You may ask yourself, ‘what does Ukraine have to do with a dance rooted in Middle Eastern folklore?’ The explanation lies in a mixture of femininity, cult and curiosity towards foreign cultures following the end of the Soviet Union – which was notoriously cut off from the rest of the world.
Tatiana Shaforostova – one of the precursors of the dance in Ukraine – laughs as she tells me how she started belly dancing. “I came across a Turkish belly dance video in 1987, during the Soviet time. I was impressed: I could not understand how a woman could isolate her body parts like that. So I tried to figure out how to do it”. When Ukraine gained independence and began opening to the outside world in the 1990s, people were keen on trying new, intriguing, and exotic art forms. And what’s more intriguing and exotic than belly dancing for a European audience? “The final push came with the popularity of the Brazilian soap opera The Clone, shown on Ukrainian television in 2005. The female lead character was a belly dancer. Young girls became fascinated with her moves, and they became determined to learn her art,” explains Yulianna Voronina, an award-winning Ukrainian belly dancer.
View this post on Instagram
Whatever the reason for embracing belly dancing, Ukrainians have rapidly achieved popularity and success at an international level. When I ask Tatiana why Ukrainians are such good dancers, she explains that: “In Ukraine, dance is taken to a competitive level. Belly dance contests abound. When you have to compete, you are motivated to excel”. Aware of the dangers of cultural appropriation, many Ukrainian belly dancers spend long periods of time in Cairo to learn the traditional Egyptian style. Alla Kushnir – who reached national fame after becoming a finalist in Ukraine’s Got Talent in 2009 – is a sought after performer for weddings in Cairo. “I consider Egypt my second homeland; it is my source of inspiration. Cairo has allowed me to truly flourish as a belly dancer”, she proudly tells me.
On February the 24th, the glitter and glamour of Ukrainian belly dance was overshadowed by the brutal experience of war. “Me and my niece Alla Smyshlyaeva [also a belly dancer] were in Kiev at that time”, explains Alla, who has now fled to Cairo. “I ran out of my apartment and saw long queues outside shops, and huge traffic jams. It was impossible to withdraw cash. Over the next few days we started hearing explosions getting closer and louder. So we took shelter in the Osokorky subway station; we spent entire days sheltered there with other people.”
View this post on Instagram
“I stopped teaching both online and live classes. I cannot play loud music as I need to remain vigilant against possible attacks. And obviously I cannot travel to my studio for live classes” complains Alex Delora, a successful belly dancer living in Kryvyi Rih, and famous for her powerful drum solo performances. Yulianna Voronina agrees: “At the beginning the thought that I could die any moment haunted me, I couldn’t concentrate on dancing. When we moved to the basement [used as a bomb shelter] with 13 other people – including children and pets – there was simply no way for me to belly dance”.
View this post on Instagram
Despite the undeniable logistical and psychological barriers, dancing has been used as a coping strategy among conflict-affected civilians for centuries, and Ukraine is no exception. After the panic of the first few days, artists have gradually starting to dance again to help themselves, their audience, and their students deal with war.
Anna Chepets – who is just 18 years old and already a star – is among the few dancers who have no intention of fleeing the country. She tells me how belly dancing is helping her: “At the beginning, I couldn’t even think about dancing. I was in a bomb shelter for 5 days, I was scared. But now it’s time to resume my dance practice to support both myself and others carry on in this difficult situation. Belly dancing is my life, I’m sure it will help me, even in the hardest of times”. A firm believer in the healing power of dance, Tatiana Shaforostova has recently reopened the doors of her dance studio in Odessa. Classes are free but donations are welcome. “It is a place to find relief, especially for children. We need time out from the sound of air raid sirens ringing in our ears. Otherwise we will just go crazy”, she tells me over the phone.
The international belly dance community has shown incredible generosity toward Ukraine. Many of the Ukrainian artists I interviewed said they were overwhelmed by messages from fellow dancers offering financial help and a place to stay. From Europe to the Middle East, artists are busy organising performances, workshops and haflas to raise money for Ukraine.
Fleeing Ukrainian dancers like Tatiana are currently planning events, benefit classes, and awareness raising campaigns to help their country cope with war. Those who were abroad when the war broke out are already contributing to humanitarian efforts. Julia Farid – famous for her performances inspired by Egyptian actresses such as Samia Gamal and Taheya Kariokais – offers belly dance classes for all levels through her dance training platform from her home near Rome. 100 percent of the profits will be donated to hospitals and charities in Ukraine.
The power of dance to spread joy, promote community engagement, and even contribute to peace building has manifested in many contexts. Dance doesn’t only empower people, but also fosters community and kindness among artists. By relieving stress and improving self-esteem, belly dance allows women to experience both a inner power and a deep sense of peace. Moreover, as the Ukrainian crisis has demonstrated, the cross-cultural reach of this Middle Eastern dance allows it to mobilize and unite communities. Dance can be a catalyst not only for personal empowerment, but also for social change. As Alex Delora vividly expressed on social media “If more people danced, there would be less war”.
