Soooo 2020 has been quite the year.
Instead of presenting a standard scare-the- bejeezus out of you monster, let’s give
our minds and our adrenaline a rest,
Because isn’t that what we all need right now?
If the demonic Nuckelavee is on the disgusting end of the monster spectrum, the Kasogonagá
sits on the adorable opposite end.
A sky deity from the mythology of the Toba peoples of South America, the Kasogonagá
appears as a small, hairy creature with short legs who fell out of the clouds and needs
a little human help to return to the sky.
It has the ability to bring rain, lightning, and thunder—and a history of helping the
indigenous people of South America.
I'm Dr. Emily Zarka and this is Monstrum
The Kasogonagá hails from the Gran Chaco region of South America, which includes modern-day
Argentina, Bolivia, and Paraguay.
Because it is spread across many cultures and regions, it goes by a few names.
This diminutive creature is genderless, and its physical appearance across stories varies
as widely as its name.
But its most common and defining characteristic is its ability to control storms.
The Kasogonagá resides in the clouds and can be called on by a shaman, or ‘pi-oxonaq’,
for assistance.
It can create thunder, control the rain, and command lightning at will.
Sometimes even emitting lightning from its mouth!”
This furry helper is described as having a small head and a body covered with long hair
like an anteater, with four tiny feet and a long snout, or occasionally as a small,
multicolored elephant.
Some modern depictions of the Kasogonagá add rainbow hair—which may just be a conflation
between it and another nonhuman being from Toba mythology—the Koomonaló described
as a “rainbow snake,” that also brings storms.
A rainbow haired anteater storm deity?
I love it.
As with many creatures whose origins are in oral traditions, Kasogonagá’s name, appearance,
and stories are influenced by the language, religion, and community of its various regions.
Toba spiritual practices integrate animism, a worldview that asserts that humans, non-human
animals, and nonliving entities all have spirits or sentience, and influence the lives of people.
Part of that belief is that most nonhuman entities are capable of changing into whatever
corporeal body they wish, as if changing clothes, meaning the altering physical depictions of
the Kasogonagá across cultures are not seen as unusual.
But most beliefs still center around the same general narrative: it’s a deity who fell
from the sky and needs human help to return.
The origin story goes—a man out hunting heard a voice in a clearing, and came upon
“Lightning.”
The creature spoke to the man, telling him it had fallen from the sky and could not return
to the clouds.
The being implored the man for help, asking him to build a large fire so it could use
the smoke to rise back up to the heavens.
The creature, too small to climb onto the fire itself, told the man to pick it up and
place it upon the fire, and after to run home immediately.
He follows these instructions and when Lightning reaches the sky a violent thunderstorm covers
the drought-stricken land with a heavy rain—a sign of the entity’s gratitude.
Kasogonagá was so thankful it continued to protect and watch over the man, communicating
with him through the air, and giving him the power to heal people.
The man became a shaman, and the grateful sky deity promised he could call upon it at
any time, and if anyone bothered him, the Kasogonagá would “strike” his enemy with
lightning and kill them.
So this idea that a human could interact with a nonhuman deity isn’t an odd concept for
the Toba people.
In Animism, nonhuman entities coexist with humans, and although not all people can see
or interact with them, their general existence is agreed upon.
The role of animism in everyday life of the Toba people is further demonstrated in their
retelling of historical events, which often involves human and nonhuman intervention.
The indigenous Toba people, also known as the Qom, found their land infiltrated by Jesuit
missionaries in the 17th-century, and eventually part of the Gran Chaco region was declared
national territory of Argentina in 1884.
That same year, a military campaign called the Conquest of the Chaco Desert led to violent
conflict with the Qom as the Argentine government built settlements for further conquest; their
pursuits were physical, spiritual, and cultural.
Many of the stories of this period of colonization include the indigenous people escaping or
even defeating the soldiers because of communication with entities.
One story tells of a Kasogonagá helping a group of Toba women captured by the Argentine
military during the campaign of occupation of indigenous communities.
Six women were collecting carob fruit when the military seized them, tied them up, and
forced them to walk towards a prison camp while the captors rode horses and donkeys.
The women were bound and held captive at the prison camp, and through communication with
Kasogonagá, who implored the women to escape that night if they had any hope of survival.
Which they did.
Because we know the story today.
For the Qom people, time is fluid, and history is not always recounted exactly chronologically
and older oral traditions merge with modern history.
In recent years, as the Qom continue their fight for rights to ancestral territory, non-human
figures, including the Kasogonagá, appear in the retelling of these modern histories.
According to one story, an electrical storm allowed the Qom people to set up roadblocks
to prevent 100 police officers from evicting a group of indigenous people from a local
school.
The Qom people say that the unrelenting rain, thunder, and lightning that afforded them
protection and camouflage was sent by Kasogonagá.
The storm reportedly ceased only when both roadblocks were complete.
As a creature who still has a supportive role to play in the lives of the Qom people today,
this “monster” is different from many of the other ones I’ve covered in a few
ways.
And since I frequently research monsters who are destructive, vindictive, and downright
evil, I find the helpful Kasogonagá to be a welcome relief, and a pleasant and important
reminder that even in 2020, not all monsters are bad.
I also would like to hug it. But I would definitely ask permission first.
If only there was a plush version of it...