4 Fascinating Creatures From Argentina’s Folklore
Argentina is a bizarre country. I know it because I’m from there.
The country’s curriculum includes the following:
- A traditional infused drink that makes you shit
- Having changed president five times in a week
- 20 pesos bills with guanacos on it
Damn, it has it all!
It has good folklore creatures too. While America has Bigfoot and Japan has Pikachu, Argentina has dinosaurs and dwarves who turn into plants and steal children!
Not weird enough? Just wait and see…
Yaguareté-Abá
Werewolves are cool. They are like normal wolves but full of steroids. However, here’s a not-that-much-of-a-cliché beast that would make a cooler Halloween custom: A Were-Jaguar.
No. This is neither furry material nor an Altered Beast character from the Sega Master System. Rather, it is an Indian folklore creature known by the name of Yaguareté-Abá.
This feline is the result of a black magic ritual where a shaman transforms into a half-man, half-jaguar and then runs naked through the jungles slaying kids and capybaras.
According to the legend, this is the way to stop the monster:
First, you need to get either bullets or a machete. Don’t forget to bless them, otherwise, they won’t work. After shooting or slaying the beast, you have to take its jaguar fur out, so the beast turns into a human once again. Finally, behead that bastard. If not, he will probably come back for revenge.
Yaguareté-Abá is quite a scary creature. That is until you compare it to the Cheetahmen from that horrible videogame on Action 52.
Now we have found something scarier!
El Pombero
Imagine not wanting to take a nap and being kidnapped by a midget because of it. You laughed, but this tale has habitants terrified. This is the story of Pombero, an elf from the north of the country who protects forests and wildlife.
Its skin is dark and hairy, and its body is robust. Sometimes he wears a straw hat. Sometimes he transforms into trees so he can guard birds. The latter is a common tradition here in Argentina.
Similar to ghosts, Pombero opens doors and windows and moves objects around farms and houses. That either frightens farmers or pisses them off. Sometimes both. Pombero is the ultimate troll.
However, having your windows opened is the least of the problems. Dare to speak badly of him and you’ll have your kids kidnapped and your wife pregnant. Damage nature and your crops are doomed for eternity. It seems there’s a thin line between being a troll and being a criminal.
On the other hand, there is a way to have Pombero on your side. While you might believe befriending a child abductor is absolutely WRONG, there are (strangely enough) positive consequences for this. If you offer him tobacco or honey for 30 days, he will reward you with his wisdom. For example, he will lead hunters to bigger prays, and stuff like that. Fail a single day (just like you failed No Nut November) and you’ll regret it.
You might think that this guy is a total asshole, and you are right, but that’s the way things are done in Argentina.
Luz Mala
I want you to close your eyes and picture a monster in your head. It can be anything. Did you finish? Great! Now tell me, what kind of monster did you think about? Living-deads? Vampires? Unspeakable cosmic creatures from the edge of the universe? Final exams?
I thought about light. Yes, a white light. Like the one that you see at the end of a tunnel just before passing away (or crashing against a train, which is the same as passing away though). The light I’m referring to is called Luz Mala, or “bad light”.
Luz Mala is, supposedly, the tortured soul of a dead man whose corpse has been buried in the wrong place. In other words, the ghost of someone who didn’t receive a proper, religious burial. What is more, some claim the light also announces the presence of a buried treasure. Although this pirate-like experience seems rewarding, it could lead to death. Real death, but we’ll come back to it later.
The worst day to stroll alone on Argentinian forests and mountains is August 24th. It is said that the light has more presence than ever during that date. It is believed to be a day where angelic guardians can’t protect villagers from Lucifer, thus allowing him to levitate free and naked all around the hills.
Yes, somehow they relate Satan with that light.
Maybe is a Devil’s fart? Who knows.
Now, here’s what’s interesting about the bad light: It does exist, and it is dangerous! Of course, it is not a Devil’s spawn or a spirit who wants a proper burial. Instead, it’s a natural event, as authentic as fire or rain. You probably already know it by the name of Will-o’-the-wisp. It’s an organic chemical generated by the decomposition of bones. This reaction exhales a deadly gas (SATAN’S FART, I KNEW IT!). It is quite obvious, then, why people consider the light to be such a danger.
Next time you see a ball of brightness floating through the woods, remember: it’s neither an alien nor Mr. Burns. It’s just mother nature gifting you with a mysterious, yet fascinating sight.
Nahuelito
Did you know Argentina has its version of The Monster of Loch Ness? Now you do! It’s called Nahuelito and lives in Nahuel Huapi lake, in the province of Río Negro. It is believed to be a huge dinosaur-like creature, most probably a grand-grand-grand-child of a plesiosaur. No one managed to prove the existence of either Nessie or Nahuelito, although some people tried.
Clemente Onelli was a scientist, zoologist, and director of Buenos Aires’ zoo. In the 1920s, he read the news of a local worker called George Garret, recalling a time in 1910 when he had seen a strange aquatic monster swimming in Nahuel Huapi lake. This was not the first time someone documented such an event. Natives had been spreading legends about Nahuelito way before the firsts European conquerors arrived in South America. What is more, Onelli received a letter from an American explorer called Martin Sheffield, who came to the south looking for gold. In that letter, Sheffield explained that he had found animal footprints of what seemed to be a colossal animal who lived near the Epuyén lake, in the province of Chubut. This seemed like a big deal. After all, it was a fact that in the past, Argentina used to be a gigantic Jurassic Park (we even have our own Argentinosaurus. Quite badass, isn’t it?).
Maybe some prehistoric species managed to survive and hide from scientists all these centuries. Maybe it was the time the world met a new animal. Maybe, just maybe, this could become the greatest discovery of the 20th Century. The hype was too good to ignore. Clemente Onelli immediately organized an expedition to seek and hunt for the monster.
It didn’t take much time for the news to spread, and for humans to be humans. Authorities attempted to stop the pursuit and killing of a yet non-existent dinosaur. Businessmen sold one-in-a-lifetime ‘plesiosaur’ pens and cigarettes. The animal even got its tango! Eventually, the news reached an international audience. The magazine Scientific American published an article about the creature, and even President Roosevelt claimed he wanted a piece of the monster for himself! I would have loved to see that thought on a Tweet.
Sadly, as I mentioned before, no monster was found. Nahuelito is still just an Argentinian legend. While they may not have found a dinosaur, they managed, however, to fossilize an anecdote into history.
Hello, piece of beauty ;)
If you’re eager for more Argentinian history read this article I wrote a time ago. You’ll love it!