Menga: The Dance Floor That Never Was (and Its Hidden Salsa)

Introduction: The Neighborhood That Danced in Secret

Menga, in northern Cali, is known today for its auto repair shops, warehouses, and relentless traffic. But amidst the engine noise and smell of gasoline, there is a past few remember: in the 70s and 80s, this neighborhood was a clandestine dance floor where salsa played until dawn. There were no signs, no stage, no neon lights. Just a house with a wooden floor, a record player, and neighbors who turned nights into parties. This article is for the salsomaniac who already knows San Antonio by heart, for the collector of oral histories, and for the tourist seeking something more authentic than a Zona Rosa nightclub. Here I tell you how to find the traces of that hidden salsa, the bars that no longer exist, and the famous 'house of sound' that still endures.

If you arrive in Menga today, May 2026, you will see a working-class neighborhood, with single-story houses, spare parts sales, and the occasional lunch menu restaurant. But if you know where to look, the walls still hold the echo of the congas. Let's start with the myth that started it all.

The Myth of 'Salón Menga': A Dance Academy That Never Was

Ask any Caleño over 60 about Menga and they will probably tell you about 'Salón Menga'. But here is the first plot twist: a place with that name never existed. What people call that was a private house on Carrera 1A with Calle 70, where a man named don Óscar Londoño set up an improvised dance academy in his living room. It was 1975. Don Óscar, a die-hard salsomaniac, had bought a Philips record player and a couple of speakers. Neighbors would come on Fridays and Saturdays, pay a symbolic fee of 5 pesos (about 2,000 COP today adjusted for inflation) and dance until the sun caught them.

Doña María Elena, a neighbor on the block since 1972, recalls: "That wasn't an academy like today's, with mirrors and a barre. It was don Óscar's living room, with the wooden floor he polished himself with wax. The kids learned to dance by watching the older ones. There was no teacher, just the rhythm." The house still exists, but today it is an auto repair shop. The wooden floor was replaced by greasy concrete. However, if you peek through the window (carefully, as the owners aren't too fond of curious onlookers), you can still see the nails in the walls where the Fania posters hung.

The myth grew because don Óscar never put up a sign. People would say "let's go to Salón Menga" as a code among initiates. There were no social networks, just word of mouth. Couples came from all over northern Cali, even from neighborhoods like Granada or El Prado. The police never bothered because don Óscar had a tacit agreement: the music was turned off at 2 a.m. and no liquor was sold, only soda and coffee. It was pure dancing, without drunkenness.

A curious fact: in 1978, a resident of the block, Mr. Alcides Rengifo, composed a song called "Menga en la noche", which was never commercially recorded but is still hummed by some neighbors. The lyrics speak of "a wooden house where the sound never stops". Alcides, now 82 and living in the same house, told me: "I wrote it one dawn, after dancing a son montuno that touched my soul. That song is my treasure." If you manage to find him (he lives two blocks from the repair shop), he might sing it for you in exchange for a black coffee.

What to Do: Walking Route of 4 Disappeared Bars

Menga does not have a marked tourist circuit. There are no maps or brochures. But there is a walking route you can do in an afternoon, following the traces of the salsa bars that closed decades ago. There are four key points, all within a 15-minute walk of each other. Bring water, sunscreen, and above all, a willingness to talk to people.

1. 'El Rincón del Sabor' (Calle 69 with Carrera 1B)

Today it is a hardware store. But between 1980 and 1995, it was the busiest bar in Menga. It had a Wurlitzer jukebox with 100 hard salsa records: Fania All Stars, Héctor Lavoe, Celia Cruz. The owner, don Jairo, played the music so loud it could be heard three blocks away. Neighbors complained, but no one dared to close it because don Jairo was the president of the community action board. The crisis of the 90s closed it: people stopped going because they preferred the nightclubs on Avenida Sexta. Today, if you enter the hardware store, you can still see the outline of the bar on the floor. Ask for don Jairo; his son runs the business and will tell you stories of when the jukebox played until 4 a.m.

2. 'La Cueva del Son' (Carrera 1A with Calle 71)

This was a smaller place, almost a hole in the wall. It opened in 1983 and lasted only seven years. It was run by a lady named doña Leticia, who sold empanadas and yucca pastries while salsa played. There was no dance floor; people danced in the street, on the hot asphalt. Neighbors remember doña Leticia putting a speaker in the window and the music spilling onto the sidewalk. Today the place is a grocery store. The current owner, doña Carmen, says that sometimes, when she sweeps, she finds old 50-peso coins left over from those nights. If she likes you, she will show you the hole in the wall where doña Leticia hid the cash register.

3. 'Sonora Menga' (Calle 70 between Carreras 1 and 2)

This was the largest of them all. A hall with capacity for 100 people, a tiled dance floor, and a long bar. It opened in 1977 and closed in 1992. Local orchestras like Sonora del Norte and Grupo Niche (before they were famous) performed here. The owner, a man surnamed Zapata, sold beer for 10 pesos and aguardiente for 15. The place was so popular that on weekends, lines of up to 50 people would form. Today it is a truck parking lot. Zapata's son, who lives next door, still keeps a blurry photo of the orchestra in the hall. If you offer him a beer, he will show it to you.

4. 'El Tablado' (Carrera 2 with Calle 72)

The most mythical of all. It wasn't a bar, but a private house where a group of neighbors organized dances on Saturdays. The floor was made of wooden planks over dirt, hence the name. It operated between 1975 and 1985. They didn't sell liquor; everyone brought their own bottle. The music was played by a man named don Toño, who had a collection of hard salsa vinyl records. They danced until the planks came loose. Once, in 1982, the floor partially collapsed and miraculously no one was hurt. Today the lot is a construction materials warehouse. But neighbors say that if you stand in the exact spot at 6 p.m. on a Saturday, you can still hear an echo of timbales. Reality or myth? You decide.

Where to Eat or Drink: Old Guard Food

After the route, the body craves something solid. Menga doesn't have white-tablecloth restaurants, but it does have food stalls that fed the salseros of yesteryear.

Comidas rápidas 'El Salsero' (Carrera 1B #70-12)

A hot dog and hamburger stand that has been on the same corner for 30 years. The owner, don Óscar (yes, the same one from the academy), opened it when the hall closed. His specialty is the 'salsero' hot dog: ranch sausage, criolla potato, grated cheese, and a house sauce that kicks like a son montuno. Price: 8,000 COP. Open Monday to Saturday, 6 p.m. to 11 p.m. Don Óscar will tell you stories while he prepares your order.

La Tienda de Doña Leticia (Carrera 1A #71-30)

The same one that had 'La Cueva del Son'. Today she sells groceries, but doña Leticia (now 78 years old) still makes her famous yucca and meat empanadas, which she sells for 2,000 COP each. There are no tables; you eat them on the sidewalk, like before. Ask her about the bar days and she will give you a smile and a story. Open from 8 a.m. to 7 p.m.

El Café de los Recuerdos (Calle 70 #1A-05)

A small café with two tables and a dessert display case. The owner, doña Nelly, is the daughter of one of the founders of 'Sonora Menga'. She serves black coffee (1,500 COP) and warm pandebono (1,000 COP). On the wall, she has a photo of her father with Sonora del Norte. It is the only place in Menga where you can sit down for a drink and hear salsa in the background, even if it's on an old radio. Open from 7 a.m. to 5 p.m.

How to Get There and Transportation

Menga is in northern Cali, between Avenida 3N and Carrera 1. Getting there is easy if you know how.

• By bus: Take any bus on the 'Menga' or 'Paso Ancho' route from the Transport Terminal or downtown. Get off at Calle 70 with Carrera 1. The fare is 2,600 COP (2026).
• By taxi or Uber: From downtown, about 15 minutes and 15,000 COP. From San Antonio, 20 minutes and 20,000 COP. Ask to be dropped off at Carrera 1A with Calle 70, right where the route starts.
• By private car: There is parking on Calle 71 with Carrera 2, a lot that charges 5,000 COP per hour. Do not leave valuables in sight.
• On foot from the MIO: The nearest station is 'Menga' on the MIO (line T1). From there, walk 10 minutes east along Calle 70. Ask for the big auto repair shop; that is the starting point.

Tip: don't come during rush hour (5-7 p.m.), because traffic on Avenida 3N is hellish. Better to arrive at 3 p.m., when the neighborhood is quiet.

Local Tips: How to Find the 'House of Sound'

The 'house of sound' is the holy grail of Menga. It is a house at Carrera 2 #70-25, where on Saturdays at 7 p.m. a group of neighbors gathers to listen to salsa on a homemade sound system. There is no sign, no advertising. Just the rumor that they still dance there like in the 70s. The house belongs to don Toño (yes, the same one from 'El Tablado'), who is now 85 and lives with his daughter. He plays his original vinyl records on a Technics turntable he bought in 1980. Admission is free, but you are expected to bring something to share: a soda, a pack of cookies, or a beer.

How to find it? There is no exact address on Google Maps. The house has a white facade with a brown wooden door. Next to it is a large mango tree. On Saturdays, if you approach at 6:30 p.m., you will hear the music from the street. Don Toño is not very fond of strangers, but if you arrive with respect and tell him you are there for the history of salsa, he will let you in. Don't take photos without permission; he is reserved.

Call to action: If you know where the 'house of sound' is or have more details about the route, send us a WhatsApp to the number on malokal.com. We'll buy you a beer for the info. We want to keep this story alive.

• Talk to the older neighbors. If you see someone sitting in a rocking chair on the sidewalk, greet them and ask about 'Salón Menga'. Most will tell you something that isn't in any book.
• Bring cash. In Menga, food stalls and shops don't accept cards. There is an ATM on Carrera 1 with Calle 70, but it sometimes doesn't work.
• Don't come in December. The neighborhood fills with street vendors and traffic collapses. Better between February and November.
• If you are a foreigner, don't say you are looking for 'tourist salsa'. Say you are interested in 'old guard salsa'. Locals appreciate that.

Frequently Asked Questions

Can You Still Dance Salsa in Menga Today?

Yes, but not in commercial bars. The only regular option is the 'house of sound' on Saturdays, if you manage to get don Toño to let you in. There are also sporadic events at the neighborhood's Casa de la Cultura (Calle 71 #1-40), but they don't have a fixed schedule. Ask at doña Leticia's store; she knows when something is happening.

Why Did All the Salsa Bars in Menga Close?

Several reasons: the economic crisis of the 90s, the rise of nightclubs on Avenida Sexta and Zona Rosa, and the generational change. The owners' children didn't want to continue the businesses. Additionally, the city government tightened noise regulations in the 2000s. Menga became a residential neighborhood and the bars simply disappeared.

How Safe is Menga for a Tourist?

It is safe during the day, especially between 8 a.m. and 6 p.m. The streets are quiet and the people are friendly. At night, avoid dark streets and don't carry valuables in sight. The area around Carrera 1 with Calle 70 is the busiest and safest. If you come in a group, there is no problem. As in any neighborhood in Cali, use common sense.