He's immortal.
Chronicled in all the major Mexico and U.S. newspapers, given life in toe-tapping cumbia and meringue tunes on both sides of the border, depicted in all his winged, fur-footed finery on T-shirts sold for 18 pesos on the streets of Ciudad Juárez, the chupacabra (or, goatsucker) has arrived. He even roosts on the Internet with, of all things, a Princeton University address.
It's safe to say, the chupacabra's a hot topic with everyone from sociologists to sidewalk T-shirt salesmen.
"It's because of all the recent things that have been going on,'' says Pete Skaggs, Operations Manager with El Paso radio station KBNA, which daily plays two versions of chupacabra tunes. All the recent things he mentions include dozens of reported attacks upon goats, sheep, and turkeys in Mexico, Florida, and Puerto Rico.
A typical chupacabra case is similar to one reported by a farmer in Sinaloa, México, who found 24 dead sheep on his land, all with puncture marks on the neck and sucked dry of their blood. According to Sinaloa police chief Desiderio Aguilar, the local populace reacted with fear, creating "a collective psychosis," that has left adults as well as children afraid to venture out after dark.
"In rural communities, where people develop close relationships with their animals through their dependence upon them, the chupacabra phenomenon could be seen as a metaphor for what the people themselves are experiencing,'' says Christine Eber, assistant professor of sociology and anthropology at New Mexico State University. "In the case of Mexico, the drought, combined with the economic crisis has left many Mexicans feeling as if their very life-blood is being drained out of them."
According to newspaper accounts and to information from the chupacabra Internet page, the creature first appeared in Puerto Rico about 18 months ago, where its prey included chickens and ducks. Attacks were reported next in Hispanic communities in Florida, then spread into Mexico, where everything from chickens to dogs to people have allegedly been attacked. Mexico's Ministry of Agriculture and other Mexican authorities have downplayed the attacks and called a news conference with forensic results that showed most alleged chupacabra attacks really were perpetrated by coyotes or dogs, not the feared goatsucker. Mexico television network Televisa reported several attacks, spreading chupa news across the entire country. Though the men attacked in northern Mexico incurred less cryptic results than does the average sheep or dog, the sightings have taken on almost mythological significance. A university in Mexico City even convened a chupacabra symposium, where intellectual Mexicans debated the evidence and spent hours discussing the creature.
Mexican author and newspaper columnist Guadalupe Loaeza considers the reaction typical of the Mexican character, which has "a great capacity for fantasy." Fellow journalist and author Carlos Monsiváis opines that the real identity of the chupacabra could be former president of Mexico Carlos Salinas, the PRI, or any number of other political figures. Some theories involve extra-terrestrial connections and chupacabras.
"I haven't seen one,'' jokes Daniel Villa, assistant professor of languages and linguistics at New Mexico State University. "Folk tales exist throughout the world, from vampires to perverse, unholy folk legends. Whether economic crises make these things crop up, it's difficult to say. In the Mexican society, things have always been hard." Villa sees the reports in a National Enquirer-esque vein, where supernatural events are viewed for their entertainment value.
Still, anthropologist Howard Campbell of the University of Texas El-Paso explains the chupacabra phenomenon as part of a folkloric explanation of nature, with a fantasy twist. This is especially true in outlying agricultural areas of the countryside, where economic stresses are extremely high, Campbell says. While the phenomenon is not uniquely Mexican (with its Puerto Rican roots), it seems to have taken off in this country.
"Drawing on their rich heritage of playing with the interface between `reality' and fantasy, Mexicans don't need to make a very big leap from the government and nature sucking them dry to a mythical creature sucking the blood of their animals,'' Eber says.
Sources: Los Angeles Times, New York Times, Dallas Morning News