Bellydance in her Soul: Remembering Tia Blanca

Para mi primo George, no importa la distancia...solo el amor

My father's sister, my Tia Blanca passed away last week at the youthful age of 79. She is the lovely dark-haired lady in the picture above with her son, my cousin Larry by her side. My mom and I are to the left of them. Thankful I had seen her in Argentina last October, I lit a candle for her as I prayed and thanked the Universe for our last meeting. It was a true and priceless blessing.

Her twinkly eyes, alive and bright shone passionately as she confessed to me her livelong desire to bellydance. The music had always called her but in her teens and 20s that wasn't a dance for young, Catholic Argentine women to dance nor was it appropriate for a wife, mother or grandmother as she travelled through life. She told me of stolen moments away from her dad's disapproving eyes and the freedom she felt as she danced around in her living room to sounds of faraway places that felt like home to her spirit.

I told her how my day's cares and worries ceased as I stepped onto the wood dance floor. How I am instantaneously transported to a perfect NOW when I dance. There is no yesterday or tomorrow there is only the music flowing through me, emotion in motion and a freedom that is pure joy.

I hugged her and told her of performances, my dance teacher Jannelle in NYC,the Shimmy Sisters, veils, costumes, wings, the pyramids of Egypt and the amazing classes I attended in Cairo taught by male middle eastern dancers! I promised that when I came back to Argentina, we would go watch a live middle eastern dance & music show, she said," Watch? Oh, no! You and I will dance! A si, Vanessita, vamos a bailar!"

We giggled like school girls and members of a secret society as I shared some of my ipod albums while the rest of the family sat at lunch. I explained the reason that I had decided to live life as fully as possible was because I realized how lucky I was to be born in a time where I have different choices. I've always felt a responsibility to my female ancestors to dance because perhaps they couldn't, to pray in my own way because perhaps they could only do so on bended knee, to express and sing and love on my own terms...perhaps because they could only do so according to their cultural norms.

Tia Blanca was born in Argentina and came to the US as a wife and mother, only to return and make Argentina her permanent home. I was born in Latin America and came to the US in diapers. I had not seen her in a half a lifetime and yet, we were not so different! Wondering why we felt this love for middle eastern music and dance, moved to tears and challenged to express it however we could, we shared our passion and awe that afternoon.

I imagine now, that she is bellydancing in the heavens and that she is eternally youthful and vibrant. I imagine her with her husband Luis who passed away last year and their very real and loving connection. I imagine too when I pass and that those after me will celebrate my life.

For now I welcome each day as a sacred promise to love as much as I can, create as much as I am able and get back to dance class ASAP! When I pass away those left behind can celebrate my life, in the meantime its my birthday month, "Let's Dance! Yallah! Yallah!"