Category Archives: Folk Beliefs

The Wolf and the Fortune Teller

Nationality: Iranian
Age: 53
Occupation: Chief Financial Officer
Residence: San Diego
Performance Date: April 13, 2017
Primary Language: English
Language: Farsi

Late one night, an old fortuneteller was returning home from the local market place. Since it was getting dark rather quickly, the fortuneteller wanted to get home quicker and took a shortcut through the woods, where she ran into a rather hungry wolf. As the wolf prepared to devour her, she cried out, “Oh wolf! Spare me and I will tell you your future!”

And so, the wolf agreed, and the fortuneteller held the wolf’s ear and told the wolf, “You will become a shepard.” The wolf  sat down and started crying, much to the surprise of the fortuneteller.

“Why are you crying,” asked the fortuneteller.

“I’m afraid you might be lying,” said the wolf. Essentially, this little folktale is a small little anecdote about the dangers of being dishonest while also playing upon dramatic irony in the situation by having the wolf (the supposed antagonist of the piece) appear to be distraught when he believes that the fortune teller is lying to him and it is all a sham. In many ways, this can be seen as a Middle Eastern alternative spin on the classic western folk tale of the Boy Who Cried Wolf.

 

The Stripes of a Tiger

Nationality: Brazilian
Age: 19
Occupation: Student
Residence: Los Angeles
Performance Date: April 21, 2017
Primary Language: English
Language: Portuguese

Once upon a time, there was a tiger who had a farm. The farm was overgrown with underbrush and the tiger sought a worker to clear the ground for him to plant.

The tiger called all the animals together and said to them when they had assembled, “I need a good workman at once to clear my farm of the underbrush. To the one who will do this work I offer an ox in payment.”

The monkey was the first one to step forward and offer himself up for the position. The tiger tried him for a little while but he was not a good workman at all. He did not work steadily enough to accomplish anything. The tiger fired him very soon and he did not pay him.

Then the tiger hired the goat to do the work. The goat worked faithfully but he did not have the brains to work well. He would clear a little of the farm in one place and then he would go away and work on another part of it. The tiger discharged him very soon without paying him.

Next the tiger tried the armadillo. The armadillo was very strong and he did the work well. The trouble with him was that he had a HUGE appetite. There were a great many ants at the farm and the armadillo could never pass one up without stopping to eat it. It was lunch time all day long with him. The tiger discharged him and sent him away without paying him anything.

Finally, the rabbit applied for the position. The tiger laughed at him and said, “Why, little one, you are too small to do the work. The monkey, the goat, and the armadillo have all failed to give satisfaction. Of course a little beast like you will fail too.”

However, the rabbit worked well, and soon he had cleared a large portion of the ground. The next day he worked just as well. The tiger found himself lucky to hire the rabbit.

After the tiger had gone away the rabbit said to the tiger’s son, “The ox which your father is going to give me is has a white spot on his left ear and another on his right side, right?”

“Oh no,” replied the tiger’s son. “He is red all over with just a tiny white spot on his right ear.”

The rabbit worked for a while longer and then he said, “The ox which your father is going to give me is kept by the river, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” replied the tiger’s son.

The rabbit had made a plan to go and get the ox without waiting to finish his work. Just as he started off he saw the tiger returning. The tiger noticed that the rabbit had not worked so well when he was away. After that he stayed and watched the rabbit until the whole farm was cleared. Then the tiger gave the rabbit the ox as he had promised.

“You must kill the ox,” he said to the rabbit, “in a place where there are neither flies nor mosquitoes.”

The rabbit went away with the ox. After he had gone for some distance he thought he would kill him. He heard a chicken, however, crowing in the distance and he knew that there must be a farm yard near. There would be flies of course. He went on farther and again he thought that he would kill the ox.s. Since the rabbit thought there would be mosquitoes there he decided not to kill the ox. He went on and on and finally he came to a high place where there was a strong breeze blowing. “There are no mosquitoes here,” he said to himself. “The place is so far removed from any habitation that there are no flies, either.” He decided to kill the ox.

Just as he was ready to eat the ox, along came the tiger. “Rabbit, you have been such a good friend of mine,” said the tiger, “and now I am so very, very hungry that all my ribs show, as you yourself can see. Will you not be a good kind rabbit and give me a piece of your ox?”

The rabbit gave the tiger a piece of the ox. The tiger devoured, leaned back and said, “Is that all you are going to give me to eat?”

The rabbit did not dare refuse to give him any more of the ox. The tiger ate and ate and ate until he had devoured that entire ox. The rabbit had been able to get only a tiny morsel of it. He was very, very angry at the tiger.

One day not long after the rabbit went to a place not far from the tiger’s house and began cutting down pieces of wood. The tiger soon came along and asked him what he was doing.

“I’m getting ready to build a stockade around myself,” replied the rabbit. “Haven’t you heard the orders?” The tiger said that he hadn’t heard any orders.

“That is very strange,” said the rabbit. “The order has gone forth that every beast shall fortify himself by building a stockade around himself. All the beasts are doing it.”

The tiger got alarmed. “Oh dear! What shall I do,” he cried. “I don’t know how to build a stockade. I never could do it in the world. Good rabbit! Kind rabbit! You are such, a very good friend of mine. Couldn’t you, as a great favor, because of our long friendship, build a stockade about me before you build one around yourself?”

The rabbit replied that he could not think of risking his own life by building the tiger’s fortifications first. Finally, however, he consented to do it.

The rabbit cut down great quantities of long sharp sticks. He set them firmly in the ground about the tiger. He fastened others securely over the top until the tiger was completely shut in by strong bars. Then he went away and left the tiger.

The tiger waited and waited for something to happen to show him the need of the fortifications. Nothing at all happened.

He got very hungry and thirsty. After a while the monkey passed that way.

The tiger called out, “Monkey, has the danger passed?”

The monkey did not know what danger the tiger meant, but he replied, “Yes.”

Then the tiger said, “Monkey, will you not please be so kind as to help me out of my stockade?”

“Let the one who got you in there help you out,” replied the monkey and he went on his way.

Along came the goat and the tiger called out, “Goat, has the danger passed?”

The goat did not know anything about any danger, but he replied, “Yes.”

Then the tiger said, “Kind goat, please be so kind as to help me out of my stockade.”

“Let the one who got you in there help you out,” replied the goat as he went on his way.

Along came the armadillo and the tiger called out, “O, armadillo, has the danger passed?”

The armadillo had not heard of any danger, but he replied that it had passed.

Then the tiger said, “Kind armadillo, you have always been such a good friend and neighbor. Please help me now to get out of my stockade.”

“Let the one who got you in there help you out,” replied the armadillo as he went on his way.

The tiger jumped and jumped with all his force at the top of the stockade, but he could not break through. He jumped and jumped with all his might at the front side of the stockade, but he could not break through. He thought that never in the world would he be able to break out. He rested for a little while and as he rested he thought. He thought how bright the sun was shining outside. He thought what good hunting there was in the jungle. He thought how cool the water was at the spring. Once more he jumped and jumped with all his might at the back side of the stockade. At last he broke through. He did not get through, however, without getting bad cuts on both his sides from the sharp edges of the staves. Until this day the tiger has stripes on both his sides. This a little fun folk tone analyzing how the Brazilian mythos sees the world of animals coming together biogenetically into what it actually is.

 

Pocahontas

Nationality: American
Age: 55
Occupation: Interior Decorator
Residence: Chatham, MA
Performance Date: 3/11/17
Primary Language: English

The story of Pocahontas and the reason I know and was told the story is because…. supposedly I am related to her.  Her story is that when the Europeans, English people, came to Jamestown, long, long ago, it was a harsh, harsh climate and environment, and they did not know how to survive and she was the princess of the Powhatan Tribe, she was a young girl though, and her father was chief… of the Powhatan Tribe, and she was very curious about the settlement and, um, was kinda always, you know, peering in and looking around, and finally she got braver and braver, um, came into the village, the people invited her in, but really, these people– the settlers– had no idea how to live in this climate and when winter hit, it was super harsh.  And they didn’t know what the land had to offer, I don’t even think they knew what sweet potatos were, they’d probably never seen corn before– things like that.  But the Indian people knew how to live, uh, they’d been there for millenia, so they– winter was not an issue for them, but it was killing all the Jamestown people.  And so, um, Pocahontas, who’d kinda befriended them, I think she was kinda  a pet, and particularly to John Smith.  So anyway, Pocahontas teaches these people how to live, but her father did not like her running over to the white men’s camp, and she had particularly befriended John Smith, and he didn’t approve of that at all.  So, I guess, John Smith– you know they were exploring and took a group of people out to the wilderness to look around and the Indians captured them cause they didn’t like the white people.  And I’m telling this so badly haha cause now I’m realizing that, like, Chief Powhatan didn’t know that Pocahontas had been sneaking into their village and he didn’t know that she had befriended any of those people.  So, uh, all he knew was that the white people were bad and he was afraid of them and thought they were bad people and so when he captured John Smith and his crew, he was gonna kill him, they were gonna kill them all.  So, supposedly, he was gettin’ ready to cut off John Smith’s head and Pocahontas came up on the scene and rescued them.  Said “Ohh, you can’t!”  She threw her body in front of the hatchet or whatever, the axe, and said, “No, no, no, you can’t do this, you cannot do this!”  And she protected John Smith from her father and from the Indians.  And then… the Indians helped, because of Pocahontas, the Indians helped the white people survive there, for the winter.  And that was the way it was told to me by my parents, and they said we should be so proud cause we were related to her…. and that she did such a huge thing– the beginning of a civilization.”

 

Conclusion:

 

I had obviously heard of Pocahontas before, but I had never heard just a detailed telling of the story like this one I received from my mother’s childhood friend, Mary.  It was very cool to learn that she was a descendant of Pocahontas.  I was a little skeptical of this at first– Mary is white–, but she had proof.  A couple years ago, her son’s biology class went on a field trip to a lab to code for a sequence of DNA that was found in all Asian people.  At the end of the day, her son– who is white– and two other Asian kids were the only people to have the sequence in their DNA.  Surprised, Mary’s son, asked how this could be possible.  He didn’t have any Asian heritage that he knew of.  One of the lab’s scientist asked if had any Native American blood in his family.  The scientist explained that Native Americans originally crossed a land bridge to North America from Asia.  Baffled, Mary’s son told the scientist that his mom had always claimed their family was descendants of the Powhatan tribe.  

 

Three Finger Joe

Nationality: American
Age: 19
Occupation: Student
Residence: Houston, TX
Performance Date: April 5, 2017
Primary Language: English

Subject: Retelling of a Camp Legend

 

Informant: Lauren Herring

 

Background Information/Context: Camp Mystic is an all-girls camp in Hunt, Texas. It was founded in 1926 by a coach at the University of Texas, and it is still an incredibly popular camp today. In fact, the camp is so popular that in order to enroll, your parents have to call the head of the camp and ask to put you down on the wait list no longer than a few weeks after you are born. Ideally, a spot would clear up for you by the time you are the age they accept campers, but this is not always the case. Lauren Herring, from Houston, Texas, was lucky enough to get off the wait list, and has been attending Camp Mystic since for twelve years–the past two years as a camp counselor. So Camp Mystic has been a huge part of her childhood, as she has spent each of these past twelve years attending the camp for one month during the summer. I asked her if she ever had any ghost stories or heard any legends from Camp Mystic, and this was her response:

 

“I don’t know who started this story, but it’s kind of always been a big thing at Mystic. So there’s this little shed near Chatter Box, which is one of the cabins. You live in Chatter Box your third year. And there’s this random little shed with a lock on it right next to Chatter Box, and no one knew what it was for, not even the counselors. It was kind of just there. And it was scary looking, like really old and falling down and stuff.

 

So there was a story that there was a man that lived in it, and at night he would come into Chatter Box and scratch your back, but he only had three fingers. You knew he had come into your cabin that night if someone woke up with three scratches on their back.

 

His name was Three Finger Joe. We were all really scared and paranoid, because we were like nine and really completely believed it. And I think some of us would lie for attention or to mess with the rest of us or whatever because people would wake up and be like, ‘Oh my God, I have three fingered scratches on my back!’”

 

I loved hearing this story from Lauren because it reminded me of when I was younger and would listen to similar stories at the camps that I would go to. Growing up, I loved hearing ghost stories, and this one really took me back. I could tell when Lauren was recounting the memory to me that she enjoyed this kind of reminiscing as well.

Egg Ritual

Nationality: American
Age: 24
Occupation: Entrepreneur
Residence: Houston, TX
Performance Date: March 16, 2017
Primary Language: English
Language: Spanish

 

Subject: Ritual, Superstition

 

Informant: Tye Griffith

 

Background Information/Context: Growing up, I had a nanny who helped raise me, and who had been working in my family since before I was born. Her name is Eva, and she is from Monterrey, Mexico. Eva also worked as a nanny for a close family friend of mine, Tye. Tye and I essentially grew up together, and had the connection of Eva, who I feel linked our two families together even closer. Recently, I was remembering how when I was little and my parents would be either out to dinner or on vacation, Eva would stay with me. But when it was my bedtime, Eva had a very specific ritual she would perform while tucking me into bed. I didn’t remember the specific details of the ritual, other than it involved an egg that she would hover over my head and recite some sort of prayer. I reached out to Tye, knowing that Eva had done this same ritual with her when she was also younger.

 

This was Tye’s memory of the egg ritual:

 

Tye: Eva would get an egg from the fridge downstairs and rub the egg in different patterns across the body while saying a bunch of prayers. And then she would crack it into a clear glass and put it under the bed. The egg would stay there all night while you slept, and in the morning, you would check the bowl, and it would be completely black inside the bowl. Like a black goop. Ew, that sounds really gross when you say it out loud [laughs]. But it would be black in the morning because of all the bad spirits that came out of your body during the night.

 

And then you had to throw the egg out onto the street in the morning. The room wouldn’t smell though.

 

Me: Wait, would the whole room not smell like a rotten egg in the morning? [laughs] How is that even possible?

 

Tye: Magic! [laughs].

 

Conclusion: I was happy that Tye remembered a little more about it than I did, and having her tell me what she knew really jogged my memory. I was still curious about what Eva was saying during the ritual, so I thought about it for a while. I finally remembered a line from the prayer she recited: “Padre nuestro, que estás en el cielo.” So, I Googled that one line, and as it turns out, that was the first line to a Spanish prayer called “El Santo Rosario.” I read the prayer online, and it all came back to me. Eva would have me say the prayer every night when she was with me. The whole prayer reads,

 

Padre nuestro, que estás en el cielo,

Santificado sea tu nombre;

Venga a nosotros tu reino;

Hágase tu voluntad en la tierra,

Como en el cielo.

Danos hoy nuestro pan de cada día;

Perdona nuestras ofensas,

Como también nosotros perdonamos a los que ofenden;

No nos dejes caer en la tentación,

Y líbranos del mal.

Amén.[1]

 

The text of this prayer comes from an excerpt from the book Oración del Enfermo. However, in this book, the prayer is referred to as “Padrenuestro,” instead of “El Santo Rosario,” but it is the same text as the Santo Rosario prayer. Upon further reflection, this prayer is actually the Spanish version of The Lord’s Prayer, but I never connected the two, as I did not grow up in a particularly religious household. The only significant religious practices that I grew up with came from Eva, which were all in the Spanish language. I knew of The Lord’s Prayer in English, but I never made the connection until now, because the Spanish version was so much more prevalent in my life.

 

[1] Cadena, Alvaro Jiménez. La Oración del Enfermo: ¡Señor, tu Amigo está Enfermo! Bogotá: Ediciones Paulinas, 1991. Print.