Have Zills, Will Travel: A Weekend At Rakkasah Festival

With coin belts and silky veils in tow, caravans of belly dancers converged on Vallejo for a weekend of performance, music, and shopping. It was Rakkasah West festival, the biggest belly dancing festival in the world, which happens every year in mid-March only an hour or so away from Sacramento.

I was one of these dancers, and totally stoked about being able to stay for the entire weekend for the first time. I was also performing a solo there, which is no credit to my dancing skills, as spots are first-come first-serve and pretty much anybody can dance. Still, I was excited at the opportunity to be able to strut my stuff on stage. In a hotel room with four other dancers from my troupe, with people dancing and playing music out in the parking lot, I knew it was going to be an exciting weekend.

This was Rakkasah’s first year in its new home, the Solano County Fairgrounds. Having two full-size stages was the biggest perk: last year, my dance partner Kalila and I performed on a dinky little stage hidden in a corner. And it wasn’t even much of a stage, just some floor space and a painted backdrop. In all other respects, though, I preferred the old location in Richmond. This year the festival was divided into two buildings, which lessened the impact of the sheer size of the event. The dressing room situation was much better at the previous site, as was the food. Actually, I was extremely disappointed in the food situation. In the past they always had some decent Mediterranean food, and I was really looking forward to some falafels. But no, all they had was fair food like turkey sandwiches, popcorn, and hot dogs. Hot dogs! At a belly dancing festival? You have got to be kidding me.

I woke up bright and early to attend my first workshop on a chilly Saturday morning. I should have slept in, as it was a total waste of time and money. I could have taught that class better than the instructor did. It was a sword and tray balancing workshop, and although she asked everyone if they’ve danced with swords before and found that we all had, she proceeded to give us a very basic beginner-level class. Seriously, how can you call it a dance class with no choreography, no music, and pretty much no dancing? I was seriously considering never taking a Rakkasah workshop again, but the one I took Sunday morning redeemed them. This was with Jenna, who has studios in LA and New York. This one was a class on dancing to live music, she actually had a live drummer and Auld player in the class with us. She was well-prepared and gave us a ton of great material as well as a good workout. She performed later in the day, and she’s as great a dancer as she is a teacher.

Performances ran on both stages from opening to close Friday through Sunday. Dancers of all styles, all ages, and from all over the world came to perform. A few big names in the belly dancing world were there, including Suhaila Salimpour, Dondi, Saqra, and Jim Boz. I was actually surprised by the number of male belly dancers I saw there. Most of these were the token awkward guy looking totally bored in a troupe of otherwise female dancers, but there were a couple that were really good. Jim Boz, for instance, worked that crowd of screaming women like a pro. Looking like something between a sultan and a hard rocker, he was graceful without being effeminate, which is tough to do. Another guy gave up all pretenses of masculinity and danced in drag. He was absolutely adorable dancing his heart out in a blonde wig, pink and white belly dancer-cheerleader costume, tiara, and white pumps.

Other acts were far less entertaining. For one thing, the disadvantage to these festivals is that there are a lot of people in belly dancing costumes you would prefer not to see in a belly dancing costume. Now I’m not trying to be catty, as everyone is there to have a good time and support each other, and props should be given to everyone to have the courage to get up there and dance. It’s very empowering, and I’m not trying to deny anyone that. Is it so much to ask that if someone is so large you literally cannot see their belly button that they wear a one-piece costume? A flattering costume adds so much more to the performance, and many of these were mediocre anyway. That’s the other problem. Since anyone can get a spot, you end up sitting through a lot of really bad dancing.

Of course, watching the performances is not the only reason to come. For belly dancing costumes and supplies, Rakkasah is a shopper’s paradise. Full costumes, veils, props, instruments, music, DVDs: you name it, it’s all there in abundance. Plus all kinds of unique funky street clothes that would be sure to earn you plenty of compliments. I spent entirely too much money that weekend. The highlight for me, though, was getting up there on stage myself. I certainly wasn’t the best dancer there, but I like to think I’m fairly decent, and I wanted to wow the audience a little bit. I did a spin and dropped into a Turkish back-bend, on my knees with my back on the floor, and then played my zills (finger cymbals) on the ground. I fell into the drop rather harder than I anticipated, I think the thump echoed through the entire hall. It had the intended dramatic effect, though, and did get people cheering so it was worth the bruises it gave me.

So, if you’re into belly dancing (or just looking for a fun day trip) and missed Rakkasah this year, be sure and check it out next year. It’s only a short drive away, and it’s well worth it.