El Duende: The Dweller of the Rafters and Corners

The Noise Within the Walls

In the old adobe and tile houses of Hispanic America, where the wood creaks from the changing temperature and shadows lengthen in the courtyard corridors, dwells El Duende. He is not a direct import from European courts, but a mestizo creature, born from the fusion between the *trasgos* of the Iberian Peninsula and the small guardians of the earth of the indigenous peoples. He is a purely domestic and telluric being, a presence that does not need vast forests or sacred springs to exist; the dark space under the stairs, the dusty attic, or the gap between the roof tiles is enough for him.

El Duende is small, barely the height of a three-year-old child, but his hands are large, rough, and end in nails of earth. He almost always wears a tunic of coarse gray or brown wool and covers his head with an enormous straw hat, with a brim so wide that it completely hides his features, revealing only a thin beard that reaches his chest and eyes that glow in the dark like dying embers. He often walks with little hops or drags his feet, producing a characteristic sound that the house's inhabitants mistake for the footsteps of a large rodent or the dripping of an old pipe.

The Courtship and the Whistle in the Ravine

El Duende's activity fluctuates between harmless mischief and dangerous obsession. When he is in a good mood, he limits himself to moving things around: he hides keys, spills salt, knots horses' manes into braids so tight that it is impossible to undo them without cutting the hair, or throws small stones onto zinc roofs to disturb the family's sleep. However, his character turns dark when he fixes his attention on a young woman of the house. El Duende is a jealous and constant suitor; he whistles sad melodies from dark corners, braids the girl's hair while she sleeps, and fills her sheets with wildflowers or sugar cubes.

This courtship is a curse for the chosen one. El Duende does not allow any mortal man to approach his favorite. If the young woman has a suitor, El Duende will throw clods of dirt at him when he walks at night, scare away his livestock, or loosen the cinches of his saddle to cause him to fall. The courted girl begins to lose her appetite, becomes pale and melancholy, and spends hours staring into space, listening to the subtle whistling that only she can perceive amidst the whispering of the wind.

The Pact of the Broom and the Move

Getting rid of a Duende requires patience and cunning, as physical strength is useless against someone who can turn invisible at will. One of the most effective tactics consists of taking advantage of his obsessive nature and his inability to leave a task half-done. An unassembled twig broom or a plate full of mustard seeds mixed with sand is left on the courtyard floor. El Duende, unable to resist the temptation of order, will spend the entire night trying to count the seeds or assemble the broom; upon realizing that the sun is about to rise and he has not finished, he will flee in shame toward the wilderness and will not return for a long time.

Other families, driven to despair by the constant mischief, opt for the extreme solution of abandoning the house. However, this move usually brings a bitter surprise. As the homeowners load the last cart with their belongings and head down the road, it is common to hear a squeaky voice coming from between the mattresses or from the bottom of an old pot: "How wonderful, we are all going on a trip!" El Duende does not belong to the place, but to the family, and once he has grounded himself in their lives, he walks with them under the shadow of his great straw hat.