Rena Farajova, a resident of Regina, shares her personal journey in this First Person account. To explore more of CBC’s First Person stories, visit theFAQ page.
At the age of ten, I found myself in a lavish ballroom, heart pounding with excitement. The dazzling stage lights, gleaming floor, and palpable anticipation created a mesmerizing atmosphere. From the tender age of three, I had been immersed in Azerbaijani national dances with the children’s ensemble called “Cücələrim” (Chicks). These dances emphasized the fluidity of movements and the gracefulness of gestures, bringing immense joy to my childhood. Each performance felt enchanting, and the ability to spread happiness through dance filled me with pride.
However, my aspirations of dancing were abruptly halted by a medical setback. At the age of ten, I was diagnosed with arrhythmia and heart valve issues, disrupting the proper circulation of blood in my heart. The diagnosis meant excruciating chest pains and erratic breathing patterns, rendering dancing too hazardous for my health. This news felt like a devastating closure to a significant part of my life — dance, which had been my essence, my happiness, and my pulse, was suddenly taken away.
The impact of my illness extended beyond dance. The recurring pain resurfaced during stressful exams or heavy workloads, serving as a constant reminder of my limitations. As a dream-filled child, being advised to slow down was unbearable.
Following numerous treatments and painful procedures, my physical condition gradually improved. Although my body was healing, the void left by the absence of dance lingered.
Yet, the yearning persisted. Healing physically was one aspect, but living without dance posed another challenge. While witnessing my peers continue their pursuits, I felt as though mine had prematurely ended.
Entering my twenties, I sought solace in recreational ballroom and Latin dance classes, not for performances or competitions but to rediscover the joy of movement. Reverting to professional national dancing at a recreational level seemed like a betrayal of its profound significance to me, so I embraced a fresh start in a different domain.
In my culture, we believe that music resonates within our bones when it plays — an irresistible force. Even after years of silence, the rhythmic essence remained alive within me.
Upon relocating to Canada with my family, I assumed that part of my life was firmly in the past.
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Immigrating is a journey marked by hope and loss. Opting for Canada was driven by the promise of a better future for our children. Initially, I feared that life would become too hectic and that the local community might not appreciate my cultural heritage.
My days quickly filled up with familial duties and work responsibilities, causing dance, once the focal point of my life, to slip away once again.
Yet, an inner yearning compelled me to preserve my roots. I endeavored to share my heritage through food, narratives, and home-based traditions. Surprisingly, the local populace displayed genuine curiosity and interest. In 2023, in collaboration with friends, we established