Darawish

I remember in Aleppo, we went to see the Darawish dancing. I wasn't sure what to expect, until I saw it. Then I wanted to be it.....

Standing there, with my white round skirt, I would look up, eyes as if fixed on something, but not really. then, as the music gets louder, my arms stretch up, I start a gentle sway, I get the skirt moving, and I start to turn, arms up, eyes closed, twirling, turning, taken away by the music. As the music becomes faster, I turn faster, my head tilted a little to the left, and I turn and turn, almost in a state of trance. I can sense the blood rushing side ways in my veins, my heart beat mixing with the sounds of the music and the occasional ruffling of the skirt as it brushes the floor. the music carries me away, as if I am lifting from the ground, I sense nothing, I see nothing, I only hear the music and I go faster, my arms and head swaying but still. My eyes open for a second, and all I can see is lines of light, people's faces, smudges on the outer window of my tranced being. It is like watching the world from inside, a bystander on a journey. I lose sense of time and place, I float in a circular twirl, faster and faster, higher and higher, taken, numb, senseless, weightless, when suddenly the music stops, and as if cut off from an invisible string, I fall to the ground, exhausted, drained, lost, and I sit in my skirt, face down, eyes closed, breathing heavily... journey is over...