Temporarily Assigned to Planet Earth

The neighborhood I live in is called Wellington Heights. A year or so ago a couple of women in the neighborhood came up with the idea of starting a monthly "Ladies Night Out". This kind of thing doesn't appeal to everyone, but since I have no social life whatsoever, I decided to participate. About a dozen of us participate on an irregular basis now.

Last night there were only five of us--an unusually small turnout. We went to Casablanca, a Moroccan restaurant in Alexandria's old town (sorry--Olde Towne). At Casablanca you don't get your own plate; everyone eats off a large platter in the middle of the table. It's quite authentic, and very good. What I enjoyed most, though, was the belly dancing.

By strange coincidence, one member of our party knew a lot about belly dancing. She said that historically women danced for women, and men for men. So there's a historical basis for my own enjoyment of watching a woman belly dance.

The dancer was very good. She danced for about half and hour, during which she did several dances of distinctly different styles. She had a beautiful body: no part of her was skinny, thank Goddess, and no part of her was fat. Her red and silver costume was beautiful and by today's standards, modest.

I loved watching her move. She could move each part of her body independently of the rest. She could move in a sensuous serpentine way or in a series of jerky motions or in a continuous shimmy. She danced with a sword balanced on her head, she danced with a veil, and she danced with a cane. The dance with the cane was something I'd never seen, but the woman in our party who, strangely, knew a lot about belly dancing, said that historically, when women danced for women, they danced with canes to mock old men.