As Printed in the Quarter 3/2004 Issue of The Belly Dancer Magazine
ZAINA’S ZANY ADVENTURES
AND
FUNNY DANCE MOMENTS
What an understatement that is - - more like Hilarious Dance Moments, or Gut Busting
Dance Moments in my world. Have you ever hit the stage - - and to your absolute horror, saw the audience “snickering” - or some just down right “guffawing” (yes, that is a word)? Well, there certainly has been more than one occasion in which this has happened to Yours Truly. The first of which gave me my name, “Zaina”. I was dancing in a club in Phoenix - and had been for a month or two. The Band (Johny Blue) introduced me “Please welcome Tehara”. I hit the stage spinning and as I spun around to face forward, noticed the audience “snickering”. As I glanced to my right, MORE people were “giggling” and the same as I turned to the left. OMG I thought and immediately turned to the back, facing the band and giving them that “what is wrong look” - - well - Johny was singing and both he and the drummer had enormous grins on their faces. So, I began the CHECK as I call it - - you know the one: 1) check the ladies - are they in or is “someone” peeking out (no they were fine) - 2) look down and check the belt and skirt (hands and arms snaking to take away from the “check”) to assure skirt is not tucked up in belt - exposing fanny (no that was fine too), 3) turn back forward and place one hand at top of belt back - - checking for “panty tags” (cut them out before you go on the floor I say), (all fine here too) 4) do a pointy toe kick and check bottoms of feet for toilet paper or other paraphernalia (nope, all good there), 5) since you can’t find the problem - - just finish the performance and ask later.
So, the snickering did finally subside, and I did finish my show - - but I noted that the tips were “greater” than normal. Odd I thought since they were almost double the norm. When I had finished said show and changed out of costume I headed straight to Abo Hanna, and asked “What was so funny when I went on tonight?” He just began laughing saying it was difficult to tell me. So I went to the kitchen, got his wife and asked the same thing. She laughingly said, “Go ask Abo Hanna - he will tell you”. CRICKEY!
Would someone just tell me?
After much begging and pleading - - finally I was told - and it went something like this: My name, Tehara, - depending on who says it, and where the inflection (or accent) is put (pronounced) - could mean the “Crapper”. Yep, my name apparently meant TOILET! And Johny thought it would be funny (joke on me) to put the inflection or accent just where it would get the most “laughs” - - not caring about my poor little feelings. Okay - - FINE THEN! So, now what to do I thought?
Well, I got lucky that night - - luckier than I could have imagined. Over the first few months dancing in the restaurant, I had developed a friendship with a Lebanese family who frequented the restaurant. And that night, collectively, they decided that due to this incident I certainly needed a more fitting name. The matriarch of the family, through her grandson was insistent on giving me my new name; “Zaina”. Through David she said “This name means “jewel”, “emerald” (my favorite jem as it happened)”. She went on to say; “it means the most shining, glittering object you see when you walk in a room”. I was stunned! What a beautiful name I had just been given. Even though I was mortified at what my original name had meant - - to go from the Crapper to a “Jewel” all in one night - - well who could ask for more?
I added “Hart” which is part of my given last name - - to make it more personal to me and to give it a piece of who I really am and where my dance comes from - “the
heart”.
Now, as funny stories go - this had a happy ending. But there was that time that the Longshoreman in Vancouver managed to fall into the back of my belt? How can that
happen? Falling into a belt? Well, in went like this: I was dancing in a small Greek pub/restaurant - - my husband and several friends were with me. The crowd was NOT rowdy, but rather subdued. When it came to the tipping portion of the show, an elderly gentleman creeped up from behind, he was a bit on the “too much to drink that night side”, and, well, it was a combination of oddities. I was in the midst of turning, he was in the midst of placing his tip right in the center of the back of my belt, I didn’t know he was there, and he was somewhat off balance! So, the next think I knew, there was a guy with his arm ‘BURIED’ to his elbow, in the back of my belt. Picture in your mind, some poor fellow, arm flailing about under my belt and skirt, face in my back - me spinning around trying to figure out what is happening and a room full of people laughing hysterically - - NO ONE TRYING TO HELP.
He is yelling “Help me” and I am yelling “get him out of there”. Okay - - funny right? It is NOW, it wasn’t at the moment. Finally, the bartender to the rescue (what was my hubby doing? laughing with everyone else of course) - - he helped the poor gent out of my belt (the gent immediately vacated the premise) and I righted my belt, finished the last song and also “vacated the premise”. Hubby followed out again with more tips from the basket than I had ever made there.
So it would appear, when you make a “crapper” of yourself, (snicker) the audience apparently must feel sorry for you, because the tips certainly are larger on those comedic nights.
Memories, eh? - Happy Dancing, and laugh - and the whole club will laugh with you! . . . Zaina!
