Belly dancing a therapeutic tool - or just a belly laugh?
Open Door - August 2005 pages 8-9
Vanessa Hall,
sometime dancer and enthusiast - neuro-physiotherapist and MS specialist coordinator for the South Wilts PCT
Belly dancing has always held a big appeal for me – the glamour, the sensuality, the gorgeous clothes, and the chance to escape for a while from the mundanities of chilly Western society into the heady atmosphere of the exotic East. And it seemed much more fun than going to the gym! With that in mind, I spotted an advert in the local paper, enrolled for lessons, and started my new life as Fatima Hall, exotic dancer…
Joking apart, it was great fun, wonderful exercise, and a chance to make new friends, even if I forgot the steps and found I had two left feet! Our teacher, Nancy, was an inspiration to us all. Built like a whippet, contrary to the expected image, she danced with a sinuous elegance that belied the fact that she had any bones at all, which plunged the stiffer souls amongst us into the depths of despair that we could ever emulate such sublimity. However, she was always unfailingly kind and encouraging, inspiring us to bring out the inner houri that we had always hoped existed within us, and gradually, Eastern dancers began to emerge.
Vanessa dancing
It was at about this time that I began a series of holidays to Morocco, where I cast interested and critical eyes on the techniques and costumes of the dancers who performed at the hotels for the tourists. I remember very clearly coming back to our hotel one day, and saying excitedly to our destination manager that I had seen the costume that I wanted to buy being worn by a company of dancers on the Djema el Fnaa, the big square in the middle of Marrakech. It consisted of a white robe, covering the body from the neck to the ankles, with an ornate hip-belt, a head veil, and a yashmak - just the thing for a modest English physiotherapist….or so I thought. I later discovered, after much hilarity at my suggestion from our manager, that these were, in fact, the costumes worn by the transvestites, as only men are allowed to dance on the public square.
After this slight embarrassment, I decided that it was probably safer to buy my costumes from Nancy, and gradually, as my wardrobe of glittery outfits started to grow, I am happy to say that not one has consisted of a long white robe!
Friends and family took a great deal of interest in this burgeoning hobby, as did colleagues at the MS Centre. Little by little, I started to bring in articles of clothing and demonstrate the odd step or movement, usually behind a screen, so as not to be laughed at by all and sundry! Very gradually, it started to dawn on me that I could begin to combine the knowledge that I already had as a physiotherapist with the techniques that I was acquiring as a dancer, and in a very informal way, I started to put this into practice.
People with a neurological deficit, whether or not caused by MS, lose their fluidity of movement. This is partly due to muscle weakness and spasm, and also a very real fear that they will lose their balance and fall. As a result, movement becomes slow, laboured, and stiff, with spontaneity of action almost completely absent. Often the rotation component of walking is lost, with people moving 'all of a piece'- the very antithesis of belly-dancing, which rotates the body in so many directions that it could make your eyes water!
There is also the undeniable factor that confidence in body image takes a dive with the progression of the disease. Women in particular will often voice the fear that they are unattractive and feel that they are not feminine beings any more. People that I saw at the MS Centre were intrigued by the gorgeous glittery clothes, and I recognized the 'big girl's dressing-up box' syndrome almost immediately! The desire to turn into someone other than themselves, even for a short time, was very evident. I decided to do something about it, and after a discussion with Nancy, arranged a special class for new dancers at the MS Centre. This was solely for our female patients, much to the disgust of the men, who were keen to participate - ie watch! - until I told them they could join in only if they were in full costume.
The day of the class dawned, and a dozen slightly apprehensive and very giggly participants arrived. Nancy and I brought costumes for everyone, and the fun began! Earlier apprehensions disappeared, as people seated in wheelchairs, or standing supported in the parallel bars started moving parts that hadn't moved for a long time, swaying to the music and thoroughly enjoying themselves.
Nancy dancing
In order that fatigue should not set in, Nancy entertained us with her own solo performances between sessions, dancing with canes and finger cymbals. Her lyrical interpretations of the music made some of us realize that we had a very long way to go! However, she was also absolutely brilliant in pointing out that it is perfectly possible to dance from a chair, since the movements involved need only be the rotation of a shoulder, or the making of 'pretty hands' as she called it, to the rhythm of the music. Of course, it is wonderful to be able to incorporate the whole body in the dance, but if balance is poor, and the legs don't work, then put on a gorgeous costume, sway with the compulsive Arabic beat, and dance with the upper body, waving the arms seductively, and have fun fantasising about life in a harem!
An hour passed very quickly, and Nancy departed, leaving a tired, but very happy group of embryonic Middle Eastern houris, and a great deal of food for thought for me.
The tentative start that I had made in introducing bellydancing techniques to my patients flowered, and many more found themselves happily putting on hip-belts and exercising to my Arabic dance tapes.
The hip-belts that I chose for these 'exercises' were decorated with coins, and therefore jingled prettily on movement. I then put my stiff patients, wearing hipbelts, into the parallel bars for support, and got them to see if they could make a noise by moving their lower body. At first, very little tended to happen, as it is difficult to alter overnight, physical habits that may have taken months or years to become ingrained; but gradually, within the safety of the bars, hips started to swing, and the belts started to jingle - a true example of bio-feedback, as the more the hips moved, the louder the belts rattled!
Dancer at the parallel bars
It was really heart-warming and very satisfying to see how much it was possible to encourage more normal movement in people who had previously been locked into patterns of rigidity. Some even went so far as to buy their own belts and music and practise at home. I can only surmise that there may have been one or two surprised and delighted husbands at the receiving end of all this Eastern gorgeousness.
In conclusion, I really feel that belly-dancing, or Arabic Dance, has a real place in helping people with MS to achieve a better level of fitness, a much better sense of balance, as well as providing a huge boost in confidence levels. After all, who could fail to feel less than wonderfully feminine when dressed up as an extra from the Arabian Nights?! Try it some time – it may not change your life, but you'll have so much fun!
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