Author Archives: Sophia Meyer

The Meatball

K is a 20 year old student at USC. She grew up in an Italian-American household on the east coast, but places more emphasis on the American part than the Italian.

K and I grew up together, and one day we were reminiscing on things we remembered from elementary school (we went to different ones), she got very excited and asked me if I remembered the Meatball song, clearly expecting me to remember, and when I told her I had no idea what she was talking about she quickly launched into song:

On top of spaghetti,

All covered with cheese,

I lost my poor meatball,

When somebody sneezed.

It rolled off the table,

And on to the floor,

And then my poor meatball,

Rolled out of the door.

It rolled in the garden,

And under a bush,

And then my poor meatball,

Was nothing but mush.

The mush was as tasty

As tasty could be,

And then the next summer,

It grew into a tree.

The tree was all covered,

All covered with moss,

And on it grew meatballs,

And tomato sauce.

So if you eat spaghetti,

All covered with cheese,

Hold on to your meatball,

Whenever you sneeze.

K doesn’t remember where she first heard it, but she knows her dad used to sing it randomly. “He’s just an odd man and he would say it when we would sneeze and my mom would play into it when we sneezed and didn’t cover our mouths.”

What surprised me most about this piece was that she was so shocked that I had never heard it before. Growing up in the same town and spending a lot of time at each other’s houses, it surprised her that I had no recollection of it. I was especially intrigued by the vigor with which she recited the song, as it clearly made an imprint in her mind.

The Turnip

Y is a 19 year old student at USC. She grew up near Chicago, with a mother that had lived in Belarus until she was roughly 25 years old.

Y and I were chatting about silly stories that we were told as children, and she relayed the story of “The guy and the turnip” to me. She originally learned the story in Russian, but can only remember it in english.

“There’s a turnip…there’s a farmer who plants a turnip, and then it grows, it grows, it grows and get huge and every member of the family pulls on it. Grandpa, grandma, mom, dad, the dog, the cat, and the mouse is the last to pull on the turnip and that’s when they’re all able to get it out. It’s a story about how everyone has to work together to accomplish something, even the smallest and insignificant individuals matter in the quest for the turnip. Everybody is important, and if you have big problems you need everybody’s help to work together…everybody pushed and pulled on the turnip, but it took everyone working together to get it out.”

When I asked her what the story meant to her, she said: “When I was a kid and I would…like not share or not want to work with someone, like normal kid stuff, teachers and my grandma would remind me of this story.”

“I just remember this story…it’s like in my head it was the first thing I thought about” [when we started talking about stories from childhood]

After hearing this story from Y, I was immediately reminded of an english proverb I’ve heard for as long as I can remember: “It takes a village.” One of the main qualifiers of folklore is that it has multiplicity and variation, and I can’t help but wonder about what these two versions of the same idea say about our respective cultures. As far as I can remember, there wasn’t any kind of story attached with the phrase, “It takes a village”; it was just something people would always say, whereas Y has a whole story in her heard about a turnip to remind her of that same idea.

Arak to cure a stomach ache

L is 20 years old and a student at USC. She grew up in Michigan, but spent most summers in Lebanon with family. Her dad grew up in Lebanon and immigrated to the United States in his early 20s, and her mom grew up in the United States in a Lebanese immigrant family.

L and I were sitting a coffee shop talking about all of the homeopathic remedies our parents taught us for curing ailments and she shared a Lebanese one with me; she said that if you have a stomach ache you can pour arak (Lebanese liquor/moonshine) on a towel and put that over your stomach to make you feel better.

L learned this from her mom and dad, who learned it from their parents and other family members that grew up in Lebanon or grew up around Lebanese Culture.

L doesn’t necessarily believe that it works, but it was a big part of her childhood and she has strong memories of her mom telling her to do it whenever she had a stomach ache.

What interests me the most about this folk remedy is that L didn’t really have any idea how it was supposed to work, but knew that it was widely-practiced by people in her community and in her culture. While she was talking about it, I could see that L was a bit confused herself as to why she so easily believed it to be a natural course of action when one had a stomach ache. It certainly speaks to the power that folk remedies can hold through generations; so much so that even though more recent generations may not have any reason to believe it will work, they’re still ready and willing to practice it.