Flirty dancing

>> Lookin' for love in all the Latin places

by MARITES CARINO

Merengue, salsa, cha-cha, samba, rhumba, tango. Never had the cheek to try these out? Whether you're part of a couple or a lonely singleton, it's never too late to find out if these dances could hold the same latent sizzle potential for you as they did for Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey in the '80s.

With Valentine's Day just around the corner, I got ahold of a book called Dirty Dancing: How to Do It. It promises to teach you to "make the moves that will move your partner." After studying the footwork patterns, I set out to discover if Latin rhythms are still working their magic in the club scene. I was flying solo because none of my so-called friends would join the flight. Although reluctant to go alone because of the sleezoid factor, I decided to tough it out. After all, social dance exists to unite the sexes for harmless physical flirtation. Right?

My club crawl starts at the Salsathèque on Peel, the Club Price of Latin dance venues. My table features a built-in fountain that waters a palm tree at the centre. I feel vulnerable under the spinning coloured lights and take out my notebook as a repellent, scribbling notes to syncopated rhythms.

Before long, I feel a penetrating laser gaze directed at my left cheekbone. Next thing I know, he's asking me if I'm writing a book. No. I abandon my stool and am whisked onto the dance floor. Suddenly, the footprints in my head are in a 52 pickup pile and I can't remember anything. Miguel attempts to teach me the merengue, but I'm feeling gimpy because I'm stepping on his feet, and he's shorter than me--no small feat. He spins me off to a Canary Islander, who informs me that it's easier to feel the rhythm if you dance closer, crunching my leg into his crotch.

Next, I try my luck at 649, a club around the corner on Ste-Catherine. Here I meet Latin dance teacher Sandra Campanelli, who loves this type of dance: "It's got so much feeling and it warms you up even though it's cold outside. With most dance music, you dance so far away from each other, there's no contact." And there's certainly plenty of contact between the older couple doing the pelvic thrust in front of me. I've noticed the clients at these clubs are multi-generational and multicultural.

"People are lonely, they come here to meet people and it's not so obvious they're trying to pick each other up because they're only 'dancing!'" Campanelli chuckles, giving me a nudge. She then teaches me a basic salsa step, which I try out on the dance floor with Juan, who chomps his gum to the bongo beats, and is "only dancing" with me.

Last stop: La Playa on St-Laurent. Luis, just returned from Chile, leads me to the dance floor. It's a merengue--I can now tell. He's hip-swivelling me and shaking my hands like maracas. A different rhythm starts and he tells me it's a bachata, which originates from the Dominican Republic. It amazes me how everyone I've met automatically identifies and moves effortlessly to these various dances. Then his friend points at the gold-sequined clad quartet: "This band is bullshit!" Suddenly I hear brass instruments, but there are none on stage. It's closin' time.

So what did I glean from this night out? It's not all about bawdy mustachioed men, a lot of these clubs offer free lessons and it was easy and amusing learning different steps. One more tip: if you're looking for a Valentine, or a Valentino for that matter, go alone and carry a pen and notebook.