of the Supernatural
by Nasario Garcia, SFAOL Contributor and author of
Brujas, Bultos, y Brasas: Tales of
the Supernatural in the Pecos Valley
NOTE: Nasario Garcia, Ph. D., who teaches at New Mexico
Highlands University in Las Vegas, NM, is a native of New Mexico's
Rio Puerco Valley and is well-known for his bilingual books on
the folklore of the state. Over the past decade he has conducted
dozens of interviews with elderly Hispanic residents of the Pecos
Valley, gathering their tales of witchcraft and the supernatural.
As a special feature, Santa Fe Always Online (SFAOL.com)
is pleased to present a selection of these stories, taken from
his book Brujas, Bultos, y Brasas (Witches, Ghosts,
and Red-Hot Coals).
THE INTRODUCTION TO BRUJAS, BULTOS, Y BRASAS:
would venture to say that there is no Hispano, including this
author, who grew up in rural New Mexico within the last 40 or
50 years who is not capable of recounting an eerie story or two
related to witchcraft and its supernatural trappings, thanks to
the prominent role of la aguelita (the grandmother).
as grandchildren at the ranch looked up to my paternal grandmother
as the principal storyteller responsible for entertaining (or
frightening) us at bedtime. Given her versatility as a raconteur,
her narratives ranged from pleasant fairy-tale-type stories to
those that scared the dickens out of us, such as la cosa mala
(an evil spirit) or el coco (the bogeyman).
a small boy I heard scores of stories of the supernatural that
are recounted in one form or another up and down El Valle,
the Rio Pecos valley. Recollections of brujas (witches),
el diablo (the devil), bultos (ghosts), el mal
ojo (the evil eye), una persona enyerbada (a bewitched
person), and many other superstitions are but a few examples.
We siblings invariably were even beneficiaries (or victims!) of
a trick or two coming from our own parents playing the role of
animals that purportedly possessed supernatural powers were el
burrito (the donkey), snakes, the coyote, and el tecolote
(the owl). Other superstitious beliefs prevalent in my household
dealt with sorcery-like powers. For example, if my brother or
I went to milk a cow in the morning and found that it had no milk,
it was believed that a mamona (milk snake) had sucked the
milk from the cow's udder, which now was dry because of the evil
no single type of story fascinated me more than those of the supernatural.
Whether related to balls of fire, polvitos (witch powders),
sparks emitting from a chimney in an old abandoned adobe home,
a farol (lantern) burning brightly at night in my grandfather's
empty house while he was away, chains rattling at night, or finding
shiny apples on our doorstep, all contained magical power or an
evil element (la cosa mala) that intrigued me.
of past generations have been fascinated by stories related to
the supernatural. As the eminent historian Marc Simmons reminds
us in his excellent work Witchcraft in the Southwest: "Practically
every adobe hamlet and town on the Rio Grande once possessed
its own stories and traditions of witches, were-animals and supernatural
the late 1980s, I have made countless trips to El Valle to interview
and photograph dozens of residents on a variety of subjects related
to their lives in their villages. On each occasion, whether I
was meeting someone for the first time or renewing old acquaintances,
I was greeted with open arms. In every instance I was enriched
by their reminiscences and words of wisdom.
the time of the interviews (1989-1996) the 26 men and women featured
in Brujas, Bultos, y Brasas were in their 60s, 70s, 80s
and 90s. One of the most endearing qualities about the people
from El Valle is their positive outlook on life. As they reflect
on their lives, they do so with a great sense of contentment.
Now in their golden years, they are very much at peace with themselves,
for they sense in their hearts that their mission as parents,
grandparents and community people, through good and bad times,
has been fulfilled and hence brought them a special happiness.
storytellers in this corpus of oral literature, each with a distinct
personality, are proud and humble people who expressed a special
enthusiasm as they related the stories on witchcraft in their
own manner and style.
order Brujas, Bultos, y Brasas or other books by Nasario
Was the End of the Wailing Woman
told by Valerio Garcia, Ribera, NM
used to say that almost everyone around here had heard the Wailing
Woman. I never did, but one time I went and read a book about
the Wailing Woman, just so I could find out for myself what she
was all about, where she came from, and all that.
book it says that in the 13th century they used to
kill persons who were supposedly witches. And this one particular
woman, they tied her to a post so as to burn her alive, because
people claimed she was a witch. All of this came from Spain. When
they tied her to the post to burn her, as I understand it, they
burned an innocent person who was not a witch. And when an innocent
person was burned, those who burned her, as well as their descendants,
were going to hear her cries for centuries to come. On the day
that they burned her, some of her relatives 20 miles away heard
that time onward, until right this very moment, they've heard
her wail-so say the people-throughout all parts of the world that
the Spaniards conquered. So there's people scattered all over
the globe who are descendants of those persons who burned this
woman, who up until today can hear her wail. I don't believe it,
so I guess I'm not one of those descendants.
was a time, when I was young, when I did believe the people around
here who said there was a Wailing Woman, all dressed in white,
up by San Jose. People would see her every evening. So I asked
my dad for permission to go kill the Wailing Woman with a rifle.
My dad said that I was crazy, that there was no such thing. He
didn't believe in wailing women either, nor in ghosts, nor in
anything like that. My dad used to say that everything you saw
during the day you'd see at night, except that at night you couldn't
see it very well.
true. That's the way things are. Because you can see that once
a person dies it doesn't get up, even if people try to scare you
with it. A live person, yes. But if it's dead, it can't get up-least
of all if it's buried.
they used to say that there was a Wailing Woman, a witch, around
here. I was young, about 16 years old, something like that. I
asked my dad for permission to go looking for her with the rifle,
and he said: "What rifle?"
have one, but a relative of ours had a 30-30, and I went and asked
him for it. He said: "Well, maybe. What are you going to do?"
to go see if I can find the Wailing Woman."
was like that of my father. "There's no such thing," he said,
"but I'll lend it to you. But I don't have any shells. And who
knows who's got any? Perhaps my neighbor Pablo has some. He's
got a 30-30."
So I went
to Don Pablo's house to ask if he could give me some shells. He
said to me: "Does your father know about this?"
"My father has given me permission because he doesn't believe
the Wailing Woman exists."
do I," Don Pablo said. "There is no such thing. But let's go see
and said to my father: "Is it true that you gave him permission
said my dad. "Let him go. He's not going to find anything anyway,
because there is no such thing."
So I had
permission. I went and got the rifle, and Don Pablo grabbed a
few bullets and took off with me. What a nice state of affairs!
Well, we came to one of those orchards. It was in the month of
August, with lots of trees and vegetables and everything. We sat
down underneath a tree and then he gave me a bullet and I loaded
it, waiting for that Wailing Woman to come out.
one came for a long time. Then a poor woman comes out, dressed
in white. I raised the rifle to shoot her down. But then Don Pablo
grabbed the rifle and raised it upwards, and the bullet took off
into the sky. "Are you crazy?" he said.
it was a woman. Naturally I was going to shoot at her. It was
her own fault for being dressed in white-the way people said the
Wailing Woman dressed.
took the rifle from me and went to talk with her. On the way back
he kept scolding me and saying, "Man, you're crazy!" And it's
true: I was going to shoot her. I thought to myself that she was
the Wailing Woman. But she wasn't. Poor woman. Who knows who she
was? Don Pablo never told me. But for me, that was the end of
the Wailing Woman.
things that happen in this world, and that's it. I don't believe
there's any witches, or the devil, or anything like that. If the
devil exists, it exists just like God-where we can't see it. We
don't see God, but we know that He exists.That's the way the devil
is. But he's quite different from God.
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NEW "TALES OF THE SUPERNATURAL"