Wendy Bradfield found her life's calling in the pages of a newspaper. "It was advertised in the paper that someone was offering belly-dance classes. I was the only student in the class, and they went ahead and had the class anyway," laughed the Lansing Community College student. "After hearing the music and getting a feel of the moves, I knew that was what I was going to pursue in terms of dance and a career. I was very connected immediately.

"It was love at first sight."

Bradfield, also known by her stage name "Eshta," is a professional dancer specializing in traditional Middle Eastern folk dances. She recently returned to the United States after spending three years abroad studying Arabic language and dance, while performing seven nights a week in countries such as Algeria and Egypt.

"It was always in my head, 'Oh, wow, what a dream, maybe I could take a trip there someday,'" she said of her decision to travel to the Middle East. "One day I was just sitting around my house and I decided I had to go. I didn't know if I had what it would take to be a dancer over there, but I decided I had to try anyway."

Bradfield said she spent a short time saving money for the trip and, in 2001, found herself in Cairo, Egypt, without knowing anyone and without a place to live. She enrolled in classes at the American University in Cairo and eventually found work as a professional dancer.

There were plenty of trials and turbulent times being a dancer in a foreign land, she said. During the summer, she performed daily at dance clubs, weddings and international festivals, often dancing at more than one venue each night. Bradfield would not disclose how much money she made as a dancer in the Middle East.

But even as a foreigner living and dancing in the Middle East before, during and after the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks, she said she didn't receive any anti-American resentment during her stay. She simply refers her time there as "the wildest ride of my life."

"I have nothing but good things to say about people in that respect," she said. "I've never felt threatened or degraded in any way being an American over there."

Since returning to the United States, Bradfield now takes classes at LCC and performs with the Habibi Dancers, a professional Lansing-based troupe dedicated to learning and performing authentic Middle Eastern dances. Habibi means "sweetheart" in Arabic.

"It's important to bring things back here and educate people," Bradfield said, adding that she hopes to go back to the Middle East next year to spend another summer dancing professionally.

Until then, Bradfield keeps her passion for the dance alive through the Habibi Dancers.

On Wednesday night, the tinkling of tiny beads, jangling of metal coins and squeaking of bare feet on wood floors resonated over the exotic music ringing through the Foster Community Center in Lansing where the Habibis hold their weekly practices.

In a small, brightly lit room, nearly two dozen women twirled, shimmied and sashayed to the beats pumping through a small CD player tucked away in the corner. Resembling a rainbow in their colorful silk skirts, beaded hip scarves and wispy head wraps, the dancers raised their arms delicately to the side and took turns practicing intricate footwork in front of a mirrored wall.

Garnett Kepler, who has been artistic director of the troupe for 13 years, said not all members take the art as far as soloists such as Bradfield, but that everyone shares a passion for the dance - regardless of their age or other careers.

"They come from all walks of life," she said. "We have everyone from librarians to nurses. We've had three Ph.D.s in our troupe. They range in age from 18 to our eldest, who is 70."

Kepler said Middle Eastern dancing attracts women for several reasons, including exercise, cultural interest and the dance form's sexy image.

"Not all stereotypes are bad," she said. "They know they're going to shake their booty. They know the music is going to be fun."

But the group also seeks to dispel some of those stereotypes by learning proper techniques and formations and by presenting itself as an educational, as well as an entertaining experience.

"There really is a dramatic misconception in the U.S. about a lot of things that have to do with the Middle East," said Lansing resident Kristi Grew, who has been a part of the Habibi Dancers for nine years. "Being able to be culturally and historically correct in the dance we offer gives us a chance to educate an audience even though they don't know they're being educated.

"We're going to show you what belly dancing really is, not what it's been twisted to be."

Grew, like many of the other women in the troupe, was initially attracted to Middle Eastern dance as an alternative option for low-impact exercise. But as she learned more about the art form's history and traditions, she fell in love, she said.

"A lot of people come because they're like, 'Belly dance - that might be kinky,'" she said. "But it's beautiful. It's graceful. And at the end of the day, when you're sweating your fool head off and your muscles ache because you've been practicing for three hours, your soul feels good."

Some of the dancers said a downside to the dance is that it can be expensive for those who only pursue it as a hobby. The elaborate costumes, often custom-made and hand-sewn with heavy beads and coins, can cost anywhere from $200 to more than $1,000.

But for women like Bradfield, the costs are outweighed by her love of the dance.

"It's the music, first and foremost," she said. "Music can have such an affect on people, and for me, it was definitely the music, but also the intensity behind such an ancient art form," she said. "There's a sense of spirituality in it for me.

"This is a pastime in some people's lives," she said. "But not for me. This comes first."

Emily Bingham is The State News projects reporter. She can be reached at binghame@msu.edu.