Enchanted place

“Strange stories” in South America a rod on you with all the cracks and so organically fit into everyday life that they no longer seem to be something out of the row. Magical realism knew where to settle

“There is also Pishtaki! They suck fat from people! " - I warned me either, or my mother threw me a life hack. “There people disappear in packs, not funny,” the sister, a graduate specialist in drug trafficking and crime of Latin America, added gloomily. It was so escorted to me to the continent of my dreams. A year later, I was pretty lost, by the way. If Pishtaki worked on me, then they did it quietly and not in return. Nevertheless, a friend and my friend and I drank a good South American devilry: there was a chill on the back and hair on end.

Dream Theater

My favorite hassle is a dimension game when they fool you and lead you by the nose, and you feel like that Gogol’s grandfather who “ran back to the throat again - the dovecote disappeared, to the dovecot - threshed.” The first clash with a distorted South American space was the search for the Graz Theater in Bogota.

Once, a tempting announcement appeared on the door of our home: “Representation at the Graz Theater, the entrance is free, beginning at 19:00”.

From the announcement, something is right like a carnival from “Running along the waves” or a magic theater from the “Steppe Wolf”

There was very little left until seven in the evening, we dragged the address to the map and rushed along the crooked streets of the Old City. Along the way, they noticed graffiti: "The Graz Theater is there." We moved in the indicated direction, but rested at the construction site. They returned, checked the map, circled on the neighboring streets, found nothing. Passers -by behaved suspiciously. Some said that the Graz Theater was over that angle, others assured that there was no mention of any theater and corner. A group of giggling tourists looked at us with pink eyes: “We also want to go to the Graz Theater!” The local lady volunteered to take us home, in which the theater owners allegedly lived. Needless to say, we did not find anyone there, and the house itself looked long abandoned. “I managed the performance,” we thought.

Samaipat, a quiet town in Bolivia, teased us from the heart. One night, we came across a nice house with a bent roof and crooked stoves. On the house there was a sign "Hostel" Nagwal "." Nagwal, Karl! By this complicated aspect of the Latin American reality, someone decided to name a hostel in the village. In short and in Castaneda, the nagal cannot be described, it does not fit into the framework of the human perception of the world, but without this component the world is impossible. Outside the roof of the hostel, the “nagdal” extended the Black Soimaipat sky with large stars, there was a late hour, not a soul on the street. We sat for a long time under the sign, and the next night we came again to draw a hostel and the sky above it. They came and froze: before us there was just a house, without any hint that it was a hostel. The same bent roof and strange stoves, but there was no “Hostel“ Nagwal ”” sign.

Full moon in Salento

In South America, you, impressive, surround the legends everywhere, and some places are so overpopulated by spirits that there is nowhere to sit down. In the vicinity of the Colombian Salento, you can arrange congresses of paranormal lovers. This town-toy town with multi-colored houses looks more than harmless. Around the mountain, green valleys and rivers. If we assume that the evil spirits are also a paddock for everything, then it is clear why it crawled into these cozy places.

Possessions of La Patasol photo: from personal archive

Once, in the full moon, we made a sortie to the forest river to look at Svetlyachkov. A couple of local guys went with us. We walked without lanterns along a soft country road and listened to the river muttering. “Great night for one -legged,” the guy threw in between. “Oh, don’t start,” his girlfriend cringed. "Come on, come on!" - we interceded and heard the legend of La Patasol, the Colombian monster.
La Patasola, that is, one -legged, lives in the jungle and is travelers at night in the image of a fatal beauty (and how else?). He lures into the forest, back and forth, and there it turns out to be a disgusting creature, similar to a woman with one foot. Concertly eyes, open mouth, tangled hair and hoof on the only leg go like a bonus. No one is returning from the jungle after that. The motives of La Patasols are certainly unknown, but there is an opinion that this is how it protects its territory. "And we are just stomping on its site!" - The guy pointed to the plate by the bridge: "La Patasola."

It turned out that Salento borders on a large reserve of this insurance person

Road dust swirled in the moonlight, a dog bark was heard in the distance. “Oh, here the poster pulled up. Good night for her, ”the girl grumbled. La Lorona (or Charnish) also lived in those parts. The ghost of a woman who drowned her children, and now repents, can be found on a moonlit night near the water. La Laorona is dressed in white, howls and searches for his children in the river. You will not confuse with anyone. To run into her or at least hear - not good, of course. Determining the location of the ghost helps the dogs of dogs. If the dog barks nearby, then the ghost is still far away and there is a chance to run away. If the barking of dogs is heard from afar, then La Laoron is already here. ““ Oh my children! ” - That's how she moans,” the girl showed and herself added a step.

“Do not rush, now El Moan will appear in your soul,” the guy wrapped it up. It turned out that it was a suitable night for the spirit, which looked either to the Neanderthal, or the tree. El Moan smokes tobacco and steals girls. A simple guy. “And Chupacabra? There is just full goat - everything is as she loves! ” - the girl was joking nervously, but we already approached our hostel and fell asleep, leaving a crowd of ghosts outside the door.

Wild, but pretty

On an ordinary city tour, the guide girl advised interesting tracks. Turning her finger on the map, she suddenly dropped: “Just do not go to that village. A very heavy track along the grief. And there, the miners sacrifice tourists. ” Everyone decided that it was a joke, but the girl looked at us strictly: “You couldn’t go there. People still disappear. " We also heard about the moved shamans who chop the heads of travelers for the sake of the spirit of Ayauansky. This is a separate layer of tourist fears for which there are grounds, but we did everything with the shamans. You will not always guess where the universal evil is looming, and where is harmless obsession.

El Kaleud photo was held here : from the personal archive

In the south of Chile, a ghost ship was chasing us. Funny? Pretty, given that we scared from him along the shore under the song “Despacito” (Despacito from the Spanish-slowly, quietly). On the beach of the fishing village, we arranged a picnic with local residents. It was not far from the islands of the Chiloe archipelago. Suddenly, a wall of thick fog went from the ocean from the ocean. A minute later, the beach was already overlapping with cotton wool, and the beachs were silently retreated. “Here you are the devil! El Kaleud! " - our Chilean friend shouted and hastily began to load his family into the car. "El what?" - We did not understand, but obediently jumped into the pickup. While Christian randomly steamed in a milk veil away from the beach, we got details from him.

El Kaleudch is the Chilean “Flying Dutchman”, which drifts in the straits between the islands of Chiso and occasionally moans to the shores. The messenger of the approach of the ship is a sudden ocean fog. Dead guys dance on a ship, play flute and generally rest normally, but this spectacle is usually not a joy. Ghosts can show the chosen ghosts hidden underwater treasures, while the rest are overhanding life.

We listened to the story of the ship, and the fog continued to crawl off the water and flooded everything around

“I don’t understand along the coast or something,” Christian muttered and turned on the reggeton for vigor. To escape on the edge of the earth in a thick fog from the ghost is happiness, especially if you do it in the company of people who seriously believe in this.

Was there a boy

Every time the topics for conversation ended on the road, I took out my question-lifesaver: "Well, have you seen ghosts on the highway?" Truckers grunted and shared their experience. One in the evening drove past the boy in a red cap, who walked along the road alone. The driver slowed down, leaned out the window, looked into the mirrors, asked, but there was no one behind the truck. But near the side of the road, three crosses stuck out, and a battered cap of red color hung on one of them.

Another trucker, to whom we told this story, grinned: “This is all nonsense, every second one will feed you. Say that there was a cap on the ghost! " We were embarrassed. “There are no ghosts,” the driver snapped. “But something happened to my friend here.”

Waiting for a truck photo: from a personal archive

Imagine: night, truckers pull up from the highway to the parking lot (it is dangerous to spend the night one). Finally, the last truck appears, which at high speed enters the parking lot and crashes into a pillar, continuously alarm. The guys run to the cab, and there their friend beats in hysteria and yells: “Pull me out! Take it off !!! " The cabs of the cab was jammed, the guy did not immediately get the guy from the truck. He shook for a long time and shouted into the darkness, and then somehow said that shortly before the turn he overtook a strange woman. She did not look very much, as if she had escaped from a madhouse. One walked along the road, I saw a truck and began to vote, but the driver did not dare to stop and drove past. And then he discovered this terrible lady in his cockpit. She sat and stared at him, her eyes in half a face. The man wanted to jump out, but the door did not open. So he rode with her, screaming and signaling, until the guys saved. Then he refused to sleep in his truck. “This is probably from his overstrain,” the driver finished his story.

The third trucker in a weekly tone said that he knows how to read thoughts of Chilean horses and that two duodes live in his house (like brownies).

South America turned out to be just the way, that is, "another." It has a lot of stilettos-light, and even if nothing special happens, you still boil in some kind of light delirium. The myth and reality are intertwined in a funny or in the most ominous way. With your favorite pysts, for example, not everything is so clear. The ancient legend of evil spirits, first sprinkling you with magic powder, and then pumping out all your fat, is adjacent to Peru with a real story about the Pistacon gang, which let people on fat, which was then sold in Lima.

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