I can't speak for Latin America as a whole, or even for all of El Salvador, but it's fair to say that a lot of the establishments I've visited here have a soft spot for schmaltzy 80s music. This pleases me because I, too, have a soft spot for schmaltzy 80s music. If you can label it "adult contemporary" and date it to 1981-1992, odds are I know all the words and could hum you the guitar/awful synthesizer solo (if I had an ear for pitch, which I do not. But I do have an ear for Q-Tips. I think they feel so fuzzy.)
We went to dinner at a place called "The Little Onion," and I was delighted that half of the televisions in the establishment were tuned to VH1, and that it was "classic music video night." I taught my kids all about Simply Red ("He's pretty ugly, right?" Savannah said), Men at Work ("What's a vegemite sandwich?" Halen wondered), and Belinda Carlisle ("She used to be in a band called the Go-Gos," I lectured. "That's a stupid band name," Halen said.) The only misfire came when "Like a Virgin" came on. The kids all obediently focused on their food for the duration of the song, except Violet, who I judged to be too young to be corrupted by Madonna's bridal outfit. I was wrong. "Oh!" Violet said, enraptured by the video. "She's a princess!" Well, no, not really.