Author Archives: vbuccell

Detroit’s East Market – Legend

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My father told me about living in Detroit. His side of the family is almost all Italian (Sicilian, more specifically). There was a saying that “You always know someone in the Mafia”, even if you weren’t aware of it. Detroit is notorious for high crime rates, or at least it was when my father was younger. He himself knew that his uncle was friends with people in the Mafia, which made many family members very uncomfortable. My father assumed that this meant he didn’t have to pay for protection (to the Mafia) for his liquor store, which many other store owners had to do. 

My dad knew a story about a newcomer to Detroit – someone who moved there without knowing what the situation was like. He sells their house and buys a new one in Detroit, with hopes of making it in the motor industry. Unfortunately, his perfect view of the city is shattered upon arrival, where robberies are rampant and terrible shootouts happen every day. The newcomer is terrified and keeps moving to new neighborhoods, asking for police help each time. The police prove more than useless and it becomes clear that they have little to no control over the city. Eventually the man, who has been robbed and mugged multiple times, is ready to give up on his dream. Just then, he stumbles into a new neighborhood. People are selling fresh fruit, vegetables, and flowers out in the open. The newcomer is baffled – how are they able to do this and feel safe? He figures this area is more affluent and can fund their police better. But when he asks about the police, he gets laughed at. “The Mafia protects us,” respond the vendors. Apparently, this was the area in the city most tightly under the Mafia’s control. Crime was almost completely eliminated. My father referred to this place as the Eastern Market – one of the first farmer’s markets. He visited himself and testified to its truth – it was safer than most other places in Detroit at the time.

Context:

My dad heard this story from his parents, who warned him about going in certain neighborhoods because of high crime rates. My dad knew it to be true himself after visiting the area. The story reminds them that oftentimes there’s a whole lot going on that you don’t see – his uncle was a good example of this. A different relative was put in prison for obstruction of justice related to Detroit crime. He worked for the police. My father took dangerous places very seriously, especially after working at a Detoir emergency hospital where he saw gunshot patients and stabbed patients constantly.

Analyis:

There’s an inherent warning in this story, and a forced acceptance of the way things are. The story’s purpose is to help children (maybe more mature children) understand the city they live in, and come to terms with the fact that someone they know might be involved in crime. They must also come to terms with the fact that the police are not, in fact, safe people to talk to. They can easily be bribed and were not effective at all in eliminating crime. Finally, the story helps the children remember that the Eastern Market is one of the safer areas in Detroit.

Buddha’s Death – Myth

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There are many, many stories about Buddha and many variations on each story. My mother told me one such story about his death – by poison. 

In Burmese culture, Buddhist monks do not have possessions or any source of income. They are meant to be separate from society and free of worldly attachments. However, this means that if they want to eat they must often beg for offerings from Buddhist civilians. They travel around the streets with a special offering bowl and eat whatever people put in it. They must eat everything to show their thanks and to avoid waste or greed. Buddha himself also abided by this rule, and on one particular day was offered a meal of rice, cakes, and mushrooms (or some other sort of vegetable). Buddha had some inhuman powers because of his enlightenment, and was able to immediately tell that the mushrooms were poisonous. Buddha ate the entire meal anyways because he had to as an enlightened being. He died, but it is not seen as a tragic event. Buddha knew he was ready to die and willingly accepted the poison.

Context:

My mother learned a great deal of Buddha stories from her grandmother. This was the primary way she was instructed to live her life, and the primary way in which she was taught Buddhism. My mother no longer practices Buddhism to the same extent that she did when she was younger, but she did teach my sister and I how to properly pray and how to be good people (based on Buddha’s teachings). My mother related this story to the monks that we used to see at Burmese temple – we would always donate food to them when we visited. 

Analysis:

I believe this story has more close ties to Burmese culture than some other Buddha stories. It incorporates an element of Burmese culture that might be uncommon in other cultures. I think it also helps Buddhists accept death when it finds them, whether it is of old age or of something more sudden. It also might help them forgive people who make mistakes or who have malicious intentions. It carries the message that if one is prepared to die, death is not a tragedy. Furthermore, it is more important to live an enlightened life than it is to live a long life.

Buddha’s Birth Story – Myth

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This story comes from Burmese Buddhist teachings. My mother learned it from her grandmother.

Before Buddha’s birth, a white elephant came to see his pregnant mother. My mother could not remember the significance of this, but did remember that Buddha was not born naturally – he magically emerged from the side of his mother’s womb. The “natural” way was seen as impure, and this was a sign of his enlightenment. As soon as he was born, he was able to walk. He did not cry or act like a baby. Instead, he walked across a lake to sit by a lotus flower and meditate. 

There are other versions of this story, and the more complete telling involves a dream of Buddha’s mother, Queen Maya. In the dream, the white elephant carries a lotus flower and strikes Maya on her side. Then, Brahmin monks were called to interpret the dream, and advised the king and queen to let their son leave the home so he could become Buddha. If he stayed, he would become a world conqueror.

Context:

My mother heard lots of religious stories from her grandmother. This was the main method that Buddhism was taught to her – from parables about Buddha’s life. My mother is no longer very religious but the morals that she learned from these stories have stuck with her for her whole life. Despite marrying a non-Buddhist, she taught my sister and I how to properly pray and sometimes used examples from Buddhism to teach us how to be good people. My parents wanted us to be exposed to both Christianity and Buddhism so that when we were older we would have a solid foundation if we decided to practice either.

Analysis:

I always found Buddhism interesting because even though there are some deities that vary throughout different types of Buddhism, the main recipient of prayer is someone who was still a human. My mother always emphasized that Buddha was just a human who achieved enlightenment. She made it seem that technically, anyone could become a Buddha. It certainly wouldn’t be easy, but it would be possible. This belief may not be common to all types of Buddhism. Anyways, this origin story seems like it undermines that belief. Buddha had a more “pure” birth than the rest of us so we’re all already all off to a rough start. This story lends Buddha a lot of mythical elements, which I think helps make him a figure worthy of prayer. I also don’t think the point of Buddhism (for most people) is to fully achieve enlightenment, even if that is technically possible – it’s just to follow in Buddha’s example and have a positive impact on the world and people around us.

Burmese Possession Story – Memorate

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My mother’s mother (my grandma) was a very spiritual person, and susceptible to being possessed. Strangely enough, her father (my great-grandfather) had a few encounters with ghosts as well. Let’s call him GG for short. GG was a Burmese citizen, and grew up in the time after World War II. He worked for the government in a British building (Burma was a British colony until 1948). During the war, Burma was invaded by Japanese armies but freed by British armies. Lots of Burmese soldiers and citizens were said to have perished in the buildings where GG worked, and were therefore rumored to be haunted. GG was sleeping in a four-post bed, but there was no sheet or cover draped between them. In the middle of the night, he saw an Indian man wearing only a sarong (a cloth wrap, like pants) climbing down one of the four bed posts towards him. The man strangles GG and they fight. GG claims the experience was much more real and vivid than any dream he’d ever had. 

Context:

My mother heard this story and others from her mother and from GG’s wife, her grandmother. My grandmother obviously believes in ghosts and spirits, having been possessed by them herself. My mother definitely believes they exist but is unsure of their connection to some sort of afterlife. My mother also definitely believes that certain places can be haunted – she told me a similar story of a house she lived in with a long staircase to reach the front door. Multiple people one day heard a knock and someone begging for a doctor, but there was no one there when they opened the door (and not enough time had passed for them to run back down the stairs). The building she lived in was said to be haunted.

Analysis:

Spirits and impossible-to-explain phenomena are common in my family’s Burmese stories. They compound on each other to reinforce the belief that spirits do exist, and that places can be haunted. This is especially true when multiple people witness the same supernatural event, like the invisible knocker. These particular ghost stories of my great-grandfather also serve a secondary purpose – to remind my family of the atrocities that happened to Burmese citizens during World War II. It’s strange to hear about the British people being the good guys in Burma, but in this case they were. Being a British colony, my grandparents (and to some extent my mother) were forced to learn English in school, along with British history and customs. The fact that it was the ghost of an Indian man and not a Burmese man could mean anything or nothing at all. My mother did tell me that Indian citizens often crossed the border to Burma in search of better living conditions and better work opportunities. Unfortunately, they were often met with discrimination and had to pretend to be Burmese to be accepted.

Burmese Ghost Story – Memorate

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In Burmese culture, people become spirits for a short time after they die. After someone dies, their loved ones will permit their spirit to occupy the house for seven days, after which they must be sent away by a Buddhist priest. My mother grew up in Burma (now Myanmar) and her family abided by this tradition. One of my mother’s aunts died when she was young – she was around 10-12 years old and living in Malaysia at the time. When it was time for the priest to send the spirit of her aunt away, my mom’s mother (my grandma) suddenly flew out of the chair she was sitting in, flew across the room near the priest and spoke with her dead sister’s voice. The priest confirmed that it was not my grandmother, and had a short conversation with my grandmother’s sister. She bid farewell to everyone, and my grandma was exhausted and didn’t remember much about the experience afterwards. My grandma classifies herself as “lait pya”, or susceptible to being possessed. A very similar possession happened much later in her life, after she and the rest of my mother’s family immigrated to the United States. Another of my mother’s aunts passed away and after seven days a Buddhist priest was summoned to send her spirit away. This time, my possessed grandmother’s voice was only gargling sounds; the aunt that passed away died from laryngeal cancer and had a tracheostomy – she wasn’t able to speak but she was able to make that noise.

Context:

My mother was actually present at this event, although she did also hear other similar stories from my grandmother herself. She feels forced to believe in the spirits because of how many examples there are and because she actually witnessed a few instances of possession. She still isn’t sure if she believes in any sort of afterlife, but she was upset that her parents didn’t possess anyone or try to contact her after their deaths. 

Analysis:

In Burmese culture, spirits are seen as a much more natural phenomena than in Western or American culture, where we treat them as anomalies (ghosts). Most don’t think much of them – they believe they exist and stay around the house for a week after a death. How could they not? This story confirms that belief, and there’s just too much evidence and too many witnesses to call it something else. Therefore, the story’s purpose is to assure Burmese family members that this phenomenon does exist. It’s just one of many spirit or ghost stories that all work together to provide logical proof for a cultural belief.