Monthly Archives: May 2025

Festival of São António

Age: 20

Date of Performance: 4/24/2025

Language: English

Nationality: Portuguese

Occupation: Student

Primary Language: English

Residence: United States

  1. Text

The informant is a college student. She referenced a festival honoring the Saint of Lisbon in Portugal, where she grew up. Her family used to celebrate the festival with little parties and elaborate decorations to honor their Portuguese nationality.

2. Context

“You celebrate with little parties and you decorate with a specific flower called manjericão. And you dress traditionally and do a Portuguese dance with flower arches.”

“I’ve been doing it since I gained consciousness. I liked it when we did it at school. They would make us learn the dance with a boy and you got to do it with him for all the parents.”

“I would be like ‘ooooo who’s my partner going to be this year.’ But in the street you have to be part of like a neighborhood group to be in the real parade.”

“But the little parties are for everyone and each neighborhood sets one up. Just like beer and food trucks and live music.”

“Some people call the whole thing ‘santos populares’ because sometimes there is more than one saint.”

3. Analysis

This is a festival that honors the informant’s nationality and provides an opportunity to celebrate with friends and family and engage in patriotism through folklore. It engages tradition and a variety of folkloric practices to honor Portuguese saints and build city pride. It is folklore in that it is artistic communication in the broader community and none of the festival practices have authored ownership.

Eat Long Noodles on Your Birthday for a Long Life

Nationality: American
Age: 20
Occupation: Student
Residence: Chino, California
Language: English

1. TEXT/TRANSCRIPTION
On my birthday, my parents always made me eat noodles. It didn’t matter what else we were having, there had to be noodles. They’d say, “You need to eat long noodles so you’ll have a long life.” It was non-negotiable. Even if I didn’t feel like it, they’d put a plate in front of me and tell me to just eat at least one bite for good luck.

Technically, in Filipino tradition, you’re supposed to eat pancit, which is this stir-fried noodle dish with vegetables and meat. It’s super common at birthdays, parties, or any kind of celebration. But in my house, we never really had pancit, we always had spaghetti instead. Filipino-style spaghetti, with sweet sauce and hot dogs in it. It’s kind of a thing in the Philippines, especially at kids’ birthday parties. So for me, the tradition kind of morphed into eating long spaghetti noodles instead of pancit, but the meaning was still the same.

I remember one year I asked, “Can I just skip the noodles this time?” and my parents were like, “No, do you want to shorten your life?” They weren’t completely serious, but also… kind of serious. It became this lighthearted ritual, but with a deep undertone: you do it because you respect the meaning behind it, even if it’s just a couple of bites.

2. CONTEXT 
This is something I’ve heard my whole life from my Filipino family. My parents grew up with it, my aunts and uncles too. It’s one of those traditions that gets passed down without anyone sitting you down to explain it, you just know. The idea is that the length of the noodle symbolizes the length of your life, so you shouldn’t break or cut it when you eat it. And it’s not just limited to birthdays either, it shows up at other celebrations too, but birthdays are the main one where it really matters.

Even though I grew up in the U.S., my family still brought this tradition with them. We didn’t always follow every single Filipino custom, but this one stuck. What’s interesting is how we adapted it, like replacing pancit with spaghetti, especially when I was a kid and probably pickier about food. But the core idea stayed intact, and that made it feel both traditional and personal.

3. INTERPRETATION
This superstition is rooted in a common cultural motif found in many Asian cultures: the idea that long noodles = long life. In Filipino culture, especially influenced by Chinese heritage and local folk beliefs, pancit has come to represent prosperity, health, and longevity. The ritual of eating noodles on your birthday is a symbolic act, one that links the celebrant’s life to continuity, abundance, and family tradition.

By emphasizing that the noodles should be uncut or unbroken, the tradition reinforces the value of uninterrupted life and good fortune. It also reflects a worldview where small everyday actions hold spiritual or symbolic weight, what you do with your food matters, especially during life’s milestones. In this way, eating noodles isn’t just a meal; it’s a performative wish for the future.

The adaptation from pancit to spaghetti shows how traditions evolve when cultures blend or when diasporic families make substitutions that fit their environment or tastes. Filipino-style spaghetti, which is distinctly sweeter than Western versions and a staple at birthday parties, becomes not just a workaround but a cultural hybrid, reinforcing Filipino identity in a uniquely modern way. It speaks to how immigrants and their children navigate honoring heritage while also reshaping it.

Overall, this superstition isn’t about fear, it’s about hope, continuity, and connection. It turns a birthday into a spiritual renewal and brings generations together through a shared plate of noodles, whether traditional or not.

If You Drop a Spoon or Fork, Someone Will Visit

Nationality: American
Age: 20
Occupation: Student
Residence: Chino, California
Language: English

1. TEXT/TRANSCRIPTION
So there’s this superstition I grew up hearing from my friends that always stuck with me. If you’re sitting at a table and you accidentally drop a spoon or fork while eating with others, like not on purpose, it has to be an accident, then it means someone is going to come visit. And not just anyone: if it’s a spoon, a woman is going to show up. If it’s a fork, a man will.

It sounds kind of silly when I say it out loud, but it’s one of those things that we always mention when it happens. Over break, I was hanging out with a group of friends at someone’s house, and someone dropped a fork without meaning to. Immediately someone said, “Ohhh! A guy is about to show up!” We all laughed about it, but then, no joke, our male friend who hadn’t planned on coming did end up showing up shortly after. We all freaked out a little. Even though we didn’t seriously believe it, in that moment it felt kind of real.

But again, the key thing is: it has to be accidental. If you throw it down on purpose to “summon” someone, it doesn’t count. The superstition only works if it happens naturally. That’s always part of how it’s told, if someone tries to fake it, people will be like, “Nope, doesn’t work like that.” I think that’s part of what makes it feel more genuine when it “comes true.”

2. CONTEXT 
This is something that’s always been passed around casually in my family, it’s not like someone sat me down and explained it. It’s just one of those things people say in the moment, kind of joking but also kind of serious. I mostly heard it from my grandma and some of my titas growing up, and they’d say it like, “Ay naku, a visitor’s coming!” right after a utensil hit the floor. It was always said in Taglish (Tagalog-English mix), and there’d usually be a little excitement in their voices, like they were waiting to see who it would be.

It wasn’t until I got older that I realized not everyone knows this. When I started telling my non-Filipino friends about it, they were like, “Wait, what?” But even they started getting into it once they saw it happen a few times. Now it’s a little thing we do whenever we’re hanging out, if something drops, we pause and guess who’s about to show up. And every once in a while, it lines up eerily well. I think that’s what keeps it alive for me, it becomes a small shared moment between people.

3. INTERPRETATION
This belief functions as a playful but meaningful way to anticipate social interaction and visitors, blending the domestic space with the unseen or unexpected. In a broader cultural sense, it reflects the value many Filipino households place on hospitality, community, and relational awareness. The table is more than just a place to eat, it’s a social hub, and the sudden falling of a utensil is interpreted not as an accident, but as a sign or omen of connection to come.

Requiring the drop to be accidental reinforces the idea that this is something out of our control, a message from the universe or spirit world, not something humans can manipulate. That reinforces a cultural worldview where unseen forces or energies are often involved in daily life. It also makes the moment feel more magical or significant when it happens: it wasn’t caused by you, but it still concerns you.

This kind of folklore has emotional and symbolic value. It transforms small mishaps into moments of meaning, creating a sense of anticipation, wonder, and collective storytelling. Especially within Filipino culture, where storytelling and oral tradition are strong, it becomes a way of bonding and bridging generations. Even when treated playfully, the superstition holds onto something deeper: a belief in signs, synchronicity, and the porous boundary between the everyday and the unseen.

Don’t Split the Pole!

Nationality: American
Age: 20
Occupation: Student
Residence: San Antonio, Texas
Language: English

1. TEXT/TRANSCRIPTION

It’s something I’ve said countless times, probably more than any other superstition. What it means is, if you’re walking with someone and there’s an obstruction in your path, like a pole, signpost, tree, or doorway, both of you are supposed to walk on the same side of it. If you let the object split the two of you, it’s considered bad luck, specifically for your relationship or friendship.

I grew up really believing this. I don’t remember exactly who told me first, maybe my mom, or possibly an older cousin, but I know I learned it early on, and I took it seriously. It wasn’t just something to laugh about. If I was walking with a friend and we accidentally split a pole or doorway, I would stop right there, grab their arm, and say, “Nope, we have to go back and do it again.” It didn’t matter if we were in a rush or people were watching. I needed us to walk through the same way again, together, to fix it.

It got especially bad in middle school when friendships felt so fragile and important. There were so many shifts in social groups and people coming and going that I started thinking, what if this little mistake is the reason someone ghosts me or stops talking to me? I know that sounds dramatic, but when you’re young and trying to hold onto people you care about, this kind of thing feels like it could make or break your luck. So I made it into a rule. If we were friends, we didn’t split poles, period.

As I got older, I realized not everyone knew about this superstition. Some of my newer friends had never heard of it until I made a big deal about it one day. They’d walk on the other side of a pole, and I’d gasp and be like, “You just split the pole! That’s bad luck!” At first, they thought I was joking, but when I made us walk back and fix it, they could tell I was at least half-serious. Now it’s turned into a sort of joke between us. Even though most of us don’t really believe in it anymore, we still say something whenever it happens. Like, “Uh-oh, we just cursed our friendship!” But we still go back and fix it, just in case.

2. CONTEXT
I think this superstition stuck with me because it gave me a sense of control in relationships, especially when everything else felt uncertain. As a kid, you don’t really get to decide who stays in your life or who grows distant. So having a rule, even a superstitious one, made me feel like I could protect the friendships that mattered to me. I always interpreted it more emotionally than spiritually. It wasn’t that I thought a ghost would come after us or that we’d get into a fight that day, it was more symbolic. It meant we were choosing to stay connected.

Even now, if I split a pole with someone I care about, I feel off. I’ll say something like, “That was bad luck,” but deep down I’m still that kid who’s scared of losing people. So even though it’s a silly ritual on the surface, it represents something real: how hard I’ve tried to keep people close.

3. INTERPRETATION
The superstition “don’t split the pole” reveals a deeply personal and social anxiety around separation, conflict, and emotional distance, especially within friendships. Though it may seem like a quirky or humorous ritual, its persistence over time shows how folklore can become a protective mechanism. For children and adolescents, who often experience uncertainty in their relationships, such superstitions offer a form of magical thinking that reinforces their desire for stability and connection.

Culturally, the superstition speaks to a larger human fear of division. Physical separation around an object becomes a metaphor for emotional separation. The insistence on reuniting on the same side of the pole enacts a miniature ritual of repair and reaffirmation. It’s a way of saying, “We are still on the same path,” even when real life makes that uncertain.

This type of folklore also reflects how beliefs are passed on not just through formal teaching, but through lived practice and performance. It’s rarely written down or explained in detail, yet it carries emotional weight. In a historical sense, superstitions like these may have roots in older symbolic systems that treat thresholds and divisions (like doors, gates, or posts) as spiritually significant. Even if those origins are lost today, the emotional and relational logic behind the ritual survives.

If Your Nose Itches, Someone’s Talking About You

Nationality: American
Age: 20
Occupation: Student
Residence: San Antonio, Texas

1. TEXT/TRANSCRIPTION

“If your nose is itching, someone’s talking about you!” That’s what my grandma always used to say, usually with this knowing little smile, like she knew something I didn’t. It didn’t matter what time of day it was or what else might be causing it, dry skin, allergies, whatever, if you touched your nose or started scratching it, she’d say, “Oop, somebody’s talking about you!”

And that would immediately spark a guessing game: Who? Was it a friend? A crush? Someone gossiping? Was it good talk or bad talk? Sometimes she’d add, “It’s probably someone who likes you,” or if the itch was stronger, she’d say, “You better watch your back!” It turned a totally normal bodily reaction into something social and mysterious.

I picked up on that habit too. Even now, I catch myself saying it, if my nose itches during a conversation, I’ll say, “Someone must be talking about me,” and we’ll all try to guess who. It’s not something I take super seriously anymore, but it’s part of how I relate to people. It’s one of those sayings that turns something physical into something relational.

What’s funny is that I’ve heard people from other families and backgrounds say the exact same thing, sometimes with their own twist. One friend told me their version is “Your ears are burning if someone’s talking about you,” and another said, “If your nose itches, you’re going to kiss a fool.” So there are all these slightly different versions, but the basic idea is the same, your body knows something your mind doesn’t.

2. CONTEXT
This superstition was passed down through my family, especially through the women, my grandma, my mom, my aunt. They said it casually, but it always felt meaningful. I grew up in a household where small signs were treated as important, whether it was reading tea leaves, dreams, or body sensations. The nose itching thing was one of the lighter, more playful superstitions, but it still carried that sense that we are always connected to others, even when we’re not physically near them.

When I got older, I started noticing how people outside my family said it too. At school, if someone scratched their nose and someone else pointed it out, we’d all laugh and say, “Who’s talking about you?” It created a little moment of closeness. Everyone joined in on the guessing, and it made you feel like maybe you mattered to someone, even if you didn’t know who. It made the invisible social world feel more real.

3. INTERPRETATION
This superstition demonstrates how people use folklore to make sense of their social lives and emotional experiences. The idea that your body can “sense” when you’re being talked about reflects a desire to feel socially important, that you are on someone’s mind, even when you’re not present. It gives people a sense of invisible connection, a way of imagining themselves as part of a broader social web.

Psychologically, this belief offers comfort and validation. Instead of brushing off an itch as meaningless, it gets turned into a positive sign: someone’s noticing you, thinking of you, or even obsessed with you. That may explain why the superstition is often shared in a light, playful tone. It lets people flirt, joke, or speculate about relationships in a way that feels fun but still emotionally charged.

Culturally, this piece of folklore aligns with broader traditions of interpreting the body as a kind of social sensor, common in many cultures. From twitching eyes to burning ears, people have long tried to decode physical sensations as messages from the unseen world. The endurance of this belief, even in a scientific age, speaks to how powerful these interpretive frameworks remain. In a time when we’re overwhelmed by information, small embodied rituals like this one offer a personal, intuitive way to feel connected.