So we are all familiar with the story of Hansel and Gretel and the witch who eats children in her oven as she attracts them with her candy house. Well, not all of us. Here, no one is familiar with this person-eating witch. Instead of a haunted witch who lives deep in the woods, here there are Chino Rojos, translated to Red Chinese (Communist or Sunburned?). The Chino Rojos live under the sea and eat Ngobe people, of all ages, no one is safe from the danger (can you imagine them under this caribbean ocean?). They like the flavor of Ngobes because they have strong blood since they eat mostly organic food from their farms and rarely eat greasy fried things. I have been told various stories, many told with real fear, in which these Chino Rojos live under the ocean in glass houses or wooden houses on stilts, or some in submarines. In one very detailed story I was recently told, there is a city the size of the regional capital Changuinola of Chino Rojos that live in the Chiriqui Grande Bay. They have figured out everything, from hooking up electricity to growing bananas under the water. The story goes that there was a Latino man who contracted Ngobes to cut and carry wood for him from their farms. The Latino had all the wood taken down to the water and loaded into a boat, but no one ever knew where the wood disappeared to. They would watch it go out into the bay and in a blink of an eye it would be gone. A few ngobes went missing, those who had been carrying wood for the Latino man. One very curious wood carrier cornered the Latino and asked him where he took all the wood. The man told him that if he could keep a secret, he could see.
Later that evening, the Ngobe hid himself in the boat and they left the dock. They went out into the bay and suddenly submerged under, and there before him lay a city full of lights. The Latino took the boatful of wood to the Chino Rojo who was the main house constructor of the city. As they were taking the wood out of the boat, the chino rojo caught site of the Ngobe hidden there and immediately demanded how much the Latino was charging because he was very hungry. Oh, I forgot to mention that the Chino Rojos are millionaires and buy ngobes to eat. The Latino told him that this ngobe was not for sale, but the Chino Rojo lunged with hunger to grab the ngobe. The ngobe took one of the boards and swung, wiping out the Chino Rojo and the Latino in one fell swoop. In that moment of distraction he escaped, swimming frantically home. The latino escaped too, and picked the ngobe up and took him back to shore on the boat, pleading with him never to say a word about what he saw. But when the Ngobe returned home, he reported the latino to the local authorities and the man was condemded to life in Prison on Coiba, an island off the Pacific shore that was used as a prison until a few years back.
It turns out that this story may have originated from a submarine spotting in the mouth of the Krikamola river in the 1940s. All cultures have stories, and all stories have origins.
So I asked if I eat the same things that the Ngobes eat, will the Chino Rojos eat me too? The answer is yes.
