Salsa music, soul of Cali
You walk through the entrance in the dark, leaving the tropical night behind. Suddenly, waves of sound crash against you like the waves of the ocean. Breaking out in a sweat, your heart beats to the rhythm of bass, bongos, bells and brass. The walls seem to beat. The acrid smell of sweat mixed with perfume assails you. As your eyes adjust to the darkness, interrupted by the hypnotic flashes of multicolored strobe lights, you realize that it’s not the walls that enclose you, but the dancers, dozens of dancers spinning, zigzagging and swirling, the limbs blinking, hips thrusting into quarters. time You fill your lungs with the spicy aroma, adjust your belt a little and dive in. Welcome to Chango’s in Cali, Colombia, one of the most popular salsa nightclubs in Latin America.
Cali, a modern and festive city, is located in the heart of the “Valle”. When Colombians say “the Valley” they mean the Valle del Cauca, a not-so-small Garden of Eden one hundred and fifty miles long and about fifteen miles wide between the coastal ranges and the Cordillera Central. Until the turn of the century, this valley was little more than a rural outpost.
At that time, with a population of about 15,000 inhabitants, Valle del Cauca was largely cattle-raising territory, distributed in vast extensions among the “haciendados.” These were proud, almost haughty men who raised cattle for leather and meat. Some had sugar cane plantations that were used to produce the sweetener “panela” and distill the crystalline but potent “aguardiente” still drunk today. Life was slow, measured, patriarchal and unchanging.
It has been said that the Cauca region is for Colombia what the South is for the United States. In fact, there are similarities. In times past, “the hidalgos walked the unpaved streets in velvet or scarlet cloth coats embroidered and buttoned with gold and silver, their waistcoats of flowered silk, and the flounces on their shirts made of the finest batista,” says Kathleen Romoli. , author of Colombia: Gateway to. South America. And like the southern states in colonial times, large numbers of slaves were imported to work the fields and serve the nobility.
Time has brought many changes. Today, vast sugarcane plantations still line the Valley. The mechanized production of cotton, rice and cattle has made Valle del Cauca the most important agricultural area in Colombia, after “Café Rey”. And with economic growth has come industry. A sleepy colonial city in 1900, Cali has grown into a large manufacturing center with more than a thousand industries at the last count.
There’s sauce in the air
Yet with all the changes, Cali retains a homey charm, a personality unlike other cities, an atmosphere you might expect to find in the Caribbean. Romoli describes it well:
The most striking thing about Cali today is not the plaza with its imposing government buildings and ranks of taxis, along the avenues lined with giant palm trees, nor the suburbs with their modern villas and churches, whose bells ring melodies instead of ringing like Bogota. , nor the occupied factories. It is the omnipresent air of joy almost of joy. It’s not that it’s a city of many amusements; Cali is not gay by virtue of commercial facilities for organized entertainment but by the grace of God.
Cali attracts travelers from all over; tourists, businessmen, backpackers, scientists and students. And of course, salsa lovers and salsa artists. Recording studios, rumberas, discos and old clubs abound.
What is the attraction of Cali? The optimistic atmosphere of the city? The spectacular sunsets? The natural beauty of the high Andes? The vaunted beauty of their women? Maybe it’s the weather where it’s always June. Or will it be its remarkable cleanliness? Many Colombian cities are clean, but Cali is so clean that it stands out. Or maybe it’s the trees and the flowers: the billowing crimson and purple bougainvillea falling in profusion from the walls, the goblet of gold dripping from the eaves, the waxy bells of the trumpet flow, the poinsettia bushes, the magnificent gardenias, the trees with magenta leaves and crimson or other feathery green flowers -white flowers or clusters of pale pink-, the wild extravagance of flowers among which hummingbirds with iridescent green bellies flutter even in winter.
No Sauce No Dates
Cali has all of this. But without a doubt for many, the main attraction that attracts them to this charming city is Salsa music. The sensual tropical rhythms of salsa permeate the lives of more than two million people from Cali. On every bus you will hear Salsa. Go for a walk, to school or shopping there is salsa in the air. And, of course, there is Salsa on almost all of the more than two dozen local radio stations. Throughout the city, 24 hours a day, salsa is blaring from loudspeakers in the streets, parks, stores, cars, portable radios, and private homes. Cali lives and breathes Salsa. But why sauce? Many other musical traditions, styles, and types of folk music flourish in Cali (including traditional cumbia, where machete-wielding dancers trample full-busted women in ruffled skirts). What is special about the sauce? After all, vallenatos, a brand of folk music with roots dating back to the days of the Spanish conquistadors, is still wildly popular, especially when sung by artists like Colombia’s Grammy Award-winning Carlos Vives. Boleros (check out Luis Miguel’s “Inolvidable”) and merengue continue to have a strong following here.
Why has this style become so deeply embedded in the culture? For fans, the answer is simple: “I love salsa music.” Whatever the reason for its universal popularity in Cali, salsa is more than music, more than dance. It’s an indispensable social skill, explains my friend Carmenza, “No sauce, no dates.” You can’t meet others if you can’t dance.” And that’s why there are salsa dance schools all over the city. Lessons are paid by the hour. Prices range from $2 to $6 per hour for more private classes and individual -one instruction.Group classes go fast.Salsa classes are not only the place to go to learn, but also to practice and perfect your moves or learn some new ones.They are a good “meeting place” for neighborhood residents.” It’s important to dance very well or you’ll get bored,” says Sofía, an avid salsa fan.
Cali calls itself the “Salsa Capital of the World,” a title ripped from post-Fidel Cuba and often shared with New York City. But even those who oppose the “Capital of the World” will agree that Cali is without a doubt the “Salsa Capital of South America”. Top Latin salsa artists like New York’s Jerry “King of 54th Street” Gonzalez fly in regularly to strut their stuff. Anytime you can see all the famous names in salsa, performers walk by Cuba’s “Queen of Salsa”, Celia Cruz; guitarist, singer and songwriter Juan Luis Guerra from the Dominican Republic; Frank Raul Grillo, the Cuban-American also known as Machito; Reuben Blades, the popular Panamanian singer, songwriter, actor, and politician renowned for his musical innovations and traditional salsa; Willie Colon; Oscar d’Leon, and others.
THE WORLD CAPITAL OF SALSA
And you don’t have to go far in this city of dancers to hear all the different styles and variations of Salsa. Juanchito, with 120 of the best dance halls, is the beating and rhythmic heart of Cali’s salsa nightlife. Every week throughout the year, two hundred thousand locals flock to this eastern suburb to party. Cali is full of discos and old clubs for the young and not so young. Latinos of the younger generation tend to prefer a softer, more soulful music known as Salsa Romántica, popularized by bandleaders like Eddie Santiago and Tito Nieves. Internationally popular salsa singers of the 1990s included Linda “India” Caballero and Mark Anthony. Puerto Rico-based orchestra “Puerto Rican Power” is another hot group with ardent fans in both Cali and Puerto Rico.
While it’s exciting to hear famous salsa music artists from abroad, don’t forget Cali’s many outstanding world-famous groups and musicians who blend the old with the new. The classic and the innovative. It’s worth a trip to Cali just to hear the vibrant non-traditional sounds of Jairo Varela and Grupo Niche. Or other artists like “Son de Cali”, the all-female “Orquesta Canela” and Lisandro Meza who also inject new blood into the Cali salsa scene. These and the heady classic salsa sounds of Kike Santander, Joe Arroyo and Eddy Martinez thunder through the air and flow through the veins of “coca-colos” (late teens to 20-somethings) and “cuchos” alike in discos, salsatecas and even in viejatecas that attract those over 35 years of age.
When I came to Cali in 1995, I thought my salsa was fine. After all, he had picked up some smooth moves from a group of hot Puerto Rican beauties during a summer stint in San Juan. Even in my home state of Pennsylvania, there were opportunities on Friday or Saturday nights to go out and mingle with Latinos at our local Hispanic bars. I also perfected a quick paso doble in a rectangular pattern, and added twists and turns to the heavy beat. I had no problem finding and keeping dance partners. Then in Miami, during a Labor Day weekend retreat, I met a Latina beauty. I invited her to dinner and dance later that week at “La Cima”, one of the most important salsa clubs in the city, to show off my moves. She was impressed. A year later we got married and after a couple more years we moved to her native Colombia.
Colombian salsa is a different beast. The style, rhythm and timing are similar elsewhere, but it’s a different story on the dance floor. My feet recognized the rhythm, but behaved as if I were wearing Bozo shoes. For a while, I was stuck in central spots like “Cuarto Venina,” perched on the banks of the brownish, knee-high Cali River. Here you only listen, you don’t dance. The music is so soft that you can carry on a conversation while enjoying empanadas and a cold “Costeña”. It may be the perfect touch for a Sunday afternoon. Today, my Latin cutie and I are considered “cuchos” (the group of people over 35). Ten years have passed. Although we are still here, still dancing Salsa. And I’m still showing my moves.