I'm Not a Dancer - Just ask my Wife and Daughter

"I'm a lover not a dancer, I'm a lover not a dancer

I'm just a little bit tired if you know what I mean.

Don't want to be in a crowd when I can be in a dream"

(Jim Steinman)

In this past week I have had the privilege of visiting some amazing places, Gaza, Jerusalem, Ramallah and Bethlehem and meeting some spectacular people. There are so many stories I could tell but one that remains etched in my hearing and memory starts with a Child Friendly Space (CFS) in Gaza. 

It takes about 1.5 hours to travel to Gaza from Jerusalem - but the contrasts between the two are numerous and stark. This is a tough place and it breeds a tough, resilient people. Amongst these are a group of a dozen young girls who have come to a CFS to learn English. Climbing the stairs to the second floor of a very basic concrete building I hear the sound of very loud Arabic music. I walk through the door to the sound of a unison Arabic greeting. Standing in four straight lines are the young girls from 12 to 16 years old in white hijab, black clothes and shy but large smiles and dancing eyes.

They sing an Arabic welcome song and then one of them comes to the front and in English announces that the visitors will now join them to sing a song. We form a circle, wondering what on earth we are in for, and they start singing, in English, and doing the actions to "If you're happy and you know it: clap your hands... stamp your feet... nod your head... turn around... shout "Allah, Allah". I join in and together we pound our fists in the air as we shout Allah.

But they thought that was it, no way - in Australia we "do all five" I say! So we lead them in a hilarious version of all five and finish laughing and dizzy together.

Back in our seats, the girls tell us that they would like to perform asong that they had learnt in English. To the accompaniment of a track from Maher Zain the sing and dance to "Freedom". With enthusiasm and passion they raise their arms and emphasis the two fingered Peace symbol as they sing this prayer for peace and freedom.

Swallowing the lump in my throat it is time to watch as the girls transition from this cry for hope to perform a traditional wedding dance. Dressed up as groom and bride, it is exciting and thrilling to watch the intricate hand movements and footwork, until one of them grabs my hand and pulls me up to join in - don't they know I'm not a dancer!

I don't dance, I have enough trouble with the waltz, (just ask my wife) let alone doing the fancy footwork of the 'groom'. But laughing at the uncoordinated white guy is a great stress relief, and after all it's all about humanitarian relief. (I am glad to say there is no photographic evidence that can ever be produced!)

I am always reminded in these visits of the reason I do what I do, and why it matters. I wish I could convey that message to you, but please know - giving hope, as intangible as you may think it is, matters, and means much to girls like these.