KEY POINTS:
The Salon Canning is an authentic milonga, a bare hall in the old Palermo district of Buenos Aires where dancers gyrate into the early morning to Argentina's most distinctive musical style, the tango.
At one of the tables a tall, dark-haired man scans the room, his attention resting on female tourists sitting alone or in groups waiting to be asked to dance.
He is not a tango instructor or a lothario seeking easy prey. Eduardo Amarillo is a "tango taxi dancer," and he aims to ensure no tango-loving foreigner leaves Argentina without twirling a few times around the floor.
"I learned the tango from my grandmother in the 1970s," says Amarillo, 39, dressed in rigorous black.
Like many Argentinians of his generation, Amarillo forgot about the tango as he grew older and the milongas went out of fashion.
But now the tango has made a startling comeback. Boosted by the worldwide success of reality TV shows such as Strictly Come Dancing and Dancing with Stars, Argentinians have rediscovered their tango roots and Amarillo is among those who have started frequenting the old tango salons that still dot the city.
But with foreign visitors flocking in to the home of the dance, Amarillo noticed that some returned home without having tangoed.
The milongas follow a pecking order in which only the best women dancers are asked to dance. Approaching a man is heresy in the tango bible, and a tourist breaking this rule will be rebuked by an experienced dancer.
"Male tango dancers can be merciless," says Mariana Lopez, a 40-year-old psychologist and tango aficionado. "They won't ask you unless they've seen you dancing already."
Two years ago Amarillo realised here was an opportunity to provide a hassle-free service for foreigners, guaranteeing some of the real tango flavour without any of the attendant risks. Today he heads a group of 25 "tango taxi dancers" who charge US$20 ($26.50) an hour for a night of real-feel tango.
The decor at the Salon Canning is austere at best. Bare walls surround square tables embraced by nondescript chairs. This place is all about dancing.
At Amarillo's table sits one of his clients, a New York executive, who makes it clear she is not here for the tango's sexual promise. "For me, the tango is not about sex; it's about intimacy, a chance to be 'there' with another person for an incredibly intimate three minutes. It's a metaphysical more than physical experience."
Tango connoisseur Marina Palmer, 38, author of Kiss and Tango, an account of her experiences at the milongas in Buenos Aires, said: "It is difficult to separate the sex from the dance. It is a shared experience where a woman can surrender control to the man, and that is sensual for anyone. The tango can be more intimate than sex, sometimes it is better than sex."
At La Catedral, a milonga with an indie atmosphere in the district of Almagro, the crowd is younger and the atmosphere relaxed. The music blends electro-tango (tango tunes set to techno beats) with the traditional repertoire at Salon Canning. Here some dancers sport tattoos and dreadlocks.
"This is the young tango underground," says Federico Prado, 38, a former street musician and one of its co-owners.
"The codes are more relaxed and foreigners appreciate that."
But even in this chilled-out lounge the mystery of the tango is difficult to resolve.
Prado is decidedly the tango opposite of Amarillo.
"The tango gives men a role and it provides women with a human contact lacking elsewhere," he says.
Amarillo says: "The tango is primal. It is rhythm, embrace and eye contact."
- Observer
