Category Archives: Life cycle

“The Mothman” (memorate)

“When I was a kid my dad used to warn me about this thing called the ‘Mothman’, he’d tell me a story about kids that went out at night alone and we’re snatched up by a half man, half moth creature.”

My informant has never met anyone else who grew up with this narrative, but she stressed to me that kids shouldn’t go out alone or else “he’d get ya.”

“If you see red glowing eyes in the dark, then you’d better run, that’s a warning he’s there.”

Her father would tell her this as an encouragement to not wonder off alone as a child, especially when the sun went down. “I was such a little shit back then” she told me. Her dad was never sure what antics she would get up to, so he stressed this story to her in order to prevent any runaway thoughts.

As opposed to telling her about the true dangers of wandering off alone in the night, he instead decided to tell her about a make believe creature. I find this interesting cause the reality of what could happen is just as scary, if not more frightening then a “moth man” (in my opinion), but I also agree that these kinds of narratives, ones with outlandish concepts, are more effective than ones rooted in reality with children.

“Bowling in Heaven” (memorate)

by Grace Robinson

“When I was little, I was really scared of thunder storms and [my] Grandma would always tell me that the sound of the thunder was actually the sound of people bowling in heaven, -and after she told me that story enough I wasn’t scared of them anymore.”

My informant spoke with great passion about this short narrative that was replayed to her many times as a child. She told me her grandmother was very Christian, so she thought that claiming that the loud thunder was actually the result of heaven-dwellers indulging in a carefree recreation, would ease by fear. Her grandmother was ultimately right, as the reminder soothed her anxieties over thunder storms, having grown up in such a religious household, the familiarity to religion from the group she was raised with aided her, even though she doesn’t claim to be especially religious herself.

I also find it interesting that while I would still classify this short narrative as a memorate, since it pertains to a personal experience, it also shares many traits with that of ‘myths’. It is essentially a kind of creation story for a universal truth, seeing as folk everywhere hear thunder. It’s a sacred narrative about how something came to be (the thunder deriving from something holy), and it doesn’t take place in the real world (i.e. Heaven). So while I wouldn’t quite classify this piece as a myth, due to what I believe to be a small reach, it definitely seems to share its qualities.

“Hand Licker” (memorate)

“[In first grade] there was this scary story that [my classmates and I] would tell each other on the way to school – it was about this marries couple of homeowners with their dog who would always hear weird noises at night, so they’d stick their hands under the bed and let the dog lick it to make sure it was okay. One night when they heard an extra weird noise, the wife stuck her hand under the bed, and the dog licked it, but then they heard the noise again so the husband went to check it out and it was their dog locked out of the room, while something under the bed was still licking the wife’s hand.”

I asked my informant who it ended up being under the bed.

“Some guy who broke in.” she told me.

She said that the story was brought up by a classmate one day and spread through her grade level swiftly, many of her fellow first graders marveled by the disturbing narrative.

“It was mostly just entertaining to us.”

Though I don’t doubt for a second that children will pass around vulgar stories for the sake of entertainment or “shock factor”, I believe that this story can also be viewed as a warning against blind trust. Although the couple always heard the strange noises, they never investigated the cause of the news and therefore were late to catch the creepy man who hid under their bed at night.

The Pineapple Story

Text: The Pineapple Story (Filipino Myth)

Context: My informant told me that the story is of a mother and daughter living together. The daughter Pina was very lazy. One day, the mom was busy doing work outside their house. She asked Pina to cook lunch for both of them. When Pina went to do so, she had to ask her mother where things were. every time she needed something, she didn’t know where it was in their own kitchen. After that, the mother became annoyed and wished her daughter had a lot of eyes like a pineapple. That way, her daughter would at least know where everything is. The next day, the mother noticed a pineapple had grown outside their house. She also noticed her daughter was missing. Then she remembered what she said and realized the pineapple was her daughter.

She interprets this story as a lesson to be more hardworking, and to be less lazy because it is important to contribute to helping your family. This story is something that she’s told to her own children and has heard it from her own family. 

Analysis: 

This Filipino folklore is a tale and myth. As it is a story that does not really get questioned, because a girl did not really turn into a pineapple. But it is also a myth because it gives an easier reason to understand that children should respect their parents and their elders. 

It is a family story with a lesson and a punishment. With the context provided by my informant, it does not seem to be something to believe that pineapples really come from a mother wishing that her daughter would become a fruit. But rather as a tale to respect your elders and to work harder. The daughter was very lazy and disrespectful to her mother. And as a result she was cursed, or in other words it was her punishment. Filipino culture and Asian cultures in general tend to have a heavy focus on respecting their elders. There are a lot of customs and polite actions and mannerisms in place for the young to pay respects to the previous generations.

Mawssim (season) Fantasia Festival

Text:

“One of my best childhood memories was the Mawssim (season) Fantasia Festival. I used to go with my dad to the country side of Larache in the spring to attend one of the most fascinating cultural festival where men would ride Arabian horses very fast at the same speed and shout in synchrony old traditional riffles in the air at the same time and in the same line while professional females dancers performed cultural dances and sing at the same time in two straight lines dancing in front of each others back and forth. After the show finished, they would bring and serve a festive meals in each tent where guests sat around tables on the floor on top of colorful hand made carpets and beautiful pillows.”

Analysis:

This festival has two lines of, I assume, male individuals and two lines of female individuals. The spring time represents rebirth, fertility, and new beginnings. The dances with the race represent this concept, along with a subtle hint of courtship. In addition, this event brings numerous crowds of people from different places. Viewing dance and this festive horse display could facilitate connections with others that otherwise wouldn’t have much in common. After some research, the Fantasia festival represents the connection between masculinity, horses and warfare. It has Amazigh origins of men fighting on the backs of horses. The Amazigh are the indigenous people of Morocco, and they are more largely nomads of North Africa (Algeria, Tunisia etc). My grandpa (Amal’s father) was very proud of his Amazigh heritage, and being a part of the Mesmouda tribe – one of the largest and last tribes in Morocco. They do not have a nation-state but they still do have a sense of collective identity that is more fluid. My family had to convert their last names from Mesmoudi to Abdelkhalek because the government was scared of them overthrowing the Arab ruled government again that is largely Islamic (they do not have a set religion). On numerous occasions they demanded him to say that he is an Arab but he refused. He then said to my mom that even if the King has a sword to your throat and tells you to say that you are someone you are not (Arab), never succumb and be proud of who you are (Amazigh). My mom told me a variation of this without the Arab-Amazigh connotation where it is more like “even if the King has a sword to your throat, always stand up for what is right and what you believe in”. Even though I haven’t participated in any Moroccan festivals, the Amazigh warrior mentality has been passed down to me.