La Llorona

In honor of Dia de Los Muertos, I'd like to resurrect this blog from the grave of abandonment. I had every intention of making this a weekly blog, and, well, life happened. But dont fret, I am back and ready to pass on all my stories and deep, darkest secrets.

The minute I heard about 'Thee Boogie Man', I laughed. Not the kind of uncomfortable, awkward laugh that comes from being confronted with a scary situation. More like that, you've got to be kidding, your creepy Boogie Man ain't got nothin' on La Llorona, kind of laugh. I was six when I first heard of The Boogie Man, and I still stand by that. 

My friend sat in front of me with fear in her tired eyes. She had not slept very well thanks to her older brother. Being the sweetheart that brothers are,  he told her the Boogie Man was coming to get her. Now I did not laugh at my friend's expense. What did it for me was when I asked her what this Boogie Man looked like. According to my friend, the Boogie Man was this harry creature with a paper bag over his head. The expression on my face must've shown her I wasn't buying it, because she immediately began explaining that the paper bag was only over it's head because apparently, the creature only revealed its face right before it would strike. 

And then the laughter began.

She became so upset with me, she refused to play with me at recess. 

The next day, we were friends again. I sat her down and, looking at her straight in the face, I said,

"Do you want to know about  La Llorona? She's WAAAY scarier than the Boogie Man!" I remember her eyes getting so big! She ran away, holding her hands over her ears, screaming "la, la, la, la...". I never got to tell her about La Llorona.

Since then, I have discovered that the Boogie Man does not have a true identity. It varies depending on the person. La Llorona's background story varies, but the gist is the same. She is the ghost of an unstable mother who drowned her kids in the river and now haunts it at night looking for them. In order to make sure my siblings and I were home before dark, my mother would tell us that La Llorona might take us for one of her kids and snatch us. 

I tell this to my non-Latin@ friends and I always get the same response.

"Why would she do that?" followed by, "That's so mean!" 

Well folks, I can only tell you one thing: It works, that's why! 

Let me give you a little background story. I was born in Mexico and did not take up permanent residence in the good ol' USofA until I was five. I heard of La Llorona in Mexico, where we lived really close to a river. Can you imagine being told you would be snatched by a bat-shit crazy ghost who drowned her kids? That would definitely get you home before dark. But here's the craziest part. I migrated over 1300 miles and my mother was still threatening us with La Llorona! I thought I was too cool for school once and told my mom La Llorona didn't know where we were. My mother looked at me dead in the eyes and told me she would personally call her over! WHAT?? 

Well played mom, well played.

So this one goes out to La Llorona for haunting my dreams and all the dark crevasses around me. You kept me in line (somewhat) and you kick the shit out of the Boogie Man any day!

Salud, Amor y Feliz Dia De Los Muertos!

-Wuadalu

P.S. For those of you interested in the legend of La Llorona, here's what wiki has to say 

Wiki_la_llorona

San Antonio y su Niño (St. Anthony and his child)

San Antonio de Padua (St. Anthony of Padua), has become the patron saint of all single women desperately looking for their life-long partner. For many years now, (predominantly Mexican) women have gone to San Antonio hoping he will listen to their prayers and find them a man!! (Although men have been known to do this as well.) Countless women have given their testimony on the miracles of San Antonio and will do so again, at any time. Many have even visited the city of San Antonio in Michoacán, Mexíco in hopes that developing a closer connection to this love saint may result in a quicker answer to their prayers.

How do you get in on this you say?? Well today, you're in luck! After years of extensive research, my team and I have deciphered the perfect combination to get that miracle you so anticipate and now we will reveal this long kept cultural secret, all for the price of $FREE-99!! (:

Before you begin, please compile the following items:
San Antonio's novena
A figurine of San Antonio, but make sure Baby Jesus is removable
Veladora (Candle. You know candles are always involved in these things)
Thin rope or twine
13 coins of the same denomination.
and a whole lot of will power!!

Step one:
Wherever you have set your San Antonio figurine, take your 13 coins and place them in front of him as an offering.

Step two:
Pray the following


San Antonio Bendito que al monte fuiste, el rosario y el silabario perdiste, te encontraste con Jesús, quien te consoló y tres virtudes te dio:

- Que lo olvidado se recordará,
- Que lo perdido se encontrará y
- Que lo alejado se acercará…”


Translation: Blessed St. Anthony who went to the Mount and lost the rosary and the syllabary, you met with Jesus, who consoled you and gave you three virtues:


-That the forgotten will be remembered
-That the lost will be found and
-That the distant will return


Step three: 
Light the candle


Step four:
Remove Baby Jesus...take him away! And do it like you mean it! Yes, I know this sounds evil, inhumane and borderline sacrilegious. However, if you want St. Antonio to act quickly, you have to take that child!
Note: Where you put him is entirely up to you. Some simply put Baby Jesus next to San Antonio, where he can see him, but not hold him. A friend, who will remain nameless, once told me she placed San Antonio on one side of her room and took Baby Jesus to the other end of her room and hid him in one of her drawers where he couldn't be seen. She defended herself stating, "desperate means calls for desperate measures." Indeed. 


Step five: 
Begin the first day of the Novena for San Antonio. 


If by the end of the ninth day of the novena you've had no luck, this is when things really get desperate. Pay close attention...


Sixth and final step:
Take your San Antonio figurine and turn him on his head. Yes, you've heard right, turn that righteous man upside down. (At this point you can use your twine or thin rope to hang 'em upside down so you don't knock him over.)
No one, not even San Antonio wants to be upside down. Do this and I guarantee you he will answer your prayers!!


There you go! All the tools and knowledge you need to get your prince (or princess) charming. 
Go get 'em Tiger!! Rarrr! 

I defied the odds...

Perhaps not as humorous as getting poop smeared on your head, but this one is another one I am on the verge of proving a lie.
In the time when homework was the biggest stressor and the skies were predominantly rose-colored, being the good little Mexican girl that I was (do you believe it?), I would help my mother clean our house.
One day, as I was washing the dishes and my mom was sweeping, she accidentally "swept my feet" or brushed the broom bristles against my feet. She turns to me immediately and says, "Sorry I guess you won't get married now."
I turned to her and asked what she was talking about and she said, "I swept your feet, that's bad luck."
Darkness fell immediately.
Was this true?
No, it couldn't be. Surely there were many girls who got there feet swept but managed to get married. I mean, what about getting "swept off your feet"? That's not too far from literally getting your feet swept, right?
(Please note that the idea of "dating" didn't exist in my growing up. As far as I was concerned, you only went out with boys you wanted to marry.)
I think my mom saw the fear in my eyes because she continued to "accidentally" sweep my feet, despite my efforts to get out of her way. (Side note: In my household, you show weakness, we exploit it! But in a good way, I swear!)
As the days progressed, I convinced myself to tuck away the thought of me old, withered and single, remaining in my parents' house FOREVER.
Apparently, I did a great job of tucking this thought because I did not think about it and now I am getting married. HA!! (I guess I shouldn't say that until the wedding actually happens.)
In closing, for those of you not married and waiting, I have a gut feeling that it wasn't because you got your feet swept as a kid and for those who don't care much for marriage, then who cares!!!

It's okay to laugh at my expense...

The following comes as promised at the end of "Lies! And how they make for a good story". To my readers, I reward you with a great and truthful story that has remained in the darkness of my memories. Thank God I can't remember the following story actually happening. I can only recount it as it was told to me. And although I cannot remember it, which means I took no part in the decision making, it's still pretty embarrassing. Therefore, like I mentioned in my previous posting, I will try and keep my dignity by calling myself "Pupita" (it'll all make sense, I promise!)

In a remote town in the high hills of Jalisco, a little girl's hair refused to grow. Pupita was about 2 or 3 years of age, or somewhere in between,  but still had the same baby hair she came out of the womb with. Pupita was the youngest of four siblings, all born one year apart.
A lady named Rosa took a liking to Pupita and since the house was always wild, Pupita's mother would let Rosa take Pupita home with her for a few hours.
One day, Rosa tells Pupita's mother of a remedy that would make Pupita's hair grow. Pupita's mother wanted no part of it. Not because she didn't believe in home remedies, but because this one was a stretch. A few weeks later, Rosa asks Pupita's mother if she could take Pupita for a few hours and she agreed. When she returned, Pupita was completely bald and smelled of fresh turned soil and "fertilizer". Pupita's mother immediately knew what had been done to her daughter.

According to this "home remedy", if you shaved a child's head and smeared fresh cow poop, their hair would grow. I'm not sure if they thought hair grew like crops and that you could treat them the same, BUT IT DOESN'T!!! For a LONG time, I, I mean Pupita, had to wear a beanie that had two fake braids sewn onto it!

Another lie, but yes, it does make for a good story.

There. It's out.

This one's for young parents

Babies, what a joy! They eat, sleep and poop. In between their busy schedule, they might give you a coo here, a smile there, and unfortunately, an occasional case of the hiccups (which often times leads to a baby puke stain on your shirt).
"How can I help my little spit angel?" you may wonder. That my dearest, is a simple task. When your little one gets a nasty case of the hiccups, just follow these simple instructions and problem solved!

1) Locate a piece of RED string. (If ever in question, match the color of the string to the color of the word and you're good)
2) Put said string in your mouth making sure you get it nice and wet.
3) Remove string from your mouth and stick it to your little one's forehead.

Voilà! No more annoying hiccups preventing you from enjoying your munchkin.

** Note:
Don't be alarmed if your child suddenly looks cross-eyed. You're baby is just trying to make sense of what their crazy mother/father just did to them!

Lies! And how they make for a good story!

After an extensive research of my memories, I realized I have encountered a few instances where I've been misguided, or lied to, by some extravagant myth I took as fact...but they make for a good story!

Who ever decided radishes are Tacos' best sidekick is a genius! Especially if you sprinkle your radish slices with salt and drench'em in lime juice. Little did many know (or so I was told) if you ate enough radishes before Ms. Puberty came around they would help your boobs grow. As soon as I heard that, I ate those suckers like nobody's business! Let's just say, when I went out for tacos they would give an extra plate, baggie or foil sheet just for my radishes.
But then a black cloud of reality came over me when Ms. Puberty came to do her thang to me, like those child-bearing hips and, well...you know, stuff happens. The radishes though, they lied. They watched Ms. Puberty visit me, change me and leave me, but they never interfered. Damn them! My boobs show no sign of a radish obsession!!
(Dear Boobies,
I love you just the way you are. I'm just venting. You know, feel a little lied to, and well, just needed it to be out there. That being said, why didn't you get the radish memo???) Oh well!

The next story is currently under debate. It must be further investigated before I actualize it. Well, it's really much more embarrassing. So for the sake of the story, (and my dignity) I shall call myself Pupita.
Be back soon....

3 second rule vs. The Devil

Everyone knows, whether you believe it, that the Devil lives "downstairs". In the event of your death, you will find yourself in this place if you were bad while you lived on earth. Therefore, your goal is to stay clear of the line between good and bad...well, occasionally dance on it a little, but that's it!
But I bet you didn't know he also licks your food when it falls to the ground. He does not honor the three second rule! Oh no, this dude immediately rubs a big and slimy tongue all over your goodies. Being the Devil he is, who knew he has a sense of humor?! Que Cabron! That sucker hopes you pick it up and eat it so he can get a good laugh! I always wondered when he had the time to lick my paleta when he was so busy collecting souls, but my Mom swore the Devil licked anything you dropped! He must have workers or something.
I think this story is told so kids don't eat the food that has hit the ground. However, let's consider the following comic, yet insightful literature of the Adventures of Pepito:

Pepito and his grandmother are walking home from church, Pepito enjoying his paleta (Popsicle) he had so anticipated for during the looooong mass. On his way home, he accidentally drops it. As he was on his way down to pick it up, his grandmother stopped him and says
     "No Pepito, the Devil has licked it."
Pepito, though clearly very distraught, obeyed and left his longed for paleta on the ground.

The following Sunday, Pepito accompanied his grandmother to church yet again, and once again on their way home an unfortunate event happens. Pepito's grandmother tripped and fell.
She calls for Pepito, "Help me, pick me up!!"
Pepito, astute from his previous experience, responds "nope, the Devil has licked you!"

And he runs off!