La Nigüenta
Why is a little girl playing with her toes regarded as a powerful talisman in some parts of Latin America?
La Nigüenta Statue, as typically found in Costa Rica
In 2022, a Costa Rican woman approached The House at The Morbid Anatomy Flea Market and introduced a talisman called La Nigüenta. She explained that, in her culture, a statue of a little girl with bows in her hair is believed to attract good fortune. This interaction piqued The House’s curiosity and two short years later, here we are…
La Nigüenta: A Costa Rican Beacon of Prosperity
In the verdant lands of Costa Rica, where the “pura vida” philosophy permeates every aspect of life, a unique cultural emblem has woven itself into the fabric of local folklore. This emblem is La Niña Nigüenta — more commonly referred to as La Nigüenta — an image that has become synonymous with good fortune and prosperity.
La Nigüenta, which translates loosely to “the little flea girl,” sits with one leg over her knee, meticulously picking at her feet. Or is she counting her toes? According to Costa Rican folklore, she is picking at parasites, known locally as ‘niguas’ (and in the United States as “chiggers”). Niguas, which cause an intense itching sensation by burrowing into the toes, were once a common affliction for many rural Costa Ricans who walked barefoot.
Cultural Significance & Association with Good Fortune
The association of La Nigüenta with good fortune is a testament to the human desire to influence luck. The statue has transcended its humble beginnings to become an all-purpose household agüizote or good luck charm, believed to attract good fortune, particularly in games of chance like the lottery. In Costa Rica, the statue is made of plaster and the base is often decorated with other “lucky” objects like a horseshoe or the number 13, along with colorful flowers that each carry a specific meaning. Offerings are traditionally left at her base to request favors, and it is said that tucking a few bills under her base can enhance her powers to attract wealth.
The way that La Nigüenta is venerated in Costa Rica is similar to interactions with folk saints such as Saint Expedite or Santa Muerte, and it’s not unusual to see La Niña displayed alongside religious icons. Beyond the seemingly unfortunate depiction of a child struggling with fleas, La Nigüenta has come to symbolize overcoming adversity, a reminder that even the smallest nuisances can be addressed with patience and care.
But in the Dominican Republic — her other primary pocket of popularity — she functions as a symbol of shared cultural identity rather than a talisman, and her primary form is a poster or print that hangs on the wall rather than statue. For Dominican families, her image is a powerful reminder of family bonds, resilience, and shared experiences.
The famous La Nigüenta poster, also known as La Niña de la Espina, as typically seen in the Dominican Republic
The Historical Roots of La Nigüenta
The history of La Nigüenta has many layers — some of which are conflicting — but we will do our best to bring the truth to light.
An exploration of La Nigüenta’s origins begins in ancient Rome with a renowned bronze sculpture that depicts a young boy extracting a thorn from his foot. The statue is referred to as “Boy with Thorn” in English; “El Niño de la Espina” or “El Espinario” in Spanish; and “Cavaspina” in Italian.
The sculpture tells the story of a Roman shepherd named Martius who was so dedicated to delivering a message to the Roman Senate that he stopped to remove a thorn from his foot only after completing his mission.
The original statue was donated to the city of Rome by Pope Sixtus IV in 1471 and is housed in the Museo Capitolini in Rome. Art historians view the statue as notable for the contrast between its archaic style head and the naturalism of the body.
The original statue “Boy with Thorn”, also known as Cavaspina, is housed in the Hall of the Triumphs at the Museo Capitolini in Rome, along with other precious antique bronzes.
How did the Boy with Thorn become the Girl with Fleas?
Something about this statue really captivated people, especially during the Renaissance, when it was one of the most admired and copied statues. Maybe it was the story of Martius’s selfless dedication that resonated with people and inspired their reverence? Or perhaps it was the broader concept of personal sacrifice in furtherance of a greater good? Some scholars have observed that the statue’s theme echoes the very human suffering of Jesus Christ, whose mortal body died by crucifixion while wearing a crown of thorns.
A later copy of Boy with Thorn from the Museo del Prado in Madrid, Spain…
El niño de la espina (El Espinario), Anonimo, c. 1652
Copyright de la imagen ©Museo Nacional del Prado
Regardless of the reason, this expression of a person removing a thorn from his foot proved irresistible and was adapted into other artistic expressions — most notably for our purposes an image of a chubby little girl with pigtails who came to be known as La Niña de la Espina and La Nigüenta.
Exactly how did this happen?
If this post were written one year ago, it probably would have examined in detail the theories put forth by art historians that Boy with Thorn continued to inspire artists for centuries and that a relatively straight path led from the bronze statue to painted works by other artists such as Raúl Anguiano and Frida Kahlo whose art incorporated the theme of thorns, and eventually culminated in the brightly colored image of the little girl in pigtails that is pure kitsch.
Presumably, it went something like this, “Oh look, an image of a little girl in a pose that is vaguely reminiscent of the famous ancient bronze Boy with Thorn. I bet the anonymous artist was (consciously or unconsciously) inspired by this famous work. Let’s put the piece in context along with others that were inspired by the statue because that’s how this works!”
A review of the record doesn’t reveal much about the identity of the artist or why/how La Nigüenta was embraced so fully in Latin America. The theories simply posit that La Nigüenta was imported from Europe, most likely from Germany, Switzerland or France, and slowly spread through Latin America. But as far as The House can tell, these theories simply state that this happened, bur don’t offer an explanation of how.
So we are not going to spend a lot of time examining these theories because IN MARCH 2024, information came to light that may have shed some light on the true origins of La Nigüenta!
Mrs. Carmen Saleta de Ricart, a woman of Dominican origin who resides in Miami, Florida, came forward to reveal the original image that inspired La Nigüenta. Carmen, who was 98 at the time, claimed to be the child who inspired the iconic image. Based on her age in 2024, she would have been born c. 1926.
Here is a photo of Carmen holding a purported photo of herself as a girl.
The existence of this photo could be a game changer in terms of understanding the origins of La Nigüenta because it calls into question the entire art historical record that had been developed around this piece.
Are we to believe that the little girl was explicitly imitating an ancient bronze statue? Or is her pose merely a coincidence, (mis)interpreted and put into a particular context by art historians who wanted to connect this image to the ancient bronze, Boy with Thorn?
Is this really just a sweet image of an innocent little girl playing with her toes and not a veiled commentary on Christ’s suffering?
What do you think, dear readers?
The old photograph she is holding seems pretty spot-on, no? The pose is identical. The only difference seems to be the color of the bows in her hair.
If Carmen was about two years old when the photo was taken, as she claims, that means the image would be from c.1928. That…seems in the ballpark, no?
But hold on. Some have pointed out that the image Carmen is holding is not, in fact, an original photograph (la fotografía original), but a lithograph. They further note that based on the style of the boot on the floor next to her, the image appears to be from the early 1900s — well before Carmen was born in the mid 1920s. And if you search for examples of this image online, they are generally identified as “Victorian” or “early 1900s”.
So what exactly is going on here?
At the very least, it seems clear that Carmen is not holding an original photograph.
Skeptics note that it’s entirely possible that Carmen was told that this image was of her as a toddler, but in fact it was another child from an earlier time. Maybe her parents didn’t have any photos to share, which would not have been unusual for many families in the 1920s, and made up a story that would satisfy her curiosity? Or maybe Carmen’s family remarked that Carmen looked just like this little girl and joked with her that she was the inspiration for the print that was hanging in everyone’s home?
Regardless of whether Carmen is the child in that image, it’s pretty clear that this lithograph was the source of inspiration for La Nigüenta (both the statue and the poster). Sure, it was given a more whimsical quality by colorizing it and adding a vivid background but the underlying image is the same.
So where does that leave us?
How did this image become La Nigüenta? And was it —independently?— the source of both the poster and the statue that became so popular in the Dominican Republic and Costa Rica, respectively? Was the image “from Europe”? Or was it transmitted to Europe only to return to Latin America with a new meaning?
Some have theorized that the lithograph was among a group of traditional images in circulation that served to inspire a wide variety of artists during the early part of the 20th century. Familiar paintings like The Last Supper or images with approachable or whimsical subject matter like Dogs Playing Poker, ballerinas, children, etc. were included in this group. Perhaps a sculptor in Costa Rica and a painter in the DR both saw the lithograph of this little girl counting her toes and were moved to imitate it?
But The House would like to propose another possible method of distribution — calendars.
In the mid-20th century, calendars were popular promotional items. Local gas stations, restaurants, dry cleaners and other vendors would distribute them to customers at the beginning of the year to remind patrons of their services each month. The calendars were compiled using a variety of illustrated and photographed stock images — landscapes, still lifes, patriotic scenes, glamorous women, cute little children, etc.
Below is such an image from Darvill’s Rare Prints, a merchant that deals in old-stock calendar images procured directly from the manufacturers. Does it look familiar?
It stands to reason that a printmaker who was looking to make some money might have colorized the lithograph to make it more marketable and sold it to a calendar distributor. Before you dismiss this theory out of hand, recall that Mami Wata’s origins were also linked to an image that was distributed through a calendar.
What if the original lithograph made its way to from Europe to Latin America via calendars?
Now we will cross over into the realm of pure speculation…
Imagine that you are a Costa Rican living in the middle part of the 20th century and a calendar with this image was hanging on your wall during a month when you received some sort of a financial windfall or other stroke of good luck. Perhaps you would consider the image as a good luck charm of sorts, and maybe you would save it and display it in the hope that it would continue to bring prosperity and good fortune your way? And maybe you worked in a studio that produced plaster statues and decided to make a three-dimensional version of this little girl because she’s cute and she brought you good luck and why not?
Little by little, it became known that the statues were lucky. And over time, as often happens, folklore developed a back-story about the little girl picking niguas from her feet, rather than, say, a thorn, because that was a local and relatable affliction. Eventually, she became a metaphor for overcoming adversity and an aguizote that could help bring good fortune to your life. Eventually, her influence grew and she became La Nigüenta.
***
But wait…how did the print become so popular in the DR?
It could have happened in a similar manner. Maybe Carmen’s relatives saw the colorized lithograph produced in a calendar and said, “Hey, that’s Carmencita!” because they thought it looked like her when she was a little girl. So they started collecting copies of the image to display in their homes and give to their friends. And when a family would migrate to the U.S., they would take the image with them. to remind them of home And little by little over time, she became not only a “good luck charm” but a bridge connecting the present to a past, where she was not just a statue, but a member of the family, watching over them with her silent promise of good luck.
Modern-Day Relevance
While the practice of owning and displaying La Nigüenta may be a dying tradition, she still evokes feelings of nostalgia and holds a revered space in the hearts of many Latin Americans. She also continues to inspire modern artists, who riff on the theme.
A contemporary sculptor’s take on La Niguenta…
Niguenta, 2023; print/acrylic on ceramic tiles by Danny Peguero
Instagram: danny_peguero
Rafael De Los Santos a.k.a. Poteleche, Santo Domingo, 2016
La Niguenta Strawberry Beer next to statue, image courtesy of @pnw.beer
La Nigüenta, with her mysterious origins and folkloric charm, has left an indelible mark on both Costa Rican and Dominican culture. She stands as a unique piece of heritage, embodying a spirit of resilience and optimism. She may be a simple figurine, but her significance is profound, representing the enduring belief in the power of luck and the human endeavor to court fortune’s favor.
La Nigüenta’s story is a fascinating blend of tradition, belief, and the universal pursuit of happiness and prosperity. Her role as a cultural touchstone endures as she whispers tales of luck, resilience, and the human desire to bend fate—a timeless theme that resonates across borders and generations.
If you have a personal story, insights to contribute or corrections that will enhance this post, please be in touch!
Further Reading:
Esta es LA VERDAD sobre el cuadro de LA NIÑA Y LA ESPINA | Historia de La Nigüenta, Kiskeya Life, 17 March 2024
Conoce la identidad de “la niña sacándose la espina”: Famoso cuadro que adornó decena de hogares, El Pais, 3 March 2024.
La Nigüenta o niña de la espina, cómo pasó de la tradición oral al arte kitsch, Bucentauro, 30 June 2021, Yonny Rodriguez.
La Nigüenta: The gift of luck, The Tico Times, 29 June 2012, Jack Donnelly.
El Nino de la Espina/El Espinario, El Museo del Prado.