#the ruby lady

[thelittlerubylady]

You know shit is getting real when President Sisi attends a conference a mere 100 meters from where you live and you have these bad boys flying above your humble abode all day. Someone told me they had infrared cameras and can see when you go to the toilet.

[thelittlerubylady]

Peachy Keen by The Ruby Lady

Costume by Nadia El Awilla, Sharm el Shiekh, Egypt

Photography by Theuns Verwoerd

[thelittlerubylady]

A drum solo performance from a few nights ago in Hayatt Regency, Sharm el Shiekh

(via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ymTS1hbAJ8)

[thelittlerubylady]

A Day in the Life of a Sharm Dancer

It’s my seventh day since I landed back in Sharm el Sheikh, and my sixth of brova (rehearsal) all day and performances all night. It’s 11am and the sun is just about to reach its most blistering, burning the air with a heat that not even the dead of night will relieve. The ten minute stroll to the brova room transformed into a deadly desert pilgrimage. When we arrive, me and another Russian belly dancer, there is no one else there. We walk through a few dances together before giving up and going to lunch- no one else is coming. The afternoon is spent sleeping in a heat induced state of bad dreams- my roommate doesn’t approve of air conditioning.

It’s 6:30 pm and the company piles into a van overflowing with tanoura, gold lamme, feather headdresses. Today there are enough seats for everyone, not an everyday occurrence (our nickname for the company van is “the clown car”; how many dancers can you squeeze inside?) Me and two other belly dancers are dropped off at our first hotel for the night. We sit in the bathroom for an hour before leaving again because the DJ never shows up.

Flying to our next order, we drive like the wind - undeterred by physical objects blocking our path. We dodge cars and take corners at a frightening speed, slowing down only for police check points. We arrive back at our home base hotel, a ten minute walk from my house. While I wait to go on stage, an Egyptian boy who works animation pointedly walks by me, refusing to look at me or say hello. For the past three months he has messaged me every day asking me to be his wife. After an hour and a half of being at work, finally I dance. We fuck up the ending of Hagalla and laugh about it back stage. After four songs we are finished. We struggle our sweaty bodies back into our clothes. Run. Drive. Dance again. Another wrestling match with clothing. Run. Drive and...never mind. Our last order is cancelled and we finish work early. I go back home and dye my hair with a spoon.

B��B���e��

[quakecitygrrls]

Dunedin! Like Egypt only colder!

[quakecitygrrls]

[quakecitygrrls]

Poor Rachael doesn't actually faint that much!

[quakecitygrrls]

I will scan these onto the internet nicely one day when I can work out how to scan something without being distracted by the ability to scan my own face!