Author Archives: Iris Park

Proverb – El Salvador

En casa de herrero, cuchillo de palo.[1]

In house of blacksmith, knife of wood

In the house of the blacksmith, is a knife of wood.

Jorge heard this proverb in his childhood used by the adults in El Salvador. His mother used to say this to Jorge’s older brother, Tony, because even though Tony helped out doing chores for their neighbor, he did not do those same chores at home. According to Jorge, this proverb is used when “someone should be doing something at home, he’s not doing it at home, he’s just doing it outside.” Basically, this proverb is used to point out how oftentimes people will do things better and more properly outside, but when back in the comfort of their homes, they are prone to slack off. Thus, although the blacksmith works hard all day working metal for others, in his own home he uses a knife made of wood.

I personally would interpret this proverb from a slightly different angle. To me, it speaks to the relationship between one’s private life and one’s professional life. I’ve heard somewhere that “Cooks never cook at home.” To me, this projects the same idea—what we do at the office, or at the factory, we do not like to carry over to the home, or we do not have the energy to do so. I think this speaks an unfortunate truth about our present society so caught up with work and careers—whether in El Salvador or in California. The fashion designer often cannot groom the self, and the doctor has no time to exercise. My mother is an English tutor, and I have often heard her complain that she does not have the time and energy to teach her own children. Of course, I have no way of knowing if this is what the original users of this proverb meant. However, I have a feeling if this proverb remains popular in the future, it will most likely be because of this sad irony of modern life.

[1] Annotation: Glazer, M. (1987). A Dictionary of Mexican American Proverbs. New York: Greedwood Press, p. 51

Superstition – El Salvador

Placing a bowl of water near the pillow will help prevent nightmares.

Jorge sleeps with a large bowl of water next to the head of his bed. He told me that it is something that he learned from his mother. Supposedly, the water will absorb any bad spirits or bad dreams, letting him sleep in peace. “It does help,” he told me. I asked him if this is a common custom in El Salvador, and he told me he is not sure. “You don’t really go around asking other people, you know,” he said.

This custom reveals the belief that bad dreams come from an external source, and can be captured physically. I find this belief to be an extremely common one—Native American dream-catchers purport to trap bad dream, the European succubus was definitely a physical creature—indeed the word nightmare echoes the widespread belief in the mara, the female creature who caused people to have nightmares by sitting upon their chests. Fortunately for Jorge, the source of his nightmares is soluble in water.

I think that this simple, convenient solution might also have inherited a belief in water as a powerful agent. Water is almost universally believed to have powers of purification—such as we see in so many religions. It seems like this folk remedy is an attempt to purify the air around the sleeper, cleansing it of whatever they are evil things that cause people to stir in their sleep.

Tradition – Kazakhstan

It is the duty of a dead man’s brother to marry his brother’s widowed wife.

Saltah told me that this was the custom in Kazakhstan in the past. When I asked if it still happens, she told me that it is not usual, but it does still sometimes happen. Also, she added that men used to marry multiple wives in Kazakhstan—as long as they could afford to support them all. Although this is not legal anymore, Saltah said she heard of instances where people do this anyway. According to her, the wives say that as long as they are comfortably supported and given separate houses, they are fine with the traditional arrangement.

I think that these traditions together show a much more traditional attitude toward marriage, as opposed to the contemporary associations of marriage and love. Rather than a vehicle for love, these customs seem to view marriage as partnerships to ensure financial and filial stability. The traditional gender roles are clearly emphasized over any notion of love. The duty of a husband is not to love his wife, but to food on the table. A sympathetic brother would want to make sure his brother’s wife is well taken care of; under these understandings of marriage, to marry the widow would be an ideal way to provide for her. Because there is little association between marriage and love, this does not bring about issues of jealousy the way a comparable relationship might in the US. This would also explain why the multiple wives did not mind the polygamy. Loyalty and affection are secondary, perhaps of little meaning to them. As long as the husband can fulfill his duty as breadwinner for all of the wives, they are satisfied. And because he can fulfill his duties as a husband to a greater degree than most men, it would make sense that he should receive a higher than average proportion of benefits afforded by the wives’ traditional role: more offspring.

Aging ritual–Salsa Dancers

Leave a reply

At many salsa dance scenes, if it is someone’s birthday, the band will play a version of the “Happy Birthday Song” to the salsa rhythm. If the birthday person is a woman, her male friends will form a ring around her while stepping to the music; other people and friends may or may not form a larger ring around this as well. Then a man will step into the ring one by one to dance with the birthday person, and then passes her off to another dancer in the circle. Sometimes the next man will simply find the right timing and snatch the birthday girl—but all in good fun. If the birthday person is a man, then his female friends will ring around him and do the same thing. Occasionally, if he is an advanced dancer, he will dance with two ladies at once, leading them with one arm each. The birthday person will switch partners until the end of the song, which is usually about 4-6 minutes long.

Jorge has been active in the Los Angeles salsa scene for about 11 years now. He told me that he did not see this happening at all at first, and it was about six years ago when he started seeing this unique custom—“and it spread like nothing!” The first place he saw it happen was at a Los Angeles club called Rodolfo. When asked what he thinks it means, he said it is simply to show that “this is her [the birthday girl’s] night,” and to make sure she is, literally, at the center of attention.

That most certainly seems to be the case—as a dancer, what could be more delightful than to have an entire ring of other dancers waiting just to dance with you? At least for this one song, the birthday person is the queen or king of the dance floor, and can dance with as many people during that song as she or he wants. It is also a chance for the dancer to show off, as almost the entire crowd will be watching and cheering. Beginner or champion, they get to show what they can do, and perhaps try to outdo what they did last year.

I also think it is a way for salsa dancers to celebrate the spontaneity and leadability of salsa. This is a birthday ritual that I have not seen in other dances, such as dancesport or Argentinean tango, for example. Compared to other such dances, to be able to improvise and to lead complete strangers are important skills in salsa, and spontaneity and flexibility are highly valued. Therefore, it really does make sense that such a custom—in which one dancer must be able to quickly adapt to a number of different partners, make smooth changes, spontaneously improvise in case of bad timing—would have developed and been so popular in salsa. It is a way for them to show off to other dancers, and confirm to themselves, their mastery of improvisation.

The flexible nature of salsa which allows for improvisation, also allows for creativity and invention. New moves, new tricks, new combinations are being invented everyday right on the dance floor—salseros and salseras are always experimenting, which is why one will often see one man leading two women at once, or two couple rapidly switching around, and frequently the switch itself can become a complex, fancy move as dancers experiment with different techniques for changing partners. Again, this ritual, then, is a great time to show off these invented skills, as normally on the dance floor there are not multiple dancers to switch around at one’s convenience.

Finally, I think the flexible attitude of the salsa dancers helped spread this ritual so widely in just six years. I was surprised to hear it was so young, because I have seen people do this in New York—even in Korea. Interestingly, each place I’ve seen it does it a bit differently. The New Yorkers that I’ve seen were in a ring as well, but instead of facing the dancers in the circle, they will walk, making a bit of a dizzier scene—the dancers focus a bit more on stylish walks, but seem to care less about a flashy partner switch. In Korea, they will not form a ring, but stand in a line instead. This makes for a much more orderly ritual, because there is rarely the case where two dancers accidentally approach the birthday person at one time. Again, instead of focusing so much on slick changes, the Korean dancers like to show off very fast spins.

Legend-Japanese

Leave a reply

In the abandoned outskirts of Osaka, there is a lonely tunnel that leads to a small lake with a small bridge. A forsaken and forgotten area, for years it was a convenient place for depressed Japanese people to end their lives in secrecy, without shame. Legend has it that the souls and spirits of these tormented people still linger there, and that living creatures who venture too close can sense the suffering and rage; they are in danger of turning mad from its misery.

This is a legend that Saltah learned from her Japanese boyfriend during her stay in Osaka, Japan. He and a friend had decided to go see the lake for themselves because of the legend. He said that his car engine suddenly stopped working, that his car started to quake, and that his friend completely panicked. When he got back home, he checked the Internet for news of a minor earthquake, but did not find any. Saltah, of course, wanted to check out the lake for herself. Saltah and her boyfriend went in a car packed with a group of friends. She says she is not easily scared, and rarely panics, but crossing the tunnel, she began to feel a chilly “pushing feeling.” They parked by the lake which was dark because “the trees are really tall—and they cover the sky.” Saltah began to feel “hysterical” as she yelled at her boyfriend not to stop the car; she said she yelled “Let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s just go!”

When I asked her what she thought this legend meant, it was clear that she believes every word of it. She told me that the spirits of those that committed suicide there were still there, and were probably more miserable because they could not escape the place. If a living person is exposed to this, she said, “their minds are crazy.” She then went on to remind me that the Japanese make so many of the world’s scariest movies—she seemed to be suggesting that there are many unhappy Japanese. “They were isolated for centuries on an island,” she said, and anyone or anything that is isolated for too long can get a little “crazy.”

I think there are a few things we might be able to deduce from this legend. First of all, it is interesting to note that a popular suicide site is a secluded place. It seems to me that this reveals a bit about Japanese attitudes toward suicide and shame. Often, we hear of people committing suicide in famous places, or people trying to jump in front of crowds—off buildings in large cities, off famous bridges, onto subway tracks. In the US, for example, the most popular place for suicide is the Golden Gate Bridge. One might read this as a desperate cry for attention, or ‘cry for help.’ In Japan, then, we see that this element must be largely missing from suicide motives. Far from a public cry for help, suicide in Osaka seems to be something shameful, something to do in secrecy. This is especially interesting in light of Japan’s historical tradition of seppaku and jigai—seppaku was sometimes performed publicly. However, when for the right reasons, suicide used to be considered courageous and honorable. Now that the public opinion has been largely westernized, suicide has become dishonorable, while the Japanese’ strong dislike of shame stays the same: now that suicide is shameful, it is done covertly, and is not used as an attempt to gain attention.

Another thing interesting to note is that this lake is in a rural, deserted place located near a large city. It seems to me that this may be an indication of the extremely urbanized nature of human life in the modern age. The source of terror and panic is not a hazardous highway, or a crowded city—but an isolated lake that lacks people, that lacks artificial lighting. It is surely a sign of the times that people now find reason to fear a place for lacking modern modifications.