I'm not sure how much to reveal here, but I can say for certain that if Devra and Sarah ever invite you out, saying there will be "wine, cheese, and belly dancing," you'd better believe them!

We had a fabulous time last week at the opening of Hot Mama Fitness Studio, complete with -- you guessed it, wine, cheese, and belly dancing.

It was awesome. The space is new, but the spirits were high and the people were fabulous. I met some great new blogfriends (Hi, Sue!) and their friends, and had a great time with mah local friends and blogfriends too. Too. much. fun.

But what you want to know here is this:

Belly Dance With Soul. Oh. My. Gosh. This was fun.

And yes. I will belly dance again.

(I tell myself it's for exercise, but it's also just fun!)

Yesterday, the were only two events and I chose to attend the French masterclass (boy oh boy am I going to be top at languages by the end of this week, I've got Spanish tomorrow!) and you know what? I was really suprised how much I'd remembered from my school days.

Although we only touched on the basics, our tutor, Mark Orme had designed a session that was aimed at intermediate students of French.

We began by learning the basic greeting and general polite manner that the French try to adopt, but I have admit this threw me slightly as the French I had been taught in school was the informal, rather than the formal, so it was only the odd word that helped me to understand the sentence.

Following on from that we learnt how to ask and reply to questions such as; where are you from? are you married? and are you a student?, before going onto learn how to order things in a restaurant.

Unfortunately, by that point time had beaten us and we didn't get on to asking for directions, but the worksheet Mark had produced gave us all the information about what we had learnt and the rest of his plan for the session.

I have to say his enthusiam for the language and culture really came through in this short session and it was quite nice being in such a small group (there was only three of us) because it meant we could stop and practise and perfect our prounounciations, which helped a great deal.

An interview with Mark will be going up on Friday (I've decided to hang on to the few interviews I have and get them all up together).

So, onto today! Well, I began my day by trying my hand at Origami, one of those annoying things that sounds easy but is really tricky in practise.

During the session we made a square box that didn't have a lid (though you could make one by making another box and fitting it on top, a small lantern type thing that didn't look much until you blew into it and it formed something that when decorated, could make a nice Christmas decoration and finally, we made a crane (the bird form I might add).

It's suprising how a small , insignificant piece of paper can be turned into something so different, but the annoying thing is that it's so tricky, yet so simple to do. All you have to remember is that everything starts off with a square sheet of paper and it's all about the folds and bends that you make that will hold it in place when you have finished.

On top of the session, we were given a small piece of origami paper, which is what the professionals use and probably makes the finished product look much better, whilst also being a better quality paper to work with and we also got a introductory sheet into the Japanses culture, which is where origami comes from.

Might I just add that I'm proud of my crane, even if it looks a little too skinny and won't stay upright on its own!

Unfortunately, I was so involved with this one that I didn't get any pictures and I'm sorry to say the rest of today's activities turned out to be the same, but for this one I didn't even manage any interviews, but never fear, I did get some for Indian Head Massage and Belly Dancing so keep an eye out for them.

And that neatly takes me onto my next activity of the day, Indian Head Massage.

Now I was gutted to miss this event last February, so there was no way I was letting it go by again and I'm glad I didn't.

As with last time, our instructor was Eddie Burgess from Reflect UK and he led us as we partnered up and gave the techniques a try taking it in turns to be the giver and the reciever.

I cannot explain to you how relaxing it felt. We began by "saying hello to the head" by placing our hands on the top of it and then began to warm up and massage the back, neck, shoulders and upper arms using a variety of massage techniques. It really helped to get you in the mood and I could feel my whole body relaxing.

The soothing music and lavender scent that I could pick up in the background was an immense help and if you closed your eyes (which helped when the actual head massage began and my hair was in my eyes) you really felt like you were drifting off into a tranquil state.

The head massage however, was a bit, shall we say, not quite what I'd expected, but then I'm not sure what else I could have expected.

Basically, the same movements that you would do in a normal massage were applied to the scalp and at times it was done with the same pressure, which was an odd experience. I really didn't expect my hair to get quite so messy though!

We followed that we soothing little massages across the forehead, temples and across the eyes, nose and cheeks, before removing our hands from our partner's head and "flicking" (yes, that's right) the excess vibes away (or at least I think that's what it was about).

Apparently, the whole idea of Indian Head Massage is to oxygenate the head and I have to say, I certainly felt that was achieved and I think my partner for the session, Tom Richens would agree as I have sneaking suspicion that he was drifting off as I massaged his head!

And so, onto the last event of today - Belly Dancing. This event was such a laugh because my technique can only be compared to that of a 'Thunderbirds' type puppet! I have no movement in my hips whatsoever and although I tried, I think I probably looked completely awful.

However, our tutor, Sally Smith is a 3rd year Dance Performance and Teaching student and took lessons as part of her course and she looked much more professional.

There was a good turnout at the event, although it was all girls, even though traditionally the dance is taught to both boys and girls, but pretty soon we were all giving it a go and most seemed to pick it up quite easily.

Apparently, it's all about the movement of the hips, so you should concertrate on where they are moving and your legs will follow, but remember to keep your torso straight. Sally told us that when the right outfit is worn, the skirt is so long that you can't see the legs and feet moving at all and so it looks like it's all down to the movement of the belly.

We learnt how to roll our hips, move them in a figure of eight and tried to, well the only word I can use to describe it is 'jiggle' them, which is pretty tricky because you want to move your entire body and therefore, look like some weird vibrating mad person!

Nevertheless, it's definately something I'd like to try again and there are classes available in Preston (details of which I'll get up tomorrow), but I feel, as with most things, it's something you have to keep practising so I better get jiggling!

Well, that's it for today! Amongst tomorrow's events are the Student Life Fair in 53 Degrees, Spanish Language Taster and Table Tennis, so I'll be back with all of those for you.

Tata. x

What a gem of a video AOTS has shown us today.  Fabulous, simply fabulous.

Apparently it's from a belly dancing video. My interest in belly dancing has just increased 100%.  I must imagine that it takes quite a lot of talent to perform such a feat.

Enjoy!

So what did I learn to draw? Geometric shapes. As someone who has taught Geometry, this isn't much of a stretch. I've been teaching students how to draw geometric shapes for years. But the new thing in the drawing class was paying attention to the shadows and different aspects of shading. It was cool to try out the different pencils and charcoal. The class meets for three more weeks. It will be interesting to see the progression.

Tuesday is my day for belly dancing again. It's the same class I took last spring. But I think I can say that I didn't master the moves. And I think it's a good way to get some alternative exercise and use muscles that I normally don't.

Wednesday I'm back to yoga. I had my first yoga class this past Wednesday. One gal said to me, "I haven't come in from my day in two months." I believe I could say the same thing. I mainly do yoga for the stress relief and stretching it provides. I've been doing it for about 3 years. I try to do some at home, but for some reason, it's practically impossible to get similar results to a class. My instructor had been in Africa for 2 months. So we were all glad to have her back.

I guess that in between these regularly scheduled events, I'm fitting in my schoolwork and more fun. I'm sure that this coming week will provide me with some material to write about. It's Homecoming. ;-)

I’m also very scared I’ll be the big joke. Being laughed at for who you are is very painful I can honestly say, and I’m naturally cautious of reliving moments like that, so I tend to avoid them.
Of course I could be seen as the best damn thing at the party, not because of my dance skill, but because I’m young and at least I’m trying to push my boundaries. That still doesn’t mean I fit in though.

"...lose it, relish it, get over with it...and now the REAL party begins"

hmmm...makes a lot of sense!

thanks for playing guardian to the still gullible gidget! :-) you know who you are bugger! :-)

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after almost an eternity of being assigned offshore, yesterday my stint came to conclusion. whatever changes living in the quirky city has made me, it will roll out eventually.

but for now, funny how the first christmas song i heard for this year made me ecstatic instantly! ohhh i miss philippines!!! it's not even halfway of september but PI airport speakers are already playing incessantly holiday cheers! :-) don't you just luv philippine christmas season? woot!woot!

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i tried belly dancing last night! preposterous i know!!! hahaah! but the prize of being anonymous in a city (not that i'm saying peeps know me in MNL, but dooh! it's different when you're not worried that someone would recognize you and mock you for just being there in the dance studio!) is being able to explore things you would'nt dare consider back home. hehe!

but i must admit, it's not for me! and even if i pretend i can follow the hips shaking, trunk bending and imitate the sensuality of the belly dancer, i would always end up laughing at myself (like i did last night) cuz it's NOT soooo me! dancing was never in my blood, and perhaps it will never be! hahaha!

this doesn't mean though i'm giving up my loooong time secret affair with S-A-L-S-A!

---

a paradigm shift in my workplace is happening right now. and i'm for it 101%! how can i not support an ivy league boy with a vision years ahead of his time?! oh! i like our new MD! :-)

(1) was to meet up with another crossdresser and this one is mostly a failure.
(2) was to go to the hairdresser I was recommended to see, and I have an appointment for tomorrow. Since technically he is a crossdresser that might suffice for (1) but it doesn’t really count.
(3) was to buy a dressier top and I exceeded that by buying an evening dress.
(4) was to do belly dancing in the girl’s class and since they’re at a level way higher than me, that ain’t gonna happen soon.

Anyway, another challenge that seems to be coming my way (like it or not) is doing a belly dancing performance early next month. The idea is that by using the veil I’ll hide my male identity (at least for a short while), and then “surprise” them.
I am practicing in my spare time, but damn… it’s gonna be a tough mental barrier to break.

I am a belly-dancer. I may gyrate twitchily, my Arab wave might evoke a traffic cop at a busy intersection, and my knees are a mess by the end of it all, but by gum, I'm owning it. Our mutual friend had extolled the womanly virtues of the dance, and she wasn't kidding. The spectacle of twenty-some women gyrating together was so lovely and sinuous that I kept forgetting to do my chest circles. The costumes! The drapy Jasmine-style Aladdin pants! The midriffs, all ripply and tattooed and undulating! It put me in mind of the bathhouse; there's something so sharply elegant about real shapes moving unashamedly, the way they're meant to. And then there's the delicious contrast between the sharp crisp hip thrusts of a shimmy and the jiggling that follows--that's MEANT to follow, that is neither an embarrassment nor a reason to go to the gym, but a deliberate and choreographed aftershock.

Ah, the acid slightly intestinal fragrance of dishwater. I feel for you poor nose. I've taken to wearing gloves because I can't stand that smell--as definite and recognizable as garbage or vomit or fart. No matter what's in the garbage or the sink, the smell is so deadly and so consistent. We could bottle it. We could call it Organic Chrism--eau de toilette--and package it in red, yellow and blue bottles (depending on the detergent used in preparation). We could hire Heathers impersonators and have the appropriate 80s-color-coded Heather promote each varietal. "What's your damage?" would be the ad campaign. Finally, we'd release the eau de parfum: the Veronica--more musky, less citrus, with barf accents replaced by bass notes of Drain-0 and milk. Our ad-line? "Want Big Fun?"

And this brings us to Mad Men, which I'm dying to hear your thoughts on. One more thing re: smells: Have you tried rubbing a lemon on your hands after? It helps! And if you squeeze it out onto a tomato with some olive oil and salt, it's not even wasted.

I'm running off to read Gwendolyn Brooks' thoughts on Dickinson, since I have to teach the latter this afternoon. That is all for now. Farewell, my lovely.

Fondly,
Millicent

Anyway, the teacher I mentioned in that second post said she was sorry via my teacher awhile back. I can forgive, and I have, but unfortunately I cannot just let go and forgot. That was a very hurtful time for me.

Also here’s my belly dancing teachers website just out of interests sake.
http://www.bellydancing.co.za/

Right now I just have so many crossroads open that I’m not sure which path is the best for me.
I have “passing” as a girl on my mind, but at the same time I want to be recognized for who I really am – an effeminate guy, but still a guy at the end of the day.
I also don’t know how far I should take the belly dancing? There is probably a market for a male belly dancer (crossdressed or not) so I wonder if I can eventually make some extra money out of it.
I used to be dead scared people would think I’m gay, but now that I’ve actually experienced that incorrect assumption in real life – I’m actually not too concerned if people do think that. I could even use that assumption to my advantage cause Cape Town is supposed to be very gay friendly.

I suppose the fairytale ending of this blog would be if I could dress and act how I wanted, when I wanted, without worrying about what others think (within reason, of course).
That’s still a long way off though.

Belly dance is fun and it also has a purpose other than weight control--dancing is it's own accomplishment.  In fact, it is very size friendly**--my former teacher is a beautiful, graceful, strong woman who is also my size.  And I wasn't bad at it--the only thing keeping me from performances was ingrained stage fright and lack of time.  I only stopped when I was seven months pregnant and too tired to leave the house.

And lately I've been finding myself shimmying my hips, just a little--at the sink when I wash dishes, in the bathroom just after I wash my hands, for the amusement of Baby after I diaper her.  I've sneaked a slow undulation or two into a stretch at work.  And when I do arms movements for yoga, I do snake arms.

So, I took out the yoga and put in Bellydance for Wimps.  I decided to do the ten moves and the combination dance at the end.  The results were both encouraging and ouch.  

The horizontal hip circles (standing and traveling) and the figure eights were old friends, the hip drop-kicks were surprisingly easy to get back to--despite the DVD teacher counting them like hip lifts, which threw me.  I was feeling pretty confident until the undulations. 

An undulation is sort of a torso-wave from sternum to belly, with a little rear end in it, too.  Since Baby's emergency C-section arrival, I've forgotten I ever had stomach muscles, so now I pretty much don't.  The DVD started slow but then quickly had me doing four fast undulations in a circle.  With arms.  Repeatedly.  Which I did because, um, that's what I do.  It was part of the workout.***  I also overdid the shoulder shimmies, which I could have done with lowered arms, but didn't.  Because, you know . . .

Those disclaimers at the beginning of workout programs saying that the company isn't liable if viewers maim themselves while following along?  Those would be for me.

But the dance itself, at the end?  Wonderful.  Not perfect--who would be perfect after 30 minutes?  But it was coming back to me.  I remember the joy.

I don't think I'll buy this program--it's not quite what I'm looking for, and the style is a little too Little Egypt (as opposed to traditional) for my taste. 

But I think I'll call my old teacher and see what classes she might be leading now.  And I'll start practicing some of the other moves and isolations I remember.

Tomorrow--after I take some ibuprofen . . .

______________

*What if it isn't enough of a workout?  What if I don't find this out until it's too late to do something else?  What if it takes too long (the library sticker is right over the program length info) and Baby cries and husband is downstairs watching whatever sport is on this week?  That would be my little compulsive exercise obsession thingie--read on for more.

**I actually had problems dancing when I was at my lowest adult weight--hips are necessary for belly dancing, and a little extra weight helps rebound moves like shimmying and decisive moves like hip drops.  And frankly, I didn't have the energy to keep up.  Plus, my hipscarves kept sliding off.

***One or two moves were done while lowering the body from the knees, and I did modify those because I do react to intense stabbing pains in both of those poor, abused joints.   I am getting older and I am not quite stupid enough to actually cripple myself--or at least not this way.

Anyway, I’ve had some sort of self-realization that even though it’s difficult for me to be attention grabbing (cause I’m shy), a part of me does crave attention. I want people to notice me, and I get a slight sense of contentment when older guys look at me with disapproval (although lately I’ve been thinking it could also be desire or regret). I also like that some guys find me attractive even though I’m not even interested in fooling around with them.

Yet another rendezvous I’ll be taking is belly dancing exams. The teacher set it out as an option, and I’ve decided I’ll give it a shot. Taking exams will force me to take it more seriously and … I suppose it could open up some doors for me. I’ll also do it to prove a point to myself.

Okay, so I'm remiss in my sequence of storytelling.  The day began at Country Village in the city of Bothell, Washington, USA.  They have a delightful collection of old houses/shacks which positioned together, create themed retail storefronts.  In the middle of the cluster, one can find an outdoor "stage" of sorts with a large patio or "square" which turned out to be ideal for under-tent-seating on this 90F day.

The members of Somewhere in Time, Unlimited had gathered together for a picnic lunch followed by "gypsy dancing".  Oh my!  I hadn't seen such talent all in one afternoon anywhere else in the Seattle area.  Of course, I don't go to Hemp Fest or other bellydancing sort of gatherings, but I did find it interesting none the less. 
Guests were also treated to traditional Flamenco dancing performed by fellow SITU member Miss Pippin.  The Event was organized by fellow bellydancer and SITU member Miss Marion.  She did an awesome job to bring everyone and everything, together.  Participants had a delightful, tho hot, afternoon!

Photos will be posted out on the regular website of SITU.  Click HERE to see photos of this event.

If you'd like to hook up with us for some other Event or Dress-up Opportunity, please let me know!  We'd love to have you come along!  See our Calendar if there might be something of interest to you....

Fond smiles from the NW corner of these GREAT United States,
Auntie Rita

I came across some excellent video of Köçek dancers in Turkey recently, thought I'd post a bit about them.  Köçek (say Kocheck, sometimes spelled Kocek, Kojek, Kochek) are male dancers dancing in essentially female costumes - although not exactly in drag.  The style dates from Ottoman Turkey when Köçek (male) and Çengi (female) dancers were kept as part of the court entertainers.  Both Köçek and Çengi danced in feminine style.  Beautiful young children were chosen mostly from among the non-Muslim populations (Jewish, Armenian, Greek and other conquered cultures) and were trained in the court styles of dance and music.  During much of that time both Köçek and Çengi were used as prostitutes as well as performers. 

While the Çengi only performed in private settings, the Köçek performed in public as well as in the court.  Köçek dancers were attached to the court or organized into performance companies called Kol.  These companies included musicians, singers, dancers and actors and performed a variety of styles of music, dance and entertainment.  Among the Köçek dances is a style is recorded as being seductive and done in female dress.  From The Belly Dance Book:

According to 17th century Turkish traveler Eviliya Chelebi, in 1538 there were twelve kolsin Turkey with over three thousand performers.  These troupes frequently were hired to entertain the crowds at public festivals by the dignitaries of state who organized them and could also be seen at processions and parades.  When the Sultan's armies left for battle or returned, musicians, clowns, jugglers and dancers preceded them. 

The word Köçek comes from the Persian kuchak, "little," "small," or "young."  In the Ottoman court, Köçek boys performed until they could no longer hide their beards or "lost their youthful beauty".  Jasmin Jahal writes:

They were young boys who were sensuous, attractive, effeminate, and carefully trained in music and dance. Their dancing was sexually provocative and impersonated female dancers. It incorporated ladylike walking, finger snapping (a special two-handed finger snap), slow belly movements, suggestive gestures, acrobatics, and playing wooden clappers called calpara or, in later times, metal cymbals called zils.

Today, Köçek dancing is still seen in Turkey, although it has changed form to a more folkloric and less sexualized dance and is now done by adult men, still in skirts, beards and all.  Still, once can sometimes see it's roots in the movement. 

Here are some clips of contemporary Köçek dancers:

This one is from "Bak Kim Dans Ediyor"... "Look, Who is Dancing!" which is the Turkish production of Dancing With The Stars. (I've seen video on this show of a variety of dances including oriental, Persian, lyrical, rock disco, Samba, modern Jazz, and ballroom.)  I'm not sure this is the most aesthetic version of the dance, but you've got to admire their enthusiasm and I especially love the cartoon BooOOyOOOYoooYoing sounds that go with the pelvic thrusts...

Lots more videos at the Folkloric Vodpod link http://azizasaidfolkloricbd.vodpod.com

A bit more about Köçek history, in case you're interested in the details...

The Ottoman Empire lasted from mid 1300's through the early 1900's.  At some times, female performers weren't permitted and performers like the Köçek took their place.  In other times both men and women were included in the musicians, dancers and entertainers.   In general Köçek performed in public settings and Çengi performed at private homes or social events.

A bit about the end of the dance in it's original form, from The Belly Dance Book:

Sometimes the crowds became over enthusiastic in their admiration and on many occasions quarrels broke out among the spectators. ... Unfortunately, performances often devolved into fights and riots.  These were so common that in order to put an end to the quarrels among his Jannisaries (soldiers) Sultan Mahmoud first forbade and then passed a law prohibiting the performances of Kochecks in 1857.   Many of them fled to Egypt, where they were employed by Mohamed Ali Pasha.  Ironically, twenty-three years earlier in 1834, Mohamed Ali banished the female dancers (Ghawazee) from Cairo in an attempt to keep them from the view of European men. 

There is some historical disagreement on the source of the costume.  From The Belly Dance Book, we have this:

Many Europeans... who saw male dancers, described their costume as being half male, half female:  The upper half being a shirt of some kind or a vest and the lower half what they called a petticoat.  To them, the sight of a brightly colored skirt suggested femininity.  This, again, was a cultural misunderstanding.  Ordinary men and male performers can be seen wearing outfits of this description throughout the Mediterranean and Asia.  For example, Greek soldiers, called Evzones, wore an elaborate pleated skirt and still do for special occasions.  The male dancers of Tunisia perform a dance balancing a stack of water jugs on their heads.  Their costume is the same as mentioned by Lane, a shirt witha vest and a "petticoat" which is ankle length, with a sash tied around the waist.  sometimes the skirt reaches the shinbone.  As late as 1926, there was a dagger dance performed by the Druze warriors of Syria in which they wore a large pleated skirt, used only during this dance.  Even as far away as Tibet and India, male dancers can be seen wearing a costume with a wide multicolored skirt.

Several travelers to Turkey mentioned that the female Chengis were gealous of the notoriety of the male Kocheks and imitated their dress and dances.  In miniatures of Turkish female dancers, they are shown in a dress similar to what the Egyptian Ghawazeewore.  A typical costume would be a long overcoat with flowing sleeves and baggy pants.   European drawings also show them in the single or double skirt of the Kocheks.  Eyewitnesses also mentioned that the hems of Kochecks' skirts were weighted so that when they spun or pivoted, they flared out like a fan.  Given this evidence is is my belief that it was worn by both the male and female performers.

 And also this:

The upper part of the costume was a close fitting tunic with a short collar, which fell to mid thigh, often made of velvet, buttoned down the front and from the forearm to the wrist, held in place by a belt with a heavy clasp, or a sash.  Over the tunic (just below the belt), was a skirt made of silk or some other rich fabric.  They often wore a double skirt, the first being shorter and a different color than the second.  Underneath they wore fitted trousers, ankle high boots or slippers.  On their heads, they wore skullcaps or a fur cap called a culpack.

This complex costume came into vogue in the 15th century.  Earlier depictions show them wearing a much simpler costume, consisting  of an intricately embroidered robe (the same as men of the upper classes), tied with a sash and either a turban or a culpack on the head.

 From Wikipedia:

The youths, often wearing heavy makeup, would curl their hair and wear it in long tresses under a small black or red velvet hat decorated with coins, jewels and gold. Their usual garb consisted of a tiny red embroidered velvet jacket with a gold-embroidered silk shirt, shalvars (baggy trousers), a long skirt and a gilt belt, knotted at the back. They were said to be "sensuous, attractive, effeminate," and their dancing "sexually provocative," impersonating female dancers. Dancers minced and gyrated their hips in slow vertical and horizontal figure-8's, rhythmically snapping their fingers and making suggestive gestures. Often acrobatics, tumbling and mock wrestling were also part of the act. The köçeks were available sexually, often to the highest bidder, in the passive role.

While some may argue that köçek dances, costume and persona were not necessarily effeminate or trans-gender, there is a strong Turkish cultural idea that suggests it is.  In the 1975 Turkish movie Kocek, the main character Caniko is called "Kocek" by other men, and sometimes confused for a woman.  From one analysis of the film:

Caniko is thus an aggressive and assertive young man. But even he is aware of his ambiguous sex. Whilst staring at his smooth, unblemished face in the mirror he threatens to cut himself (a form of punishment a man inflicts on a woman for disobedience) if he doesn't obey his desires to look more like a man. As Caniko, the protagonist is restless, frustrated, unhappy. An irrepressible desire he has is to dance. In the streets he dances; in the tavern he dances; on tables he dances. Whilst watching a belly dancer with his male friends he is disturbed. Here Caniko is the spectator, not the spectacle. He usurps the female dancer and becomes the spectacle by starting to dance in front of his friends. By attracting the male gaze he takes on female form. In his discussion of Jacques Lacan and Laura Mulvey, Madan Sarup writes: The male subject is the imagined source of the gaze and the female subject is the imagined recipient of the gaze. Indeed, in our culture, voyeurism is the active or 'masculine' form of the scopophilic drive (pleasure in looking at another person as an erotic object), while exhibitionism is the passive or 'feminine' form of the same drive(1992: 158).

So Caniko is confused, or rather society sees him as a tangle, both physically and scopophilically. His desire is to be a man who is gazed upon. Yet, society will only allow the woman to be the recipient of the gaze. Even when he isn't dancing, Caniko connotes what Laura Mulvey calls "to-be-looked-at-ness" (1985: 309). Caniko, whether he likes it or not, has an "erotic impact" on men. It isn't necessarily that they think he's a woman and therefore desire him. It is more likely they desire him and thus think of him as a woman.

Turkish culture recognizes the Köçek as effeminate men.  Interestingly, while contemporary Islam views homosexuality with great prohibition, Middle Eastern cultures historically do not.  There is a multi-gender view that has subtle gradations.. there are masculine men, effeminate men, men who wish to take on women's roles, and feminine women, masculine women, and women who wish to take on men's roles.  The idea of "homosexual" as used in the west (a sort of one-size-fits-all label) doesn't really apply.  A man who wishes to be desired by other men is not seen as the same as as one who desires other men... they fall in different places on the social and acceptability scale.  There is apparently a rich resource of traditional songs, poems and literature that has either been ignored or mistranslated over the years.  Here's an example from Abu Nuwas, a Persian/Arabic poet of the late 700's as translated in Carousing with Gazelles:

The Lovers

Blessed indeed are these two loving friends; They sleep through the night, in an embrace without end.

They have loved each other since birth, so they say; With strong, equal loves, alike all the way.

When Love came to them, they told him what to do: "Do the right thing, Lobe and split Love in two!"

So Love split himself, in two equal parts; Hard work! But no thwarting those strongly-knit hearts.

Their two souls became one soul, and then; That one soul lived in the two loving men.

These two don't quarrel; they avoid any strife; They guard their love as more precious than life.

Aziza

I thought this would be a good opportunity to try out 'the bus'. People have told me about buses and I have often seen them on the road, and cursed them. It is an unsettling experience to share a vehicle, however large and red, with members of the base public. For half an hour I was forced to endure the company of two dozen ordinary British citizens. Half of them were distinctly non-human. I stared at them, fingering my swordstick and wondering at the constitution of their internal organs.

And then the noise began. At first I mistook it for a misfiring Muslim bomb but it was in fact some manner of portable noise device. At the back of the bus were three large black youths, dressed in baggy sports clothing and gold chains, drinking alcohol and shouting. I stood for a better view; I advanced slowly, staring at this new and horrific life form. I was, dear reader, quite transfixed with fascination. The noise was their special music. A coarse neanderthal voice bellowed over the noise as follows:

This rap shit plays a major part in my life
So if u jeopordize it i got the right
To send a muthafucker at ya tonight

The three youths nodded in agreement, beating the windows and snarling abuse and threats at passers by. I came closer yet, intent on observing the phenomenon. They were drinking Mad Dog 20-20 (a kind of inferior champagne, I believe). They had gold teeth and tattoos.

Finally I stood directly over them, leaning on my swordstick, peering at their hideous and brutal visages. They saw me and the largest beast snarled something like: "yo bitch gonna cap yo' fucking ass homey what you look at fucking fool whitey I gonna fucking cut you up 'cos I is fucking for real gangster shizznit bioch the po-leece ain't gonna do a fucking thing homey fucking fucking fucking" etc. etc.

I pointed at their portable noise device and explained calmly: "I have come to listen to your special music."

And then I began the Scruton belly dance. I know many dances - the Charleston, the Tango, the Feline Butterscotch - but the Dance of the 70s Houris felt appropriate. I gyrated and wobbled and undulated and thrust my manly loins at them in time to their special music. As the 'singer' shouted threats and boasts about how many bitches he had killed, I let the spirit of dance possess me. I clapped my hands overhead and blew kisses at them, as I had seen belly dancers do once in Uzbekistan. I ululated. No doubt they had not encountered ulutation of such splendour before, in the ghetto.

They fell into an appreciatively stunned silence as I began to strip, undulating my belly at their gold teeth, and winking lasciviously. Sadly, I was unable to complete the full belly dance. As I pulled my zip down they yelped in terror and scrambled over the seats and off the bus, screaming about "gay whitey rapist bioch!"

Slowly, and to the applause of the remaining passengers, i put my clothes back on, and resumed my seat. But for those few brief moments I had been the Lord of the Dance.

1) Meet up with another crossdresser.
This one is a work in progress though. I’ve found out the crossdresser I’ve been in contact with is 44 years old and hasn’t crossdressed in quite a while – which makes me a little cautious. Maybe I’m being oversensitive, but I’ve had a less than stellar record in my contact with crossdressers old enough to be my father. Not to say older crossdressers are somehow weirder than younger crossdressers, it’s just that it would be ideal to meet someone my age who I can closely relate to.

2) Go to the hairdresser I was recommended to see
My belly dancing teacher recommended I see this guy cause at the very least she said I would find it interesting. He’s apparently a very over-the-top girly gay guy who crossdressers, but is “married” and with an adoptive daughter. Anyway, the idea is that he’ll help me with a hairstyle that I can switch between masculine and feminine, as well as with hair extensions.

3) Buy a “dressier” top
Yeah, I’ve kinda realized my girl wardrobe is a little … plain. So I guess I’ll try spice it up, although the normal casual look is my personal ideal.

4) Do belly dancing in the girls’ class
The only thing keeping me back from this one is my skill level. The girls apparently would like me there and I’m willing to give it a try, but I’m also taking the belly dancing seriously so I’d only rather do it if we’re at similar skill levels. I’ll have to ask about this one.

I think these might keep me busy for a short while, but I’ll invite anyone to make any suggestions for future work.