Dance or Die

Dubai

The following is an excerpt from Fire In The Belly, a memoir by Zaina Brown. I've known Zaina for more than ten years now. We go back to Yosry Sharif in NYC. :) She amazed me then and she amazes now. Her dancing, her integrity, her adventurous spirit, and now, this brain child of hers about her travels as a foreign dancer across the Middle East and Africa. Simply put, you NEED to buy her book. It'll give you a good hard look into what it means to be a dancer in the Arab world.

Access Fire in the Belly on Facebook or on Instagram. 

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“I will put you in the program for April. But, you will need a tan, a small injection of silicon in your lips, and you should gain four kilograms. Then you will have just the right look for a bellydancer!” Salim exclaimed from the driver’s seat.

“Okay, Salim. Just for you, I’ll get a spray tan. But I don’t think I should gain four kilos!” I didn’t bother explaining that injecting silicon into the lips was a terrible idea. Hyaluronic acid, however, could be arranged. A temporary tint was no problem, either, but it would have to be a spray tan. I knew from experience that self-tanners from a bottle made your hands bright orange and your skin smell like rotisserie chicken. Going on a heavy diet to gain weight was a ludicrous gamble, though. Club-goers in Dubai were all too quick to call a bellydancer fat.