This week I celebrated my birthday for five days continually and felt heartbroken at the same time. I never chose to live the turbulent life of an artist, the life picked me. I never felt extremely euphoric for long without getting kicked in the face from an unexpected direction and things never turn out to be “ordinary”.
A rich Iraqi friend of mine gave me a beautiful diamond ring and of course I loved it. He was just being generous and the ring was meant as a sign of our friendship. These things are quite common in the life of a dancer. We receive tips or presents as a compliment or as a flirt and we know how to deal with it. I know dancers who’ve been offered a car or even a house by men who wanted their companion – or friendship. This is a very Arab way of men to show affection and of course status. Sometimes you accept, sometimes you don’t. As long as you are clear about your personal boundaries there is no problem. If you dance well you can get over 1000 euro of tips and your costume is making rustle sounds when you get back in the dressing room, of course these party’s are rare in the Netherlands and I have to mention, Dutch people seldom give tips because they just don’t know the Arabic course of behavior.
However, when I finally got home after my birthday celebration I found myself staring at the ring, fantasizing about my future true love, still unknown. Shouldn’t that ring been given by him? I felt confused and decided to create more explicitness in my life. I paid a visit to the guy that I’ve been dating with for the last six months (which was not the ring man, just to make clear). I had turned 26 and I need to start thinking about the future. With Carlos Santana’s “make it real or let’s forget about it” playing in my head we talked about our feelings. And basically that was where it ended.
The amazing birthday weekend with lots of friends, family, presents and a ring with a huge diamond – extreme euphoria with a punch in the face that made me latterly “forget about it” was an interesting mixture of feelings. This week will absolutely turn out to be an inspiration for the artistic mind when the storm is over.
Men can make me smoke a pack of Vogue-Menthol at a stretch.
A quote from one of my best friends and colleagues: “F*ck love, give me diamonds” made me laugh. Of course it’s so not true and we both know.
Warda’s “Salam el Ahbab” inspires me right now. Her beautiful voice makes me feel strong and happy.
(*With my respect and appreciation for the ones I write about, who are aware of the content of this blog.)