It was over 100 degrees...

The room was dark, decorated in Arabic style. There were just three of us. Quickly sweat began to form on the brow. Soon sweat flowed. Running down the back. Drenching the shirt. The music was loud and rhythmic. "Bolshe, bolshe, bolshe (More, more, more!)" she commanded.
"Byistree, byistree!!" (Faster, faster!). These instructions were repeated over and over.
But faster was not an option. Neither was "more." Collapsing in agony was more likely.

One might think this was a military training exercise by the description. But knowing me that's not likely.
This was my first attempt at taking an Arabic belly dancing lesson.

I don't think I have worked out so hard in all my life. Childbirth seems easy now by comparison! My stomach, back and arms are not accustomed to bending the ways my instructor wanted. I left the room drenched, exhausted. Thankfully I have no pictures to share. I'm still contemplating whether to go back next week.