style dancing than raqs shaqi, but oh well. Tis the state of the art. 

 

Commercial Controversy

After watching El-Tet for two days, I started taking note of the commercials. Interestingly, these commercials became the pretext for the arrest of the channel’s owner of last week (he has been released by the way). These are in-your-face, obnoxious, homemade commercials that almost exclusively advertise all types of products for sexual enhancement, penile and breast enlargement, and magic potions for this or that problem. The commercial for erectile dysfunction is my personal favorite. It features the before and after pictures of a man with a long, drooping mustache glued down with gel. The after picture shows the mustache flipping directions and steadily rising upward. Subtle, huh? There are also ads for lie detectors and X-Ray cameras (both of which I’d love to buy).   

All kidding aside, the ads are in poor taste. I mean, maybe if they were a little more subtle and professionally done, they would be acceptable. But when combined with the personals that scroll at the bottom of the screen during dancers’ performances, they become a little revolting. Not to mention, they give the channel and the dance an undeserved negative image.

Taking a look at the footage with the producer

Great. I said what needed to be said. I echoed the sentiments of many belly dancers around the world who think the channel is sleazy, and who were happy the owner was arrested for airing these commercials. Now hear me out on why I support, or rather, why I’m willing to overlook the existence of these ads.

Simply put, El-Tet is faced with the option of accepting ads for sexual products, on the one hand, or shutting down, on the other. In my not-so-humble opinion, keeping the channel running on sleazy ads is the lesser of the two evils. Not only is this channel bringing the dance back to the people, but it is an advancement for the art, the culture, and women. Conversely, this channel represents a slap in the face for religious fanaticism, misogyny, ignorance, and hate. I therefore applaud the channel owner for bucking against the tide of religious fanaticism that is taking the country by storm.

As anyone in the media industry knows, ads are an indispensable source of funding. No ads, no money. No money, no media outlet. Right now, these ads are the only source of revenue available to the fledgling belly dance channel. Since belly dancing is tantamount to prostitution in Egypt, no respectable companies are willing to advertise on a channel that features belly dancing. No mobile phone or furniture company in its right mind would pay to have their products associated with belly dancing. To make matters worse, El-Tet does not take money from any of its artists. Even if it did, it would not be enough to sustain the channel. The owner is thus forced to accept these ads in order to keep his channel alive. Personally, I’m willing to forgive that. Since the channel does more good than harm, we might consider accepting that at this point and time in history, it needs to operate under less than ideal circumstances. 

 

Culture War?

More importantly, however, I see the El-Tet incident as the latest in a larger culture war that is raging in Egypt. Since the fall of former President Hosni Mubarak, religious fanatics have attacked Egyptian culture in ways that Egypt has never seen before. They are challenging everything from belly dancing to cinema to Pharaonic culture. Not even the Sphinx is immune to this! (link).  Indeed, before the arrest of El-Tet’s owner, famous Egyptian actor Adel Imam was facing a prison sentence for blasphemy. Additionally, the beard mafia physically assaulted cinema students at Ain Shems University for staging a reenactment of the Sadat years. Many cabarets have either been burnt down and bought out by religious groups, or closed for lack of business. And hotels like the Grand Hyatt and Mena House have cancelled their belly dance shows altogether. You can read more about this kind of stuff here.  

Similarly, last week’s arrest was an attack on the belly dancing and on women. Though the owner was arrested on charges of “facilitating prostitution” (because of the personals ads that scroll on the bottom of the dance clips), the real “problem” is that there are half-naked women gyrating on national TV. And we all know how religious people feel about that. Viewers did complain about the ads, yes, but that merely gave the authorities a weapon with which to attack the channel. This becomes clear in light of the fact that Egypt already has a TV station broadcasting personals around the clock, and that the morality police have not made a fuss about it. This is probably because those ads only contain text, which not everyone can read. But mostly everyone can see. Hence the problem with the belly dance channel. I’m willing to bet most viewers are too busy watching the dancers to even notice the scrolling ads. 

Lest you think I’m defending the channel because I did some video shoots for it, rest assured there is no self-interest here whatsoever. Even before I was invited to dance for the channel, I realized what a major advancement it was for the dance, and more importantly, for Egypt. If anything, my collaboration with El-Tet has given me a rare opportunity to really get to know its production team and its intentions, which I believe are nothing but the best. 

 

My Experience with El-Tet

Contrary to what I expected, every person working on this production is decent and respectable.  There are no slime balls, as one has become accustomed to encountering in the Egyptian dance industry. From the channel owner himself to the producers and makeup artists, each person is committed to promoting belly dance as an art. What is even more remarkable is that they spend thousands of dollars to make sure the videos they shoot are both pleasing and respectable. If you take a look at the videos, you’ll see they are filmed in beautiful villas replete with fireplaces, tasteful furniture, clocks, confetti(!), etc. They are trying their best to create a positive image.

Working with the team was a pleasure. Both of the times I was invited to film, I showed up on location with my costumes. The production team would then sift through them and pick the ones they liked best. They were especially intrigued by my newspaper costume and asked me to wear it. 

Getting made up by "El-Tet's" makeup artist before the shoot

I didn’t know what to expect from the first shoot. I arrived at the villa at 10 am, hungry and tired… and downed one too many Nescafes while waiting to have my makeup done. There were four other dancers in the villas well. Egyptians. Two were being filmed. The two other were doing hair and makeup. After quite a long wait, it was my turn for makeup. However, the makeup and hair artists were under strict orders to keep me looking “foreign.” That meant white foundation, no black eyeliner, no heavy eye shadow, nude lipstick, and pin straight hair. The only thing Egyptian about me was my eyebrows. You know, those V-shaped, angry eyebrows that are the hallmark of Egyptian makeup artistry. 

When I asked the makeup artist to put black eyeliner on me, he jokingly not jokingly responded that eyeliner is for prostitutes. And when I suggested he make me look a little exotic, he replied that I was already exotic. Well, to Egyptians I was. To me, I just didn’t recognize myself. Nor did I feel like a belly dancer. But I let it go. Perhaps they saw something I didn’t. 

Shortly after, a young man approached me with a tray full of glitter in one hand, and red lipstick in the other. He glittered my entire body—arms, legs, tummy, chest, and all—with his bare hands. He then smudged the lipstick on my knee caps, cleavage, and armpits! That was the first time I ever let a strange Egyptian man put his hands on me. I wouldn’t give it a second thought in the US, but here, things are different. Strangely enough, he was fast and professional, and did not make it awkward.

Then it was time to film. The production team wanted me to dance in some narrow corridor, declaring it would look great on screen. And it did, except that I had no room to do traveling movements or stretch my arms. I felt like Jeanie in a bottle. AND, I somehow used a veil for my entrance to Set il-Hosen. Other than my arms looking all scrunched and some major glitches in the editing, I was pleased with the final product. 

The next clip I shot was with singer Ahmed Salah. Ahmed is a popular shaabi singer on the nightclub circuit who looks a little like Baha Sultan. He sang a cute song called Salamtak ya Dimaghi, which loosely translates as “Bye-bye, my brain.” The idea of the song is that he loses his mind every time he sees the girl he likes. This was a really fun video to shoot, primarily because there were a lot of bloopers. The best was when the huge Styrofoam prop wall fell over on Ahmed’s head while he was singing. Neither of us could stop laughing for the remainder of the shoot.

  With Ahmed Salah, "Salamtak ya Dimaghi"

The last clip I shot that day was to Safa Farid’s version of Esmaooni. I wore a teal sequined leopard print costume for that shoot. By this point in the evening, I was exhausted, starving, and irritable. I wanted nothing more than to go home. And I would have, except I didn’t want to be rude and walk away after I had promised them three clips. So, I did a run-through of Esmaooni, fully aware that I was not producing my best work, and not really caring. Ironically, Esmaooni became the most popular clip on the whole channel, receiving more call-in and online votes than any other clip since the channel started. Ever since, whenever I’m dancing at weddings and birthday parties, Egyptians in the audience chant the word esmaooni over and over until I indulge them and dance to it. 

 "Zay il-Hawa"

Round two of my experience with El-Tet was much better. At the very least, I knew what to expect (and I knew to bring food and makeup with me!). This time around, I filmed four clips.  The first was the Safa Farid version of Ye Helwa Sabah. The second was an improvisation to a modern entrance piece, and the third was a tabla solo improvisation. I shot the fourth clip with another shaabi singer, Ragab El-Prince. I still don’t know the name of the song, and I have not been able to get a copy of this clip. But it was about a girl playing hard to get with her lover.  Working with Ragab was as much fun as working with Ahmed despite their different styles. Of course, we couldn’t finish filming without a blooper or two, most notably my bra popping off on camera! Thank God they didn’t air any of the bloopers.

On set with shaabi singer Ragab :)

Criticisms

El-Tet has encountered a lot of criticism. Most of it comes from conservative Egyptians, and those who hate women and dance. Some of it comes from belly dancers, surprisingly enough. I guess that’s to be expected though. Anything new is bound to be met with resistance.

Expectedly, conservative forces in Egypt have blasted the channel for “corrupting society.” You know, the whole half-naked women jiggling thing. What I didn’t expect was the widespread criticism of the channel emanating from the international dance community.

As I previously mentioned, a lot of dancers were upset about the channel airing tasteless commercials and personals. But that was not the extent of the criticism.  Many, including some retired superstars, criticized the channel for displaying dance on its own.  They claimed that the only “proper” way to present dance was in the context of a film, with a story, a framework, and dramatic events. While it is certainly fine to present dancing in that way, I see nothing wrong with showcasing belly dancing by itself. Especially considering that a lot of these older films feature very Orientalist dance scenes in which the dancer plays the role of a prostitute, a criminal, or a spy. Do we really think this hasn’t contributed to the negative image of belly dancers over the years? On the contrary, the dancing on El-Tet is unaccompanied by such unflattering storylines. The dancers just show up and dance. 

Another famous dancer criticized El-Tet for coming at the “wrong time.” She argued that a channel like this has no place during a time of revolution…that the media should be educating people, and teaching them how to respect each other. While I definitely agree that the media should educate (rather than indoctrinate) people, the idea that we don’t need dance during a revolution is dangerous. It is just an excuse to crack down on it. Furthermore, of the thousands of TV channels available to Egyptians, not one can be dedicated to dance? Do they all have to feature “educational” programs promoting religion, tolerance, and respect, etc.? And who is to say dance channels are not educational in their own way?

The last bit of criticism of the El-Tet that I’ve heard has the most validity. It is about the channel’s practice of airing belly dancers’ YouTube clips without their permission. This one pissed a lot of people off. Understandable. However, I would like to point out that the whole concept of copyright is new to Egypt. This does not excuse using dancers’ videos without obtaining permission, but it explains why it is happening. 

On set with Ahmed Salah

Advantages

For all the negatives people have pointed out, El-Tet does more good than harm. Here’s why.

First and most important, it is bringing belly dance back to the people. Thanks to El-Tet, anyone can turn on their TV and delight themselves to a belly dance performance. Before the channel came into existence, many Egyptians did not have access to belly dancing shows. This is because the prices for attending a belly dance performance are so expensive that most Egyptians cannot afford them. So in a way, belly dance has almost become an elite form of entertainment for the rich and for other foreign belly dancers. El-Tet changed that overnight. It has allowed Egyptians to access this part of their culture again. And Egyptians are taking it seriously. I hear them having intelligent conversations about the dance. They discuss who their favorite dancers are, and what they think about the costumes, music selection, etc. In short, people are getting excited about the dance, which is a good thing all around.

Second (and needless to say), El-Tet is a step in the right direction for women, secularism, and art. I don’t have to say anything else about that.

Third, televised belly dance is fostering a healthy spirit of competition amongst dancers. I’ll explain what I mean by this. Generally, there are two ways to deal with competition. One way is to harm your competition by destroying their reputation and/or personal items. This is what normally goes on here. The second way is to outshine your competition—observe their performance and try to do better. This is what El-Tet is encouraging, albeit unknowingly. Dancers are now exposed to each other on the screen. They are observing each other’s moves, costumes, looks, and music selection, and are striving to outdo each other for the next video shoot. This is a positive thing. Trust me. It is motivating dancers to improve their dancing by observing others and creating new content. Eventually, this will lead to a major improvement in the overall level of dancing here.

El-Tet is also allowing a whole new generation of dancers to gain exposure. Before this channel, Egyptians only knew of Dina. Now they are hiring other dancers, including myself, for their parties. This is great. There are a lot of dancers who need the work, and a few who are real star material. Assuming religious extremists do not destroy the dance, this channel is priming a new generation of stars who will actually be known to the Egyptian public the way that Samia Gamal, Fifi Abdo, Soheir Zaki, and Nagwa Fouad were.

Personally speaking, I have benefitted from dancing on the channel. Publicity is always a good thing, and I have been more in demand because of it. I also like hearing and reading Egyptians’ comments about my dancing.

Don’t get me wrong. Just the thought of dancing on Egyptian national TV is nerve wracking. It means that everyone is watching me. Everyone. Men, women, young, old, religious fanatics, other dancers, agents, producers. That is a lot of pressure. And I am not too happy about landlords and neighbors watching this channel—I could (and have) been evicted for being a belly dancer. I’m also not too sure how I feel when random people on the street sing the songs I danced to. I mean, I’m so used to being “undercover,” and then these people blow my cover. It is nice knowing that people recognize me though. 

Performing "Set El-Hosen" in the narrow corridor :)

I have also been criticized for appearing on the channel. Some have said that the level of dancing on the channel was rather low (and low class) and that I would ruin myself by appearing on it.  Others said people would become overexposed to me, which would lessen my appeal. Still others suggested I would be exposed to a whole lot of unwanted harassment and criticism. I considered all of the above before agreeing to be filmed, but in the end, I decided to work with the channel.  You only live once. Plus, I’m a sucker for new experiences, even if they are not always good.  This experience, however, turned out to be more than good. I’m so happy I took them up on their offer to be videotaped. If nothing else, this has inspired me to write the longest blog post in history!