Horror Story of an Old Woman

An old woman’s daughter became pregnant out of wedlock and when the child was born, the old woman dipped her daughter’s newborn into boiling water. Sometime later, the old woman became paralyzed and could only move her eyes. The day she died, it was foggy and dark and animals would bark and make noise. As the woman was about to die, the window opened and a chicken came in. She wanted it to go away and her son began to shoot at the chicken. As the shot hit the chicken, the woman died.

These kinds of gory stories about death were popular to tell according to my mom, especially since they involved some kind of karmic element and gruesome end to the villain of the story.

The story was a bit confusing to me and it sounds as if the old woman became the chicken itself but I’m confused as to why and what that had to do with the old woman killing her infant grandson. Definitely freaked me out a little.

Moral Lesson of a Stubborn Old Man

A rich man had many employees working for him at his ranch. One day, one of his cows died and the rich man asked his workers to remove its hide to make a leather coat. The workers refused saying that it was infected with disease and the workers feared contracting whatever killed the cow. The rich man decided to remove the hide on his own out of stubbornness.  He worked on removing the hide from night till dawn and by morning light, the man fell sick and died shortly thereafter. 

This story came from an uncle of my dad’s who told him this story in his youth. My dad’s uncle said it was a true story from a nearby rancher who did die in similar circumstances.

I guess this was a story to teach those who heard it not being so stubborn. I see this story in the same light as similar stories I’ve heard from my dad regarding people’s negative qualities leading them to their downfall.

Hauntings in a Hospital

My friend’s mom worked as an assistant nurse in the Hospice wing of a hospital. In that same floor of the hospital, there was a physical therapy room also near a crematorium. One day, a man walked past the physical therapy room and he claimed to have seen one of the exercise bikes moving by itself. He told my friend’s mom that strange things would happen in that room and things would feel off. This man was allegedly a medium and he would tell my friend’s mom of similar supernatural occurrences. The man went as far as to say the entire floor of the hospital was haunted. 

This was a story told to my friend by his mom and according to him, both he and his mom believe these ghost stories. When I asked why, my friend said it was especially the case something like this took place in a hospital because it was “so charged by death”.

I’ve heard so many ghost/haunting stories about supernatural activity at a hospital and like most ghost stories I am unsure of whether to believe them or not because the logic behind hauntings at hospitals does make sense, but then again, on what grounds?

Haunted Military Island

My friend, who is originally from Singapore, recalls them and their friends sharing stories about people who’d go off to Tekong Island, a training facility where those “shipped off” would receive military training, mostly mandatory. On this island, many have claimed to have heard strange noises deep within the jungle regions of the island and sightings of “shadowy” female figures. From within the facility, strange and random noises would appear during the night such as toilets flushing or the sound of moving objects. There have also been reports of people mysteriously disappearing while at the island or falling ill or dead without explanation during night marches. 

My friend has heard many stories like these from people in their school and amongst their peers, some of whom did end up going to serve on that island after high school.

I personally enjoy hearing about mysterious occurrences such as these ones. It seems like something I’d want to listen to a podcast about.

La Danza a la Santa Cruz

Every year, around late April or early May, my family both those in Mexico and the ones here in the U.S. host a dance celebration. It’s purpose it to commemorate the Holy Cross (as we are Catholic) and do so by dancing. Many members of my family dress up in red skirts and white shirts decorated with sequins and layers of thin, hollow wooden tubes to make sound as they dance. They also wear huaraches and hats adorned with ribbons and paper flowers. The ceremony begins during daytime mass in which dancers march into the church and then we hear mass. Later on we gather at a ranch nearby where the dancing continues, now with food all around and the place decorated with papel picado. The dance is led by the music of a single violin and the metal sonajas that follow the violin’s rhythm. the dancers are formed from tallest to shortest. The dancing lasts all evening until dawn with small breaks in between. During the breaks, “morenos” (people in costumes and masks who also dance) put on silly productions. Also during the breaks, other dances are put on until the main one resumes. Those who aren’t dancing typically sit around the dancers to talk and gossip, eat food, or simply observe the dancers. At the front of the dancing area, there is an make-shift alter. Here, candles are lit and images of saints and holy figures are on display along with the most important aspect: a human-sized cross decorated with flowers. People take turns holding up the cross all night.

This celebration has been a part of my family for over 120 years where it was originally held only in Mexico. Family here in the U.S. often make a visit to Mexico in order to celebrate over there. It’s roots are based in religious devotion and especially in Latin America, devotion is done in a variety of ways and often to different people/things. In this case, it’s the holy cross, a highly revered symbol in Christianity.

These celebrations are more personal to my family than they are a widespread national or even local thing like many other religious celebrations. I’ve only ever heard of another group of people doing something similar to this and they usual wear blue instead of red and come from another town in Mexico near where my family comes from. Having spent every year, especially my childhood years seeing this family tradition, I’ve felt so in touch with my Mexican roots as it means getting to be a part of something so unique and personal although I myself never got the hang of the dancing part. People like my dad and uncles show extreme pride and devotion towards this celebration as I’ve noticed that it not only signifies their pride within national or religious identity, but also within their family itself.