Another Set of Finger Cymbals, Please

On my first night in Istanbul, I went out with some new friends I'd met at my hostel. We decided to go to a bellydancing show that was supposed to be going on at a local pub.

After a little wait, one woman came out to the deafening clamor of traditional music. She was in an impressive glittery dress and had finger cymbals: both no doubt reminiscent of Turkish times gone by. She was a very good dancer - but she wasn't really bellydancing.

Those of you that know me know that I have a peculiar ability to bellydance (and to make an idiot of myself on occasion). Eventually, she was looking for volunteers from the bar to get up and dance with her. So, I took her by the hand, and started doing some dancing of my own. I showed her my own version of bellydancing, rolling my stomach with the music -- the very incarnation of the Anti-Chippendale.

She wasn't very impressed. But, see, I didn't have the finger cymbals. It works so much better with the finger cymbals.