Category Archives: Legends

Narratives about belief.

Protective snake legend/memorate

Age: 21

Text:

We had a land and Romans and Greek people, you know, used to live there. And

my grandpa was saying, like, in our garden, we have,  gold in our garden. They hide the gold before, like, when they’re, escaping from something, you know, like Turkish, when they’re escaping from Turks, like, they hide the gold. there in our garden. Actually, that’s what he says. And also, like, there’s another story that in that land, he says there is a very, very big snake. We call that snake like a mustache snake, that he protects the treasure. He was telling me that he saw that snake. My grandpa was a farmer, and he was doing some farming stuff, and he was in a tractor. And he told me that he saw this snake. He was kind of overreacting, probably, but he told me when they were driving the tractor, one snake jump off the top of the tractor. That’s what he told me, and what he said was, he got a mustache, that snake. And he’s very big. He’s like five, six meters. That’s what he says. Like five meters. And we call, as I said, we call, like a mustache snake. That snake has a mustache, and he protect the treasure. 

Context:

This is a legend told to the informant by his grandfather when he was 12 or 13. It is rooted in the geographical history of Cesme and Alacati, where he is from; the ancient Greeks and Romans did live in the area. In Turkish mythology there is a protective snake deity named Yilan Tanrı, and past peoples having buried treasure is a trope in Turkish legends.  

Analysis:

This legend/memorate has a few functions. It is educational, teaching the informant about the history of the region, and perhaps embeds some Turkish Nationalism; the garden, and by extension the land is valuable because there is gold buried there. The informant’s disbelief in the memorate, saying “that’s what he said, actually” and that his grandpa was probably exaggerating, highlights the partial belief or belief with doubt that lay at the heart of legends. There isn’t a good reference for a snake with a moustache, but the moustache may be a tool the grandfather used to make the story more entertaining for the informant, or a way to make the story his own given the buried treasure and snake are common themes in Turkish legend. 

The Legend of Eze Nri

Story:

Accoring to the Informant, The Nri Kingdom, one of the oldest and most sacred kingdoms in Igbo history, is said to have been founded by a divine ruler blessed by Chukwu (the supreme god). According to legend, Eri, a spiritual figure sent by Chukwu, arrived at Anambra and established a community. His descendants later formed the Nri dynasty, with the Eze Nri (King of Nri) serving as both a political leader and a spiritual intermediary. The Eze Nri was not a conventional ruler but a priest-king, responsible for performing rituals to cleanse the land of abominations (nso ani) and maintain harmony among the Igbo people. He held immense religious influence, and his kingdom was known for its peace, diplomacy, and sacred authority rather than military conquest.

Context:

The informant, an Igbo elder, grew up hearing stories of the Nri Kingdom from their elders. They learned about the legend through oral storytelling, cultural ceremonies, and historical discussions within their community. For them, the legend represents the spiritual depth of Igbo heritage and serves as a reminder of the role of tradition in leadership. They see the story as a way to understand how pre-colonial Igbo society was organized.

My Interpretation:

The Legend of Eze Nri shows how the Igbo people saw leadership as something that needed to be both political and spiritual. The Eze Nri wasn’t just a ruler in the usual sense; he was seen as someone chosen by Chukwu (the supreme god) to maintain balance in both the physical and spiritual worlds. This idea of leadership suggests that it’s not just about making decisions or leading a community, but also about keeping peace with the gods and ancestors.

Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary

Age: 22

Text/Story: “In middle school, we all dared each other to say ‘Bloody Mary’ three times in the mirror. We were too scared to try it alone, so we did it at sleepovers. We thought we’d summon a ghost or maybe just freak each other out. Even though it was a joke, we kind of believed it and it was a huge bonding thing between us.”

Analysis: The Bloody Mary ritual is an urban legend with folkloric roots, typically performed by children or teens. Originally, it was a divination ritual that dared young women to walk a flight of stairs backwards with only a candle and hand mirror in a darkened house. If you saw a figure other than yourself, it was a sign you’d die before getting married (a popular fear at that time). Despite being largely theatrical, it’s a popular choice for social rite of passage: a test of bravery and conformity. In modern times and in modern media, it’s seen as an initiation into friend groups or a scare tactic for bullies. It’s seen as a strong example of how fear and imagination can impact group dynamics and echoes how older superstitions around reflections and spirits have been passed down for generation. It’s not tied to religion but shows how rituals convey deeper psychological and cultural meaning.

Día de Los Reyes Magos (Three Kings Day)

Transcript of Interview with my Informant:

Each year on January 6th, my family celebrates Día de Los Reyes Magos, or Three Kings Day, a tradition with roots in Catholic faith and Hispanic culture. The story goes that Melchor, Gaspar, and Balthasar–guided by the star of Bethlehem–brought gifts to the newborn Jesus. In honor of this event, our family gathers at someone’s home (sometimes mine) and shares a special sweet bread called Rosca de Reyes. The bread is circular, topped with colorful dried fruit, and contains hidden figurines of baby Jesus inside.

During the celebration, each family cuts a slice of the Rosca. If someone finds a figurine inside their piece, they’re “chosen” to host a gathering later in the year–symbolizing both a blessing and a responsibility. It’s a mix of excitement and groaning laughter when someone finds one; some are honored, others jokingly curse their luck.

On the night before, January 5th, children place a shoe near the door or under the Christmas tree, awaiting small gifts from the Three Kings by morning–just as kids do with Santa Claus on Christmas. While we’ve adapted parts of the tradition for our life in the U.S., the essence remains: a celebration of faith, family, and culture that marks both the joy of giving and the hope of a new year.

Context:

My informant first became aware of the significance of Día de Los Reyes Magos as a child, but admitted they didn’t initially recognize it as a distinct or formal “tradition.” Growing up in a Hispanic family in the U.S., the celebration felt like an extension of everyday life–something “normal,” even if classmates or neighbors didn’t understand it. The ritual of gathering around the Rosca and the playful suspense of finding the baby Jesus figurine stood out as moments of connection and community.

Celebrations would rotate between family members’ homes, often becoming larger events when someone “won” the figurine. These gatherings served not just as cultural practice, but also as a form of reunion–bringing relatives together after the holidays for one more festive moment. The act of putting out a shoe for gifts was a quiet, joyful echo of Christmas traditions, but with its own spiritual undertone tied to the biblical Magi.

The informant noted that these rituals, though modest in scale compared to holidays like Christmas, carry a different kind of emotional weight. They blend the sacred with the familial, and even the humorous–like the yearly joking dread of having to host the next party. Though they didn’t see their upbringing as “filled with traditions” at first, reflecting on this holiday made them realize how layered and meaningful these recurring events are.

Analysis:

The Día de Los Reyes Magos tradition functions as a cultural bridge, connecting the informant’s Hispanic heritage with their life in the United States. Like many diasporic traditions, it has been adapted to new social contexts–reshaped by work schedules, school calendars, and community life–yet remains firmly rooted in Catholic ritual and familial bonds.

The act of sharing the Rosca de Reyes and discovering the baby figurine exemplifies how folklore can use food as both a symbolic and functional tool. The bread becomes more than a treat–it’s a ritual object, one that assigns roles (the future host), invites storytelling, and reinforces familial obligations through humor and fate. In this way, the tradition embodies both luck and labor: blessings that come with responsibilities, just as faith comes with commitment.

Furthermore, the informant’s reflection illustrates the invisible ubiquity of folk practices–how traditions can be so woven into daily life that their significance is only recognized when viewed from outside or upon reflection. The use of shoes to receive gifts also echoes other folk traditions (like Dutch Sinterklaas or Saint Nicholas Day), showing the shared human impulse to mythologize generosity and moral reward during midwinter festivals.

Ultimately, this tradition is not just about religious observance. It is about identity–how faith, food, family, and folklore sustain cultural memory and offer moments of grounding and joy in the midst of American life. It’s a celebration not just of the Three Kings, but of the endurance of heritage in a changing world.

Folk Narrative: Ballad Legend – Dance of Zalongo

  1. Text: There is a legendary ballad sung by Greeks across all generations. The ballad is titled Ο Χορός του Ζαλόγγου, or The Dance of Zalongo. Prior to 1821, Greece was still under occupation of the Ottoman Empire. Greek civilians often banded together to rebel against the Ottoman forces, starting small wars from their humble villages against the massive might of the empire. There was an ongoing war between the Ottoman Empire and the region that the small village of Zalongo resided in. During this war effort, all of the male soldiers had to leave the village to fight elsewhere on the offensive. Unfortunately, the village was marched on by Ottoman forces during this time. Left unprotected, the village only contained the women and children who resided there. Knowing their fate was sealed, it is said that the women, along with their children, went to the top of Mount Zalongo, and danced in a circle at its cliff. It is said that the women sang as they danced at the top of the cliff, celebrating as they were chased by the Ottoman forces. Then, one by one, they threw themselves over the edge, committing suicide. The actions of the Zalongo women are percieved as deeply heroic by the Greek people, as the women chose death over slavery. They refused to fall victim to the Ottoman soldiers. Their story is immortalized in the ballad known as The Dance of the Zalongo. Some of its key lyrics include, “The fish cannot live on land, Nor the flower on the sand, And the women of Zalongo Cannot live without freedom.”
  2. Informants Context: My parents raised me on the story of the Zalongo women. As immigrants, my parents had a deep reverence for the history of Greece and its story of independence. Being part of the Greek diaspora, they wanted to keep these stories alive for me and my brother who were being raised in Canada. My father spoke very highly of the legend and my mother was the one who was capable of actually singing the song. I can’t remember the full lyrics, but I know one of the key ones: “Το ψάρι δεν ζει στο νερό, Ούτε το λουλούδι στην άμμο, Και οι γυναίκες του Σουλίου Δεν μπορούν να ζήσουν χωρίς ελευθερία” (“The fish cannot live on land, Nor the flower on the sand, And the women of Zalongo Cannot live without freedom.”) I knew it from a young age and remember being deeply moved, even charged with patriotism every time I heard the song. As a young boy, it made me physically angry when I would hear about how they died. Of course, people can’t say for certain what happened at the top of the cliff. It was a story that was born out of word of mouth between villagers, spreading across Greece. Like all Greeks though, I firmly believe it actually happened as described. I’m sure it wasn’t as straight-forward as the legend makes out, but I believe they danced and sang before the jump. To me, the story epitomizes the Greek spirit of independence, the mantra at the heart of the revolution – freedom over death.
  3. Collectors Interpretation: The ballad of the Dance of Zalongo is a heroic ballad of legend. The strict historical accuracy of the ballad is disputed as there isn’t empirical evidence for what the woman did at the top of the cliff. It is confirmed that they jumped from the cliff and committed suicide. That said, this is what precisely qualifies the story as robust piece of legend. There is dispute about its truth. Since Greeks choose to believe that this legend is true in the face of disputes, it speaks to their values. At the core of the Zalongo ballad is the relationship with death and freedom. Greek people value the concept of personal liberty to so far an extent that they will sacrifice their own lives to maintain it. The culture preaches a disregard for death. Additionally, the fact that the women decided to dance and sing speaks volumes to their own values. It’s a truly non-defeatist attitude. Almost as if to signal to the Ottoman colonizers that they could truly have nothing – not the lives of the women, nor their bodies and by singing, not even their spirits. It’s an act, a story, of deep courageousness and heroism. It reflects the spirit that likely later inspired the 1821 Greek War for Independence, lighting the heart of the nation on fire. As far as I can tell, the Dance of Zalongo represents folklore at its most powerful.

Fields

AGE: 55

Date_of_performance: April 15, 2025/May 9, 2025

Informant Name: (Confidential)

Language: English/Greek

Nationality: Canadian/Greek

Occupation: Lawyer/Entrepreneur

Primary Language: English

Residence: Canada