Hemira – The Dancer
Hello there, I am Hemira, but you can call me Hemi – all my friends do. I have just returned from a banquet at the regional governor’s house, in honour of the King. I am a dancer and acrobat in a musical troupe, with my two best friends playing the lyre and singing. We took pride of place at the event, which was full of colour, music and good food. I danced with all my might for the gods and for the King, until the air was full of frenzy and we were breathless, glowing with sweat. I am still catching my breath, but I can still feel the rush of energy in my veins.
As I danced, I felt everyone’s eyes on me, and I wondered what my life would have been like if I had not been called to dance… As a little girl, I always dreamed of being a priestess, dedicating myself to the glory of the gods – I had never wanted to be my husband’s chattel. I desire eternal life. I have even been collecting favours to save enough to commission a stela in my own name. I want my name to be remembered for generations to come!
I once had the opportunity to enter the palace and be a steward to a princess, but when my father brought shame to the family, that prospect vanished into thin air… just like my father. On quiet evenings, I sometimes pretend that I am in the palace. After all these years, perhaps I would have been promoted to the overseer of ornaments or the overseer of cloth. Imagine being able to touch such riches – surely, I would have tried them on. If I had been caught, it would have been the end of me! But if I had been a weaver, then I could touch the textiles to my heart’s content. However, those upright looms look too complicated, and I just know I would have lost a finger or two!
Of course, if I were a nurse, I would be versed in the sacred ways of healing – such an honoured role, elevated by the knowledge of how to bring children into the world. Imagine if I were the wet nurse of the next pharaoh, fostering the future of Egypt! But I doubt my heart could bear it... to nourish a child and then surrender them, or worse, to watch so many enter the next world before their first birthday.
Maybe it’s better that I am a dancer after all.
I saw my childhood friend, Naunakht, earlier in the day. She has been married twice and has eight grown children! Despite being mistress of the house, she has no time to be idle. Being in charge of household affairs, she must oversee the buying and selling of produce, and the making of the bread and beer, not to mention keeping the servants in check. Naunakht complains that her children do not help her one bit – especially her daughters! She has threatened to disinherit them if they do not change, and will instead leave her beautiful bronze washing bowl to her son! I do not envy her position. I have seen her take out her frustration on one of the poor scavenger women walking the fields collecting the fallen ears of grain, dropped by the reapers.
Oh, how lucky I am not to have to scratch about in the dirt to survive. By dancing, my hands remain soft, my body is protected from the scorching sun, and I am shielded from a life without beauty.
Photo credit: Ashley Van Haeften, Musicians and dancers, Tomb of Nebamun