Chucky Is No Match for El Chupacabras

When Calendar asked me to write an article about my memories of Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead), I was hesitant at first. Like many Latinos who have been in this country for generations, my family celebrated holidays like Halloween and the Fourth of July, as opposed to Dia de los Muertos and Cinco de Mayo. Then I started thinking back to the fact that I was born in the Sangre de Cristo (Blood of Christ) housing projects in Pueblo, Colo., which overlooked a cemetery, and I realized maybe I do have the background to write about the macabre.

One of my biggest fears during this time of the year is not from ghosts and goblins, but from the fear that commercialism will take over Dia de los Muertos the same way it has Cinco de Mayo, which was originally the celebration of the Mexican victory over the French in the battle of Puebla. Thanks to revisionist history, it is now the battle of major beer companies over market share.

People don’t realize that Latinos have the most famous family of ghouls in America: The Addams Family. They were definitely Latino. The head of the house was named Gomez! If that isn’t proof enough, they always had relatives living under their roof. Case in point! Latinos are the kings of extended families. Latinos are also huge fans of Elvira, mistress of thedark. I’m not sure if it’s because of her association with the nether world, or her makeup reminds us of a chola who we once knew.

For those totally unfamiliar with Dia de los Muertos, it’s a celebration that happens in many Latin American countries on Nov. 2. There are several ways to celebrate it. Some people will write a “calavera” (literally a skeleton, but, in this case, a kind of limerick) to their boss and publish it in the newspaper. I always wondered if there is a spike in unemployment claims at this time of year.

Another element of Dia de los Muertos is the building of an altar to a deceased friend or family member. If the altar is built inside the house, it’s usually an indication that the deceased is welcome to enter and partake in the variety of offerings that are laid out. Kind of like a Motel 6 commercial (“We’ll leave the light on for you”). Oftentimes, these goodies are comprised of food and booze. (The key elements to any good Catholic/pagan celebration.) If the altar is built outside, it usually indicates you would like the spirit of the deceased to return . . . but don’t plan on unpacking.

I remember one year we built an altar to my Tio Ruben. It was an outdoor altar. A beautiful sight, rich in texture and color, and of course stocked with my uncle’s favorite treats--Old Milwaukee, chicharrones and churros. (This dietary plan is the equivalent to sticking cork in your left aorta.)

The next day, as the sunrise cast an eerie orange hue over the altar, you could see chicharron remnants and empty beer cans everywhere. Es un milagro! It’s a miracle! My parents were convinced my Uncle Ruben’s spirit had returned--and the consumed items were a sign. Close! It was actually my Uncle Lorenzo from down the block, who came like Santa in the twilight hours and enjoyed the offering. I didn’t have the heart to tell my parents. The reason I knew it was Tio Lorenzo was because I caught him! The whoosh of the pop top woke me from my slumber, which worked out great as Tio Ruben then had to buy my silence. Hey, a kid’s gotta survive.

When you think abut it, Latino bogeymen and -women are like the Dream Team of the underworld: El Chupacabras (the Bloodsucker); El Cucuy (the bogeyman, also known as Ralph Reed); and, of course, the ever classic La Llorona (the Crying Lady). After dinner in many Latino households, it becomes a contest of scary stories. Most of them start out in similar venues, “One night your aunt and I had just left El Patio Bar . . .”--nothing like a little mystical helper in the form of a frosty mug.

My favorite scary story is one that my Uncle Alfonso swears by. He claims he was at a bar and a very handsome man was dancing with all the women. As the night went on, my uncle noticed the floor getting more and more scratches. Right before closing, he looked under the table where the man was seated and noticed the handsome Don Juan had “cloven hooves.” “I’m thinking, ‘Scary, yes, but imagine all the money he saved on cowboy boots.’ ”

I have to admit there was one scary story in our house that did get to me. When I was 8, my brother would tell me, “You better behave or the pito monster is going to get you”--this translates as the penis monster. That’ll help an 8-year-old sleep better. Little did my brother realize that this spiritual fiend would take on human form years later in the body of a Latina named Bobbitt.

So, as you enjoy a frighteningly pleasant holiday, I offer a final thought and message to Hollywood: Why don’t you make a few movies about our bogeymen? They’re twice as scary as yours, if just for the fact that they’re bilingual. Besides, it’ll cut down on all those tired sequels. So bring on your Freddy Kruegers, Chuckys and Jasons--our Chupacabras, Cucuy and Llorona can whip your ghouls any day of the week.