Edmonton Journal
Saturday, March 5, 2005
Page: D6
Section: Ed
Byline: Olivia Cheng
Source: The Edmonton Journal

When the Rum Jungle Fly Girls talk about their part-time jobs dancing in one of West Edmonton Mall's biggest and busiest nightclubs, imaginations tend to run wild.

"People automatically think stripper," explains 20-year-old Layne Arceta, who joined the hip-hop dance crew four months ago.

Fly Girl founder Kerry Koble admits, since the group formed last summer, there's been constant pressure to play up their sex appeal.

"Rum is a nightclub," she shrugs. "Sometimes they want to push us over in that direction as far as what outfits we should wear, or what songs we use."

But fellow Fly Girl Shila Mayes is quick to stress they don't "just walk around in a thong. (We're) showing skill up there on stage."

Indeed, incredible skill is what sets these girls apart from other stereotypical go-go dancers. Every weekend, these hip-hop hotties step into the Rum Jungle spotlight in front of thousands of club patrons to bust out complicated choreography that rivals anything you see on MuchMusic or MTV.

Koble, 26, once donned a blond wig and black corset to recreate the Britney Spears Me Against the Music video while Mayes wowed crowds starring as Mary J. Blige in a tribute to old-school tunes.

Along with their stage shows, the Fly Girls freestyle on podiums peppered throughout the club and are gaining a growing fan base - primarily made up of other girls.

"That's what surprises me the most," laughs Mayes. "It's easy for a guy to say, 'Hey you're really good' but when you hear a girl say, 'You guys are incredible, you're so inspirational,' that's when you know you're doing something right because other girls are usually the hardest to impress."

Mayes says the fanfare's also pretty amazing considering that just a year ago it was nearly "impossible" to find work dancing in Edmonton because "there's no opportunity here."

Most dancers who dream of a professional career are forced to move away, says Koble. "When you do get people who hit a certain level of talent, they leave," she says.

"And we're trying to create something here where (dancers) don't have to go away so fast."

Arceta says she too felt "frustrated" while "working (as a busgirl) at some German banquet hall" instead of pursuing her passion.

It was the lack of performing opportunities that drove Koble to create the Fly Girls in the first place. "I love to dance. And when you want to do something so much but you can't, it's just as restrictive as being a painter and not being able to paint. Or painting but there's no one ever to see it."

So while working as a shooter girl at Rum, she approached the owners about letting her take over the club's live entertainment.

"There was total skepticism at first," she recalls. But a number of free shows and three months of negotiations later, the Fly Girls became a reality and "now Rum really appreciates us."

Arceta says the appreciation runs both ways. "It's exciting. And it's kind of a relief to finally get paid to do something I love to do."

Koble adds that "there's nothing more exciting" than having a regular venue and huge crowd to perform for.

She concedes those performances aren't always problem-free though.

"Sometimes a fight will break out and bouncers will run across the stage while we're performing."

The girls have also been groped while dancing on podiums and Mayes once had a near wardrobe malfunction when her bra strap broke on stage.

Mayes says hammered club patrons aren't always the most appreciative of the arts either.

"They're so drunk and they're right in front of the stage but they're facing the other way. And we're busting our asses on stage while they have no idea we're even there."

The Fly Girls say it's all part of the gig though.

"I look at it like as long as we're here, and Rum wants us, we'll be there," Kerry says.
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