The Real Stories Behind the Folktales — Cuentos de mi Padre

All folklores begin from somewhere. As the years turn into decades and the decades turn into centuries, details are forgotten. Voids in the story are replaced. Imagination is added. So what happens when one well-known folklore is re-written from a completely different perspective?

Shape-shifting into animals is a common theme in folktales.

A sample from my book, "Less Llorona, Mas Chingona— The Modern Girl's Guide to Becoming Your Own Damn Heroine", based on my experience in living as a child in the San Luis Valley.

Centuries ago, there was a magical patch of land that was cradled between northern New Mexico and southern Colorado. Resting on a volcanic rock ridge sat a valley that matched perfectly to a boundless blue sky. When the sun was at its highest level, the river sparkled against lush walls of green and created a glittering landscape that seemed to be not of this world. Time had tilled its lush soil to a point where it provided a perfect blend of minerals, moisture, and sun. This, in turn, resulted in a potent symphony of herbs that gifted many remedios for the people of El Valle. The level of nature’s opulence in this small valley was known by the villagers as “La Botica”.

Maria Romero, and a younger boy named Roberto, traveled for days to get to the location. As orphans, they were both taken in by the nuns, who insisted they go together on the trip. La Botica was an obsession for Maria— she had a special talent for crafting hierbas and creating effective remedios for people of El Valle. Back at the village, she spent days crushing, drying, and straining the mixtures so they could be delivered to Lupita Sanchez.

Whispers about Lupita quietly flowed through the villages, like the smoke from a forgotten stick of smoldering Palo santo. Creating a mysterious aura of gossip, her supernatural powers sometimes served as entertainment for restless tongues over kitchen tables and campfires. Maria felt fortunate to be able to easily cure most of the local maladies, but she knew Lupita’s spiritual work was on a whole other realm. She was content to let Lupita fight against mal puestos and had no interest other than supplying her remedios from La Botica.

“El bendición” had been completed at el diá de Santa Ana over a month ago, and Maria’s focus at that moment was her special mix of “yerba del chivatito”. Maria suspected its medicinal qualities were far superior than Osha. She was eager to work on a formula that would instantly cure the illness that the winter’s cold breath inevitably blew in.

Maria became distracted by the smell of paelo, a wild mint that was so strong, it could be tasted with all five senses. The fragrance watered her eyes and she gently put a small leaf on her tongue, which reminded her of the Padre’s communion. Maria was known in the village for her beauty and unusual features—blue eyes and blonde hair. “Güerra” they whispered as she walked down the plaza. Such features were rare in this area, but the people knew the Romero family linage reached back to northern Spain, where similar characteristics were common. She didn’t like the attraction her looks created, but here, in the private embrace of the hills, Maria’s blonde hair blew freely in the wind and her love of being out in nature made everything about her shine brighter.

Roberto’s hand tugged at Maria’s skirt, interrupting her thoughts as she turned around to see him smiling with his lips shut tight. Maria smiled back, somewhat confused. Roberto gave her a mischievous smile, this time showing his teeth which were all colored a very dark green. Playfully he had put a handful of alfalfa in his mouth, crushed it so it was coarse, which in turn created an eerie effect of black teeth. “¡Soy diablo!”, he proclaimed with his hands raised like claws. Maria laughed, and gamely ran away.

Suddenly they were jolted by the sounds of hooves running along the river. Their hearts raced at the thought of unfriendly Indians. Three men were headed toward them on horses, and Maria instinctively grabbed for the dagger nestled behind her waist.