The Haunted Apartment

On my last post I told you a story of an event that happened to my dad when he was a young man in Mexico. This time I will tell you of my experiences living in an apartment that I believe was haunted. This happened in San Antonio, Texas (which, by the way, is the greatest place to live bar none). My family and I lived in an apartment complex for years. I am going to withhold the name of the apartments, but those of you who know me personally will know exactly where it is. It is the events that occurred that fueled my interest in the paranormal.

Things started slow enough, and I have to say that nothing ever felt threatening. We would hear strange noises which we credited to old plumbing or the faulty AC system. Then we started noticing small items disappearing, like the salt shaker from the kitchen table. But when a salt shaker goes missing, you don’t blame a ghost. You simply assume that someone else picked it up and forget about it. Except that other things followed; they would disappear and then reappear in the exact spot where they were. Again, I know what you’re thinking: someone used it, then put it back where it belonged. It’s easy to put things like that behind you and go on with your daily lives. But other things soon followed that could not be easily explained away.

Now, growing up in a Mexican household, we constantly had relatives from Mexico come to visit and stay with us. Sometimes they stayed a week or two, other times a few months. I have an uncle named Jorge who would visit us frequently and stay a few days. When he would stay with us the couch was his bed and in the summer my brother and I would put blankets and pillows on the ground in the living room and have us a campout with my uncle. During the school year when everyone left for school and work my uncle would move to one of the beds and sleep a while longer. One day he told us that something very strange happened after everyone had left the house. He said that after he had fallen asleep in my parent’s bed, he began to feel as if someone was on top of him. He reported the feeling of someone rolling over him. By the time he let us know, it had happened more than once. He also told us that every now and then he could feel someone pulling the covers off him. At first none of us knew quite what to think of what my uncle Jorge was telling us. No one else had experienced any of this and we wondered if it was due to jetlag. Well, my questions were answered one night during one of our “campouts.” My mom was taking food to work the next morning and before going to bed said that she might be waking me to help her carry stuff out to the car. I agreed and we all went to bed. I was fast asleep when I was suddenly awoken by someone tapping my arm. I woke and pulled the covers off my head expecting the lights to be on and my mom standing there. Instead what I saw was darkness and all I could hear was my uncle and my brother snoring. No one was there. I covered up and went back to sleep.

Things got really interesting when the television in the living room began acting up. One morning my dad said that we needed to make sure we turned off the TV in the living room before going to bed. He said that one of us had left it on a couple of times. My brother and I were sure that we had never left it on so we just said, “OK” and thought that would be it. Then one night sometime after midnight we heard my dad storm out of the bedroom and began yelling that it was too late to be up watching TV. He stopped and quieted down after seeing my brother and me coming from our bedroom. He said that he had heard someone turn on the TV and had assumed that one of us had gotten up during the night. The TV then began acting up during the day. The channel would change on its own, or the set would turn off. One day I came home from school and my brother was already home. As I walked in the door the TV turned itself on. I asked him if he had the remote hidden behind his back, but he didn’t. I walked over, turned the TV off and turned around. As soon as I did, it turned itself on again. I flipped it back off, and it turned on yet again. After turning it off a third time, it turned on and immediately the channels began to flip. I reached behind it and unplugged it. Now, the skeptics might tell you that there must have been some electrical problem with the TV that could explain away what was happening. Fair enough, except that after we moved out, the TV never once did any of those things. (In fact, I still have that TV today.)

Now a TV with a mind of its own might be the thing that would normally stand out in a story like this, but not this time. There is one more incident that stands out for me. It happened on a Saturday morning. My mom had to work that day and it would just be the men of the house. I was the first to get up and I headed for the bathroom. As I stood there washing my hands I saw someone walk by the door and head to the kitchen. I didn’t turn to see who it was but assumed it was either my dad or my brother. I finished washing my hands and headed to the kitchen. No one was there. I looked in my parents’ bedroom and there was my dad, in bed, snoring. Back in our bedroom my brother was still fast asleep in his bed. Who did I see walk by? I don’t know, but SOMEONE walked by the door.

When I tell most people about the haunted apartment, they ask how we were able to live there that long. Like I said, none of it ever felt threatening. One more thing, my brother would constantly hear someone calling his name. The rest of us would be in the kitchen and he’d come running from the bedroom asking, “What? Did someone call me?” But none of us had called to him. This happened more than once and after a while it became something we dismissed. 

Brujas (Witches)

¡Cuidado con las brujas!

¡No te vaya a chupar la bruja!

Those are two warnings that you might hear in any small town in Mexico. Translated, they mean “Beware the witches!” and “Don’t let the witch suck on you!” (OK, I realize that last one might sound dirty. Get your mind out of the gutter, this is supposed to be a scary story!) Witches, or brujas, are a major part of Mexican beliefs. Women don’t leave the windows open in their children’s room for fear that they will be taken away. It is a common belief that leaving a pair of scissors in an “X” either under the crib or tied by the window will ward off the bruja. In markets you can buy amulets that will protect the wearer from the curses and spells that might be cast against them.

Tonight’s blog is about witches, but not like you know them. I’m not talking the classic pointy-haired, green-skinned cackling hag that we see all over the place this time of year. I’m also not talking about all the people that practice Wicca. The bruja is a lot more than that. Simply uttering the word can cause panic depending on what part of the country you’re in. Brujas are both feared and sought out, and people tell you that they are REAL. They will come in the night and suck the life out of your children, drive you mad and curse you. But the term can be used to describe a psychic, a healer, a conjurer who casts spells or just someone who has dreams about the future that just happen to come true. (I’m talking about yours truly, but that’s something we’ll leave for a different post.)

My dad told me a story about the time he and a group of friends went camping. They were teenagers and wanted to have a camp-out on their own, sort of a rite of passage for them to show they were turning into men. They decided to visit Puebla, a place with hills and mountains that provided just the rough terrain that a group of young men desired to prove themselves. They loaded up on supplies in one of the small villages and then headed for the mountains. After hiking for a while they found the perfect spot to set up their camp for the night. They set up their tent and built a fire. One of them proudly announced that he had gotten his hands on a bottle of liquor. That should have been the highlight of the evening, but strange things were afoot. As they looked across the valley towards another mountain, they noticed some strange lights making their way up and down the mountain. At first they dismissed the lights as headlights, but there were no roads that went straight up and down. The lights also appeared to be moving faster than any car they had ever seen. There was something about the lights that mesmerized the group, they couldn’t stop watching them. All of a sudden, darkness enveloped them all. This was not the normal darkness of the night. No, this was something else. It was darkness like none of them had ever known. My dad says that even with the camp fire, you could barely make out the person next to you. Then they were all overcome with fear, panic as if something was out to get them. They became frantic, not knowing what was going on or what to do. One of the guys grabbed a pair of sticks and made himself a makeshift crucifix. They all huddled around it by the fire, shivering with fear. They then took out the bottle of liquor and drank until they passed out.

The next morning the guys woke up and headed back down the mountain. They decided to stop at a small village for breakfast. They were still talking about the previous night’s events when some of the locals overheard their conversation. They proceeded to tell the boys that what they had witnessed were brujas. The locals said that brujas lived in those mountains and that they would search for unsuspecting hikers that they could kill, eat and use for their spells. They had caused the darkness and the feelings of panic and that the further away the lights appeared, the closer they were. They had been lucky to have come back alive according to the local townsfolk. My dad and his friends made their way home and never returned to that place. To this day, any strange light reminds my dad of that evening and he gets a glint of fear in his eyes. 

I will leave you with a video that has made the rounds on the internet. It has been featured on several Spanish news programs and attempts have been made to replicate it. The commentary is in Spanish, but you can see what the video appears to show: a flying humanoid shape that has been labeled a bruja by Mexican authorities. I'll let you watch and judge for yourself.

La Llorona (part II)

The tale of La Llorona is told and retold not just in Mexico, but also in parts of the USA where there is a large Hispanic population and even in parts of Latin America. In my last post I related to you the story of La Llorona as documented by the early residents of Mexico City. Her wailings terrified many a brave soul in those days. But the question that remains is who was she in life? There are several versions that attempt to explain this.

For our first tale we turn to my ancestors and original conquerors of central Mexico: The Mexica (aka The Aztecs). Within the Mexica mythology we find entities similar to La Llorona. One these is the goddess Cihuacoatl who was associated with childbirth and was said to haunt crossroads in order to steal children. It was said that she would appear as a woman dressed in palace robes, completely white, and wailing in the night air. In fact, it was said that shortly before the arrival of the Spanish, her wailings were seen as a premonition of the conquest that was to come. Cries of “¡Oh, hijos mios, que ya ha llegado vuestra destrucción!”  (Oh, my children, the time of your downfall has arrived!) were heard by the natives that witnessed her apparitions.

The second story is that La Llorona was the troubled spirit of La Malinche. She was a native woman from the Gulf Coast who was given as a slave to Hernan Cortes. She served as his guide, interpreter and even lover. (She gave birth to his first son, Martin.) She played a key role in helping the Spanish conquer the native peoples and as such has been labeled as the ultimate traitor, much like Benedict Arnold in the US. In fact, the term malinche means traitor. It is said that such was the regret she felt for betraying her fellow natives that her spirit never knew rest. It wandered the streets of the newly built Mexico City crying and wailing over the deaths of her fellow people.

The third, and perhaps most popular tale, is that of a scorned woman who throws her children into the river in the ultimate act of revenge. It is told that she was a native woman who fell in love with a prominent young Spaniard. They shared a secret love affair together, the whole time he promised that he would marry her one day. She bore him children and she was happy thinking he would be hers one day. But instead, he married another Spaniard that was of equal class. Upon hearing this she became enraged, and took her young children and threw them into the river to die. The next day she returned, feeling sorry for what she had done, and threw herself in to drown. Her spirit now roams the rivers and streams in constant search for her children.

In one variation of this story, she is a widow who was left to raise her children alone until she finds another man to love. However, he refuses to marry her because he cannot raise the children of another man. She throws the children in the river in order to free herself of them and marry her new love. She realizes too late what she has done and decides to join them.

So there you have it, the tale of La Llorona. Whether or not any of these tales is true, no one knows for sure. What is true is that to this day children are told to stay away from water at night and are scared into behaving by threats that she will come at night to take them away. It is a tale that is as much as part of Mexican culture as anything else.

La Llorona (part I)

OK, it is now October. This is quite possibly my favorite time of year. Why, you ask? Because Halloween is just around the corner and there are ghost shows and scary movies on TV. Growing up Mexican, I heard my share of ghost stories. Mexico is a place where the people are very religious, but also very superstitious. Everyone has heard a story about their grandma's or aunt's house being haunted. I also heard a lot of them growing up in San Antonio, which is one of the most haunted cities in the country. So this month I will dedicate to bringing you some of the ghost stories that I grew up hearing.

Mexico's history is rich with culture, but also with violence. Many battles of conquest, independence and rebellion took place on its lands. Throw in the pre-Columbian cultures with their own beliefs and you end up with a lot of scary stories. Perhaps the most famous, the one that almost every Mexican child has heard at one point, is that of La Llorona (The Wailing Woman). There are many different versions of the story, but all have a few elements in common. Children are warned not to play around rivers and lakes at night or La Llorona will appear and drag them to a watery grave. She is almost always described as the specter of a woman completely white who wanders along the banks crying out for her children. She is condemned to haunt the rivers and streams in an eternal search for her children. Any child she finds, she claims and drags them into the water. Now perhaps this was meant as a way to scare kids away from dangerous waterways at night...or was it?

For the first part of this story I will present to you some of the phenomena documented by the early citizens of Mexico City, which was built over the ruins of the Aztec capital Tenochtitlan. These events were witnessed in the middle of the 16th century following the conquest of Mexico by the Spanish. On nights when there was plenty of moonlight, the people of the city were awakened in the middle of the night by the wailing of a woman. These cries were filled with pain and sorrow, cries of a woman who was suffering either deep emotional distress or some kind of terrible physical ailment.

The first few nights that people heard these cries, they would make the sign of the cross and pray. Word spread that such cries must be from some creature that originated from the spirit world. But the occurrences became so common, that many became curious and ventured out to see with their own eyes who or what could be causing such commotion. By the light of the moon they could see a woman, dressed in white from head to toe and with a white veil covering her face. She seemed to glide along the streets of the city, almost as if she was floating instead of walking. But none were brave enough to get so close as to confirm this. Her cries were almost always the same; "Ay, mis hijos! Ay, mis hijooos!!" (Oh, my children!) She would appear in a different part of the city each night, but each night made her way to the central plaza of the city. She would then stop, face the West, fall to her knees and let out one last blood-curling cry before vanishing. No one knew who she had been in life, and so she simply became known as La Llorona. Nights in the city became a time when no one, not even the bravest, dared to venture out for fear of seeing La Llorona.

La Llorona made her presence known in Mexico City in this manner for many years, before fading away. To this day people still see her from time to time all over the country. They say that encountering her is a terrifying experience. There are many stories that tell who she really is, but I will save those for my next post.

"Regular" tacos and tinga de pollo

Earlier this week one of my friends at work celebrated her birthday. Because of the current state of the economy, thank you very much politicians, I couldn't really afford to buy her a gift. But if there is one thing I can do is cook, and I'm a pretty damn good cook thank you. So I asked her what she wanted me to make her for her birthday lunch and her choice was tinga de pollo. (Actually, since she doesn't speak Spanish, she asked for "that spicy chicken" that I make.) Before I continue, allow me to explain what tinga is for the benefit of those that haven't tried it. Basically it's a dish that consists of shreded chicken, sauteed sliced onions, diced tomato, spices and chipotle peppers. It's simmered and then it's eaten on crispy tostadas that have been smeared with sour cream and then it's all topped with shredded lettuce. (Hungry yet?) So needless to say, we had a good lunch.
Now, if you've never heard of tinga, I'm not surprised. Most Americans' exposure to Mexican cuisine begins at Taco Bell and doesn't venture too far from that fare. Just to make it clear, crispy tacos were invented by Taco Bell and are NOT part of authentic Mexican cooking. Now, I plan to revisit the topic of faux-Mexican food on this blog again so I won't go on my rant about the lack of authentic Mexican food. But it does remind me of a story that happened back in my college days when I worked in a research lab.
OK, let me set up the scenario. I worked in a research lab with several regular employees and some students from the medical and dental schools that were there during the summer. Most of us in the lab were from San Antonio, but we had people from other parts of the country and from other parts of the world. One of our favorite things to do was order breakfast tacos. Now I have found that there are people, especially here in Appalachia, that cringe and look at me funny when they hear the term "breakfast taco." But in Texas they are more of a staple in the mornings than biscuits and muffins. (Also, Mexicans can eat tacos at any part of the day.) So this one summer day we all arrived at the lab hungry and someone decided to take up an order for breakfast tacos and call it in to a nearby restaurant. We went around the lab asking everyone if they wanted anything. One student, who will rename anonymous, obviously was not familiar with the breakfast taco. He inquired about the menu and when we told him all the different choices he had for taco fillers he had a perplexed look. He then looked at us and said, "Do they have any regular tacos?" Upon hearing this we all looked at each other in question since we all wondered what he meant. I proceeded to tell him that those were regular tacos. His reply? "No, I mean with the crunchy shell and the ground meat and cheese and lettuce."
It was all I could do not to laugh at him right then and there. It hadn't occurred to me that he had no idea what a breakfast taco was. I think he felt bad that day, but I think by the end of the summer he had a better grasp of what Mexican food was.
One more thing, and this is for all you gringos, please learn to say tortilla. They are not "soft shells," they have a name. It really bugs me when people call them "shells." I'll even help you learn how to pronounce tortilla. OK, here you go:
   
        tortilla - tore-tee-yah


There, now you can call it by its real name. Wear it out at your local Mexican restaurant.

Bicks, Esprite y Yerbabuena (Vick's, Sprite and Mint)

OK, so it's been a few days since my last post. I've been battling a cold. Now that I'm recovered I can blog again. Did I go to the doctor? Of course not! Mexicans don't go to the doctor until we've tried every home remedy our moms and abuelitas used when we were kids.
Now, what was the first thing your parents used to tell you when you told them you weren't feeling well? "Tomate un Esprite." (Drink a Sprite.)
Ah yes, Sprite, the magic elixir that some even think can cure cancer and AIDS. Or, if you were lucky and were able to find it, you drank Sidral (apple-flavored soda). So you drink your carbonated beverage and you still feel under the weather. What now you ask? Well then they rubbed your chest with bicks (Vick's vaporub). Ah yes, nothing cures diseases like the smell of menthol. OK, so now you've had a refreshing beverage and you've been rubbed with menthol-scented petroleum gel. Still feeling sick? Well, it's time to bring out the big guns! No, not the medical-school trained professional we call the doctor. I'm talking about the yerbabuena! (That's mint, to you gringos.) That's right, just brew up a batch of tea made from these magical mint leaves and there's no way those germs will still be acting up inside that body of yours.

So let's say the Big Three didn't work. Do your parents break down and take you to the doctor? Perish the thought! It's time to go to the flea market and track down that old lady who sells antibiotics from Mexico and herbal supplements. (Also, if you're bad enough, she'll rub an egg all over you!) So you go home with a bag full of penicillin, herbs and  something that smells like toluene and Chanel #5 mixed together and looks like it could blow up half a city block.

So why are Mexicans so reluctant to see the doctor? Well other than the fact that they're going to CHARGE you (eek!) the real reason is that if you go to the doctor, he's going to find something. That's right, you don't get diabetes until you see the doctor. You're 300 pounds and sit around all day, but you're healthy until that doctor gets a hold of you!

Back to my battle with the cold. I already told you that I didn't go see the doctor. So what did I do? Well, we had plenty of Sprite on hand but unfortunately I could not locate the Vick's. (Don't tell my mom!) I opted to forgo the yerbabuena but I did Nyquil the crap out of that cold! Now I'd like to hear what your home remedies include, my fellow Mexicans.

You know you're Mexican (part I)

Have you ever wondered if you're Mexican? Do you tan to a beautiful brown color but can't handle spicy foods? Well, you're in luck because here I have for you a list of things that might let you know if you're Mexican. OK let's cut the charade, this is a joke that's been on the internet for a while. But I have decided to add some items that weren't previously on there. A lot of them are from me, but a lot of them are also from the friends that I met on a Facebook page called "Bien Mexican." I'd like to give a shout-out to all my paisanos on there, hopefully they will be reading my blog and adding to this list. So, let's begin.

You know you're Mexican...

If you have ever been hit with a chancla (sandal or flip-flop) or wooden spoon.

If you can play any sport or run while wearing chanclas.

If as a child you were afraid of "el cucuy," "La Llorona," "El Muerto" or "La Mano Peluda."

If you have ever used your lips, eyes or chin to point something out.

If people can't tell whether you're laughing or crying.

If you refer to all Asian people as "chinos" no matter where they're from.

If you say "Pssst!" or "Cht! Cht!" to get people's attention.

If your parents ever used the sound of a belt snapping together to scare you.

If you have ever gone to a store and hidden things you couldn't afford so you could come buy them later when you have the money.

If you say "Uy!" when you try to scare someone instead of "Boo!"

If you call all cereals "con fleis."

If you can't imagine anyone NOT liking spicy food.

If you go to a kids' birthday party and there's more liquor and beer than punch and soda.

If there is at least one member of your family named "Maria," "Jose," "Juan," "Jesus" or "Guadalupe."

If you have a bottle of Tapatio or Cholula in your house right now.

If the guy on the Tapatio looks like your dad or uncle.

If the lady on the Cholula looks like your mom or aunt.

If you need to point out how much something you just bought cost.

If you go out with a black girl and you're darker than her.

If you know the next line to this song: "Ay! Ay! Ay! Ay! Canta y no llores!..."

If you have lived in the same house for 30 years and still pay rent.

If you light a candle on the night of the Lotto drawing.

If your parents have ever rubbed an egg over you to cure you.

If you greet people by tilting your head.

If you have to watch one novela every Monday through Friday and you don't even know why.

If you still have Christmas lights on your house and it's April.

If you have a tia or tio that's younger than you.

If you have ever had to explain to gringos what it is you're eating for lunch.

When a pay-per-view fight turns into a family reunion.

If you have at least one blanket with a picture of an animal on it.

When you can fit 10 people in your car...and you drive a compact!

When your mother yells at the top of her lungs to call you to dinner and you live in a one bedroom apartment.

When you can dance cumbia, salsa or ranchera even when there is no music playing.

If you've ever told someone to "bring me a plate" from a wedding, birthday party or quinceañera.

If you have aloe, cactus and some kind of fruit tree in your yard.

When you have at least one shirt with chorizo stains.

When you heat up your lunch in the break room and the smell clears everyone out.

If you have plastic covers on your furniture and plastic runners on the floor.

When you can eat tortillas with every meal.

When your biggest worry is whether or not you left the frijoles turned on.

If people keep trying to hire you to put down tile when you're trying to shop at Home Depot.

When you get sick and instead of going to the doctor you go to the pulga to buy penicillin and herbs from some lady.

If your kids try to order horchata at every restaurant, even if it's not Mexican food.

If you have a skinny cousin they call "la gorda" and a dark-skinned one they call "la guera."

When you store your pots and pans in the oven.

If you can buy roasted corn, raspados and tamales right outside your church.

When every calendar has a picture of an Aztec warrior and came from the panaderia.

When you dress up like Cantinflas, El Santo or El Chapulin Colorado for Halloween.

If you've ever been called in to have a serious conversation with your dad while he's on the toilet.

If your mom has to have Vicente Fernandez blaring on the radio while she cleans the house.

If you have at least 30 cousins.

Well, I think that's it for now. We will revisit this at least once more. I hope you laughed because many if not all apply to you. If you're a gringo and don't understand all of them, have one of your Mexican friends explain.