“Más vale pájaro en mano que cientos volando”

Nationality: Colombian
Occupation: Catholic missionary
Performance Date: 4/26/17
Primary Language: English
Language: Spanish

The following is from an interview between me and my friend, Carlos, at Blaze Pizza. Carlos is a Catholic missionary from Colombia. We were joined, as well, by another missionary named Nicole. Carlos shared with me some Spanish proverbs. This is one of them.

Carlos: “In Spanish, it’s, ‘Más vale pájaro en mano que cientos volando’. What that means is that, ‘A bird in your hand is worth more than a hundred birds flying away.’

Me: “Oh, okay, so kind of like ‘A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush’?”

Carlos: “I guess. I’ve never heard of that, but… (Laughs). Yeah, but I think I know… if it means what I think it means then yes.”

Nicole: “What does that mean?”

Carlos: “It means that, like, it’s better to have one solid thing than to have, like, many things kind of up in the air.”

Me: “Yeah that’s like ‘Bird in the hand is worth two in the bush’. Uh, and where did you hear that from?”

Carlos: “Uh, my mom. We just say it all the time. And my parents just say it like, yeah.”

I was immediately struck by the fact that Spanish and English have two proverbs that are so similar to each other. It is interesting that the Spanish one is more embellished with its one-hundred instead of two birds, as well as the fact that the birds are instead flying away, and just out of the person in question’s reach, whereas in the English proverb the birds are concealed from sight by the bush.

Whoppers

Nationality: USA
Occupation: Catholic missionary
Performance Date: 4/26/17
Primary Language: English

The following is from an interview between me and my friend, Brie, while I walked with her to the grocery store. She told me about a tradition in her family of telling stories called “Whoppers”, which were kind of like campfire stories. Her grandfather, or “papa”, was the one to mainly uphold this tradition within the family.

Brie: “In my family we always told ‘Whoppers’, so we’d always tell, like, stories around the campfire.”

Me: “‘Whoppers’, it was called?”

Brie: “Whoppers. And basically they’re just not true stories. And… he was really good at that, my papa…”

Me: “Can you give me an example of a Whopper?”

Brie: “The Green Monster…”

Me: “The what?”

Brie: “He would always say, like, The Green— or, what was it…? The Shadow… my papa would do this voice, like (raspy), ‘The Shadow,’ and it was like… I’m trying to remember. It was just terrifying. But… hold on, let me think real quick…”

Me: “How do you spell ‘Whopper’?”

Brie: “‘Whopper’? Um– I think, like a– you know, like a ‘Double Whopper’.”

Me: “Oh ok, like Burger King?”

Brie: (Laughs very hard) “Yep. No, it was just a thing in my family, telling Whoppers. I never was good at it, but my cousins would come up with really good Whoppers.”

Me: “Do you know where–uh– where your grandfather got, like, the term ‘Whopper’ from? Did he just make that up or what was it?”

Brie: “So he grew up in, like, South Boston… one of eight kids, and… you know, Scotch family, Catholic, um… he… I don’t– I think it was his dad that began the Whoppers.”

Me: “What made a good Whopper?”

Brie: “A good Whopper was, like, got you on the edge of your seat, like… you know, it was kinda scary, kinda suspenseful, but also, like, funny and far-fetched. So a little of, like, all of that, kinda.”

It was really cool to see that, basically, just by assigning a name to the more general idea of campfire stories, Brie’s family created a kind of tradition that was all their own.

Virgin Mary Miracle on the Moon

Nationality: Mexican-American
Performance Date: 4/26/17
Primary Language: English

The following is an interview between me and of friend of mine, Anthony, over at the Caruso Catholic Center. He was getting ready to help host an event, but said he had a few minutes to talk about some folklore that he remembered from his childhood.

Anthony: “I remember… there was a–um– I don’t know if this qualifies, but, I remember in the… I think it was the 80’s or early 90’s… there was this–um– what people were saying The Virgin Mary was doing a miracle on the moon– with the moon, and that it was kind of like glowing or something like that– when I was a kid, yeah this was a thing, it was on the news and stuff like that. You might be able to find something about that.”

Me: “Do you know, like, what the significance of that was? Um– who did you hear it from?”

Anthony: “Well, like, I remember, um– people were going outside, uh, I don’t know if it was… if we were at church or whatever, but, um, people were like.. I think that we were at church, and they… in the evening…”

Me: “It was a Catholic Church?”

Anthony: “Yeah. And people were going outside to try to see if they could see it. ‘Cuz there were reports that… The Virgin Mary was… doing a miracle (laughs).”

Me: “Did anybody you know ever claim to have seen her?”

Anthony: “Um… it’s– I feel like like some people in the group, you know, I felt like, if I squinted I was like, ‘I think I see it!’ but I don’t know if as a kid I was trying to see it I was like, ‘I think I see it,’ you know, I didn’t really know.”

Me: “Did it give you any kind of, like, good luck or anything… to see it?”

Anthony: “You know, sometimes when I see the moon I’ll do the same thing, like… (squints and points) what, was that just it again?! Or is it just, you know, or is it more my eyes doin’ somethin’ weird. Um– But, I don’t know, that was an instance when I remember something kinda out of the ordinary.”

I thought it was interesting to see this report going around Anthony’s neighborhood as one of those things that sort of creates competition amongst children’s friend groups; where, if you saw this certain thing, it almost means that you’re special, or somehow attuned to the supernatural. Regardless of whether or not some kind of miracle was happening on the moon, the real folk activity happening is this competition of who can actually see her. Additionally, since the moon is so far away, it provides enough ambiguity for these children to say whatever they want, and no one can really prove them otherwise, especially since the rumor was shared and made socially credible by every individual who had seen the news report.

 

 

Mexican Cure for Hiccups

Nationality: Mexican-American
Performance Date: 4/26/17
Primary Language: English

The following is an interview between me and of friend of mine, Anthony, over at the Caruso Catholic Center. He was getting ready to help host an event, but said he had a few minutes to talk about some folklore that he remembered was passed down through his family.

Anthony: “Um– Growing up… if we got, um, the hiccups… my mom would put a paper bag down my shirt.”

Me: “A paper bag?”

Anthony: “Yes, a paper bag. This was like, some kind of folklore passed down… kind of, like, I mean it’s– it’s like, you know, from her… from my great aunt, you know, they used to do it and they used to… it was something they did– it was, it was a Mexican thing, you know, like, ‘This is gonna fix it’ kind of a thing.'”

Me: “Oh, okay, so it was– it was a Mexican thing?”

Anthony: “Yes! it was, it was like, ‘Oh, hiccups! You gotta put a paper bag down your… down your shirt.’ It’s bizarre, but that’s… that’s what we used to do. It was like a family folk kind of thing.”

I have to agree with Anthony about this one being bizarre. I just found it fascinating how non-intuitive this specific cure was. I would have never thought of paper bags curing hiccups.

The Cuco (Puerto Rican Legend)

Nationality: Puerto Rican
Occupation: Student Worker
Performance Date: 4/24/17
Primary Language: English

The following is an interview that took place between me and my co-worker, Danielle, during our night shift at the School of Cinematic Arts Operations desk:

Danielle: “The Cuco is a Puerto Rican legend that basically, when a child misbehaves, the Cuco lives somewhere in the house or… in the surrounding area, and it’s basically, ‘if you don’t do what I say, the Cuco’s gonna get you.’ And it’s… like,  shapeless, and it’s whatever the child imagines it to be– to maximize the fear, and for them to do whatever it is that you want them to do.”

Me: “So, why do you know or like this piece?”

Danielle: “I know it because–um– a few years ago my friend… said it to her younger cousin–um–she, like, brought her cousin to my house and the little girl wasn’t listening, and my friend was like, ‘You have to listen to me or the Cuco’s gonna get you!’ And I was like, ‘What are you talking about?’ and my grandma from upstairs, like– heard it and, like, perked up and she was like, ‘What are you talking about?’ and my friend was like, ‘The Cuco.” My grandma was like, ‘Don’t say that in my house!” And I said, ‘Well do you know what this is?’ and my grandma was like, ‘Yeah, like, it’s a monster that my–,” –her mother had frightened her with, and so she promised herself she would never tell her kids about it. And so the first time we had heard it was because my friend used it–um– and my grandma was kind of upset. Uh, but that’s also kind of why I like it is because… I found it funny (laughs) that my grandma was personally offended to hear the name under her roof.”

Me: “That’s really cool. And, did you say you were from Puerto Rico?”

Danielle: “I’m from New York, my grandma’s from Puerto Rico. But, my heritage is Puerto Rican.”

I found it really interesting how individually Danielle, her friend, and her grandmother each had different ways of looking at how the Cuco affects people. Danielle’s friend used it as a means to babysit her cousin, while her grandmother sought to abandon the legend in how she raised her children because of whatever negative effects it had on her childhood. On the other hand, Danielle saw the Cuco as amusing, and a fun way to get to know her family’s, and more specifically her grandmother’s, view of their heritage.