When you first step into “Capicua” at High Tide. You are not in LA. You are at La Curvita, the spot right before you get to Orchard Beach in the Bronx where the tamboreros are playing and the hot alcapurrias are wrapped in greasy napkins as some dope Hector Lavoe plays and dominos slap against a table, someone’s auntie Lola is dancing salsa with a Heineken in hand. You’re in your mom’s basement with your crush grinding to “down” by Rakim y Ken Y or Plan B. It’s 1996 and you’re on your Motorola pink Razr at your abuelas house in Santo Domingo, posted on a plastic chair eating a mango while Raulin Rodriguez bumps off an old Honda accord.

This is where Capicua takes you.

You’re in the essence of las Palmas y el Caribe. You’re in el Malecón, watching motoristas near the ocean. Except, you’re right here in LA, with your newest friends.

At Capicua, they actually dance. No one is posted on the wall.

Bodies collide and sway.

Sweat gleams off the brows of beautiful brown bodies. An array of colors and faces smile back at you inviting you to el

Perreo. Here, our accents are a luxury. We never code switch. Somos gente de barrio, openly. Everyone is asking what part of the east coast everyone is from and why they are so happy they just found one another here. Lovers meet. Or rekindle.

Familiars and regulars exchange hugs and pounds.

“What’s good!”

What was a stranger last month, is now a new homie.

Dominican & Puerto Rican Flags dance in the air

It’s a parade. Of joy and beauty and cultura.

Like Studio 54, but With Sazon,batería y reggaeton.

Capicua, is not an event. It’s an experience. It’s a nostalgic romance. It’s where every Caribbean transplant from the East coast comes to find a sliver of home in this Los Angeles landscape.

2,700 miles from NYC, you can be transported to what you once thought you lost when you took off from

JFK.

It’s where creator,Chef Vic Ramos, will serve you the warmest plate of Sancocho so your girlfriend can enjoy it as you drive on the long drive back home on the 110. Happy cause the Yuca sticks on your spoon just right.

It’s where the warm beef pastelitos fill your soul but don’t break your pockets.

It’s where family is created and community is given.

It’s where you remember to call your Abuela and tell her you just had the best arroz con habichuelas that made you miss her.

It’s where you remember why you moved to LA.

To fill the gaps and make your presence as a caribeño known.

It’s where you build legacy and find it.

It’s where you discover new art at the community corner and Massiel, the mother of the tribe, greets you with the warmest smile and always has a dominican flag in hand to wave high up for when the bass drops.

It’s where the DJ booth is the hottest VIP section.

It’s where resident DJ Giselle Peppers starts off her set with traditional dominican spiritual palo music to get the spirits up. “Yo vengo de los Olivos, a darle la mano a el enfermo.”

It’s ceremony. Medicine. Chicken soup for the soul.

It’s where you take off your cool,

Or

Throw on your shades

And are safe

To be you.

De Calle, or professional.

Celebrity, or social worker.

There’s no caste system in the perreo.

Here, we are all equal.

Resident DJ’s Bryant, Argenis, Giselle Peppers & crew provide the soundtrack to our very vibrant night through the sounds of bachata, perico ripiao, merengue classics, salsa,reggaeton,dembow of today and yesteryear.

It’s where all the songs we thought we hated as kids become the ones we sing along to in unison

“Medicina de amor, quiero de ti”

as we text our ex after the second Hennessy.

Where you meet that friend that makes you stay in the present moment and dance the ailments away.

But this isn’t just, DJ’s playing music. The energy of every DJ on stage creates an elevated experience. They show up as if it’s the last party of the century. The best part, is If they see you enough, they shout out your name on the mic in gratitude in between Bad Bunny songs, just to let you know, they see you. We are all here together, under the Caribe sun.

Some come in their Air Force ones

Some come in their best

Hair pressed, fresh from the salon.

Come as you are.

Welcome home

To the sounds of the tambora y perreo.

Find them on their IG:

@capicua_la