Menga: the marimba workshop that resonates between blocks

Menga: the marimba workshop that resonates between blocks

If you walk along Carrera 18A with Calle 5, in the Menga neighborhood of Cali, the first thing you hear is not the traffic of Avenida 3N. It's a dry, rhythmic thud that sneaks in between the noise of motorcycles and store speakers. That sound comes from a chonta marimba workshop operating in a gray-fronted house, with no sign or social media. There, Don Eulises, a 67-year-old marimba maker who learned the trade in Chocó, has spent over a decade transforming wood and rhythm into a refuge for experimental musicians, ethnomusicology students, and music lovers seeking something authentic, far from the city's tourist routes.

This article is for you, who wants to dive into the real sound of Cali. You won't find a restaurant guide or a list of nightclubs here. This is a map to get to Don Eulises' workshop, understand how a chonta marimba is made, and join the Thursday 'jam sessions'. All in Menga, the neighborhood where Pacific tradition meets the noise of a city that never stops.

Don Eulises: the marimba maker who doesn't use YouTube

Don Eulises Córdoba arrived in Cali from Bahía Solano in the 80s, with a marimba under his arm and the craft inherited from his grandfather. In Menga, a popular neighborhood in northern Cali, he set up his workshop in his home's backyard. There, among pieces of guadua, nylon strings, and carpentry tools, he builds chonta marimbas from scratch. He has no website and doesn't sell online. He only receives those who knock on his door, and that includes everyone from Universidad del Valle students to experimental jazz musicians who come to record in his space.

What makes Don Eulises special is not just his skill in carving the chontaduro —the hard wood of the chonta palm that gives the marimba its dry, bright sound— but his way of teaching. He doesn't use sheet music or Western music theory. He transmits the rhythmic patterns of the marimba as it was done in the Pacific: by singing, humming, and hitting the wood with his hands. "The rhythm isn't on paper, it's in the body," he says while adjusting a key with a handsaw.

If you arrive at the workshop on a Thursday at 5 p.m., you'll find him surrounded by drums, cununos, and guasás. It doesn't matter if you've never played an instrument: Don Eulises will give you a stick and have you follow the beat. The atmosphere is relaxed, without formalities. There's no stage or lights here. Just the sound of the marimba and the noise of the neighborhood in the background.

The sound of the marimba vs. the noise of local traffic

One of the first things that surprises you upon arriving at the workshop is how the marimba competes with the surroundings. Menga is not a quiet neighborhood. It's right next to Avenida 3N, one of the busiest roads in Cali, and the traffic of buses, motorcycles, and trucks is constant. But Don Eulises doesn't complain. "The noise of the city is part of the sound," he says. "The marimba doesn't shut up, it imposes itself."

The musicians who go to the workshop have learned to work with that. In the recordings they make there, you can hear the beep of a bus or a dog barking in the background. For them, that's not a flaw: it's a mark of authenticity. "If you want a soundproofed studio, you go to an expensive place in the south of the city. Here, the sound is real," Mateo, an ethnomusicology student recording his thesis at the workshop, told me.

The contrast between the marimba —an instrument that evokes the rivers and jungle of the Pacific— and the concrete of Menga is exactly what attracts experimental musicians. It's not an imitation of tradition; it's a reinterpretation in an urban context. Don Eulises knows this and encourages it. "The marimba isn't just for dancing currulao. It can also sound like rock, jazz, whatever," he says while adjusting an out-of-tune key.

How they get the wood: chontaduro and guadua in the neighborhood

Making a chonta marimba is not easy. The main wood, chontaduro, comes from the chonta palm, which grows in the Colombian Pacific jungle. Don Eulises gets it through a contact in Buenaventura who sends him pieces every three months. But it's not just the chonta: he also uses guadua for the frame, the structure that holds the keys. He gets the guadua from a construction materials depot right in Menga, two blocks from the workshop.

The process of building a marimba takes between two and three weeks. First, Don Eulises cuts the chonta into thin planks, about 30 centimeters long. Then, he tunes them with sandpaper and a knife, comparing the sound to a homemade tuning fork he made from a wire. Each key is adjusted until it sounds the right note. The guadua frame is assembled with nylon strings that tension the keys. The result is an instrument that sounds drier and more percussive than the metal marimbas used in classical music.

The curious thing is that Don Eulises doesn't sell marimbas. He only builds them for those who play them in his workshop. "If I sell you one, you take it away and don't come back. I prefer you play here, learn, share," he says. This has created a small but loyal community of musicians who go every week to rehearse and record.

Anecdote of the first street recording

In 2023, a group of musicians who frequented the workshop decided to record a live album right on the street, in front of the workshop. Don Eulises wasn't very convinced at first. "I thought people would complain about the noise," he recalls. But the opposite happened. Neighbors came out to listen, some started dancing, and even a man from the store next door lent an extension cord to plug in the microphones.

The recording lasted three hours. They played traditional currulaos, but also free improvisations where the marimba mixed with the sound of cars and street voices. In the end, Don Eulises sat down on a plastic chair and said, "We didn't record this in a fancy studio, but it sounds like the truth." That album, which hasn't been officially released yet, circulates on USB copies among the workshop attendees.

That experience changed the workshop's dynamic. Now, whenever there's a 'jam session' —as they call the Thursday sessions— they sometimes take the instruments out to the sidewalk. It's not a formal concert, but a spontaneous celebration. The neighbors are used to it now. Some even join in with their own percussion: a cardboard box, a glass bottle, whatever they have on hand.

What to do at Don Eulises' workshop

If you arrive at the workshop, don't expect a structured class or a guided tour. The dynamic here is simple: you arrive, say hello, and if there's a free instrument, you grab it. Don Eulises doesn't charge an entrance fee or require experience. He only asks for respect for the instruments and a willingness to share.

• Chonta marimba workshop: You learn to tune and play the keys. Don Eulises teaches you the basic patterns of currulao and juga.
• Free percussion: There are cununos, alegre drums, and guasás. You can improvise alone or with other musicians.
• Home recording: If you bring your recording equipment (a portable recorder or a cell phone), you can record the sessions. There's no studio, but the ambient sound is unique.
• Thursday jam session: The main event. It starts at 5 p.m. and can last as long as your body holds out. It's recommended to bring your own instrument if you have one, but you can also use the workshop's.

The workshop has no fixed hours outside of Thursdays. It's best to arrive early, during the week, and knock on the door. Don Eulises is almost always working on some marimba and receives visitors gladly.

Where to eat and drink near the workshop

Menga has simple and affordable options for eating before or after the jam session. Don't expect gourmet restaurants: here you eat neighborhood food, homemade and unpretentious.

• La Tienda de Doña Nelly: Half a block from the workshop, on Carrera 18A. It sells beef and chicken empanadas for $2,000 COP each, and natural lulo juice for $3,000 COP. Open Monday to Saturday, 8 a.m. to 8 p.m.
• Asadero El Chontaduro: On Calle 5 with Carrera 19. Specializes in grilled meat and chorizos. A bandeja paisa plate costs around $15,000 COP. Open Tuesday to Sunday, 11 a.m. to 10 p.m.
• Panadería Menga: On Avenida 3N with Calle 5. Sells pandebonos and buñuelos for $1,500 COP each. Good for a quick breakfast if you arrive early.

For drinks, the corner store sells Águila beer for $4,000 COP a bottle. There are no trendy bars or signature cocktails. Here you drink whatever is available, sitting on a plastic chair on the sidewalk.

How to get there and transportation to the workshop

Don Eulises' workshop is located on Carrera 18A with Calle 5, in the Menga neighborhood, north of Cali. The exact address has no number, but it's easy to find: it's the gray-fronted house with a marimba leaning against the door.

• By bus: Take any bus that goes along Avenida 3N with the sign "Menga" or "Terminal Menga". Get off at the Calle 5 stop. The fare is $2,500 COP.
• By taxi or Uber: Ask to be taken to "Carrera 18A con Calle 5, Menga". From downtown Cali, the trip costs between $12,000 and $18,000 COP, depending on traffic.
• By bicycle: There are bike lanes on Avenida 3N. From the south of the city, the ride is about 30 minutes. Bring a lock because there's no guarded parking.
• Walking: If you're in northern Cali (near the MIO Menga station), it's a 15-minute walk. Walk west on Calle 5 until you reach Carrera 18A.

The MIO has a station called "Menga" on Avenida 3N. From there, walk two blocks west on Calle 5. It's safe during the day, but at night it's better to arrive by taxi or Uber, especially if you're carrying instruments.

Local tips to make the most of the experience

These tips will help you not get lost and make the most of the workshop:

• Arrive before 5 p.m. on Thursdays: The jam sessions start on time. If you arrive late, you'll miss the initial part where Don Eulises explains the rhythms.
• Bring your own instrument: If you have a drum, a flute, or any percussion, bring it. The workshop's instruments are limited and are shared among attendees.
• Don't wear white shoes: The workshop floor is dirt and cement. You'll get dirty. Wear closed, comfortable shoes.
• Bring cash: There's no card machine or transfers. The stores and the workshop only accept cash. Withdraw money before you arrive.
• Record with permission: Don Eulises has no problem with you recording, but ask him first. Sometimes he asks that you don't share certain improvisations until he reviews them.
• Don't expect luxury: The workshop is a humble space. There's no public bathroom (only the house's, with permission) or comfortable chairs. Sit on the floor or on a wooden sack.
• Get to know the neighbors: Doña Nelly, from the store, knows everything about the neighborhood. If you have questions about Menga, she can tell you stories that aren't on the internet.

Frequently asked questions

Is it necessary to know how to play the marimba to go to the workshop?

Don Eulises welcomes people with no experience. He teaches from the basics: how to hold the mallets, how to strike the keys, and the simple rhythms of currulao. The important thing is to have the desire to learn and respect the space.

How much does it cost to attend the Thursday jam sessions?

There is no fixed cost. Don Eulises doesn't charge an entrance fee, but he accepts voluntary contributions. Some attendees leave between $5,000 and $10,000 COP to help with the purchase of strings and sandpaper. It's not mandatory, but it's a way to support the workshop.

Can you buy chonta marimbas at the workshop?

Don Eulises does not sell marimbas to people who do not attend the workshop regularly. His focus is community-based: he builds instruments to be played in the space, not for commercial sale. If you attend several times and show commitment, you can negotiate with him to build a custom marimba, but the price and timeline are agreed upon directly.

Is the workshop safe to go alone or at night?

Menga is a popular neighborhood in Cali, with safety dynamics typical of the city. During the day, it's calm and there's a lot of people around. At night, especially after 8 p.m., the streets empty out. It's recommended to arrive and leave by taxi or Uber if you're alone. The workshop itself is safe, but the surrounding area can feel lonely. Always let Don Eulises know if you plan to stay late.

Don Eulises' workshop in Menga is not a place for tourists looking for a pretty photo. It's a space for those who want to hear what tradition sounds like when it meets the noise of the city. Bring your drum, arrive early, and get ready to share an afternoon of marimba, sweat, and conversations you won't forget. The next jam session is this Thursday at 5 p.m. on Carrera 18A with Calle 5. There's no excuse to miss it.

Historical or contextual introduction

Menga, located on the western slope of Cali, has been a nerve center of Afro-Colombian culture. This neighborhood, forged through a mix of traditions and rhythms, is home to many families who have passed on their love for music, especially the marimba, from generation to generation. The influence of the Afro-descendant community in the city is reflected not only in music but also in the gastronomy, art, and festivities that bring life to the neighborhood.

The marimba, an instrument of great tradition in the Colombian Pacific region, symbolizes the cultural resistance and identity of its people. In Menga, the sound of the marimba resonates not only in workshops like Don Eulises', but also in the streets, where young people gather to learn and create music. This vibrant environment fosters a sense of community and belonging, where every note tells a story of struggle and celebration.

Visiting Menga is immersing yourself in a world where the history of Afro-Colombians intertwines with modernity. In addition to attending a marimba workshop, visitors can explore the rich local gastronomy and participate in cultural events that celebrate African heritage. Don't forget to ask locals about the legends and traditions that have made this neighborhood a unique place in Cali.