The Story of Mulian

Background: My informant, CL, grew up in Taiwan, and speaks Mandarin, Hakka, English, Japanese, and Cantonese. Interview conducted in English over FaceTime.

Me: Do you know why Taiwan celebrates Ghost Month?

CL: “There’s a famous story in China regarding ghost month. The story of Mulian. He sees that his mom did a lot of bad things when she was still alive. So after she died she became a starving ghost. Mulian tried to use his powers because he’s a Buddhist, just tries to bring food to his mom because she’s a starving ghost. But whatever he served to her became burning…ashes right away. There was no way for his mom to eat it. He cries out, sees that his mom is tortured, and asks for a blessing from the Buddha. Buddha told him that because his mom did bad things, she has to suffer. Buddha told him that to reduce his mom’s suffering, the only way is to do good things, which is why they started Ghost Month: to worship ghosts, pray, and hopefully they can go to heaven. And finally the mom got released from the devil because Mulian did a lot of good things.

Me: So is Ghost Month just a thing for Buddhists then?

CL: No. Most people in Taiwan are Buddhist, but the Mulian story is famous–when I was a kid, a lot of TV shows talk about it because we didn’t know why we had Ghost Month. It’s about doing good things so your ancestors won’t be punished. In the old times less people could read, most people were farmers. So using drama or live shows let people in the countryside understand the purpose of the story: to do good things so your ancestors won’t be punished.

Me: Are ancestors just for Buddhists?

CL: No, we all have ancestors. Buddhists go to the temple to pray for them, but we still respect ancestors.

Analysis: Although the Mulian story is seemingly grounded in a more institutional presence like Buddhism, from my knowledge Ghost Month is widely celebrated throughout Taiwan regardless of its religious implications, much like Christmas in the US. Ancestor worship goes back to Confucian and perhaps Daoist ideology as well, so there’s a convergence of beliefs and practices at play here. Its structure is very much the classic cautionary tale, that shapes an idea of what “good” behavior would look like, particularly conveyed in an oral retelling to illiterate villagers. It’s clear to see why the story has stuck around, because its narrative progression is logical and points to a fairly universal moral message–respect your elders and ancestors, or else face karmic retribution.

Secret Monkey Lab at the University of Washington

Background: My informant, ET, attended the University of Washington from 2009-2013. I asked her about campus folklore, and this was her response:

ET: “The UDub Health Sciences Building is known for having a secret monkey lab. They conduct experiments on monkeys because it’s closest to humans for different kinds of testing. But there’s a lot of environmental and animal activists in Seattle, so animal activists try to sneak in and free the monkeys from being tested on. Basically, whenever students are in the building, they try to look for a room full of cadavers to find the monkeys.”

Analysis: I think this legend is really interesting because it not only speaks to the history of some of the buildings on campus, but also the student culture and mentality around the school and in the greater part of the city as well. The story plays to the instinct that some college buildings must have mysterious things going on inside them, particularly a room with a bunch of cadavers and no other context, but also the larger activism presence around the area as well, which adds to the realism of the story. Those in the know with this story would feel a greater sense of–if not attachment, at least more curiosity over the ongoings of the university, and develop a school pride as the one that seemingly houses monkeys in a secret lab in a discrete science building.

Waffle House Index

Background: My informant, BT, lived in Birmingham, Alabama, for 8 years. Interview conducted over FaceTime.

Me: “Tell me about any Alabama folklore you know. Unofficial things, stuff you wouldn’t find in a textbook.”

BT: “Well, there’s the Waffle House Index. I first heard about it from a friend while I was at Bama [the University of Alabama]. So Waffle Houses are open 24/7, they never close–“

Me: “Oh wait, can you explain what Waffle House is for people who may be unfamiliar with it?”

BT: “Yes. Waffle House is a restaurant chain in the South that’s like I-HOP but better, in my personal opinion. It’s like your typical diner, fast food chain.”

Me: “Perfect, continue.”

BT: “Right. So Waffle Houses never close, ever, except when a storm is really bad. So meteorologists started realizing that there was a correlation between the severity of a storm and Waffle House closures in the area, and realized they could track storms by Waffle House. If a Waffle House is closed in an area with a storm, then it’s all over. So if a storm is coming and people are thinking about sheltering in place, someone will usually ask, ‘well, is Waffle House closed?’ If it’s not, then the storm’s not severe enough, and you can continue on with your daily life.”

Analysis: I find the cultural significance of Waffle House to be interesting in this folk belief. Rather than trusting an institution like the National Weather Service, there’s a greater priority and belief in the knowledge of a local chain like Waffle House. Although Waffle House is a regional chain restaurant, the individual management and function of individual restaurants likely contributes to their reputation as feeling more “local” compared to a nationalized weather service. As a gathering place that is consistent and dependable in hours, the ironic trust in Waffle House over any other means to informally gauge weather is humorous of course, but also says a lot about regionalized trust and identity.

Haunted Pike Place Market

Background: My informant, ET, attended the University of Washington from 2009-2013. I asked her about campus/Seattle folklore, and this was her response:

ET: “Pike Place is supposedly haunted. My freshman RA thought it would be fun for the floor to go on a haunted Pike Place Market tour. But apparently people have like, died, at Pike Place Market. They accidentally slipped on the ground with the fish and everything, because you know how they throw the fish around, so there’s apparently lots of haunted fish mongers, and you would see them walking around after the markets closed.”

Me: “Do you feel like Pike Place is haunted?”

ET: “Me? I only go during the day so I hope not, but I also wouldn’t be surprised since it’s so old. It’s also close to the Seattle Underground tour, and people say that place is haunted too, so yeah, maybe it’s just a downtown Seattle thing.”

Analysis: I love a good ghost story. Having been to Pike Place myself, I can confirm that all the traditions–the fish toss across the market every half an hour or so–could naturally progress into ghost stories too. With all of the history and bustle in the market, it seems natural that a place with that reputation would naturally have a few ghost stories as well–it seems entirely plausible that a fish monger in the process of throwing a raw fish across the market died while slipping on the floor. People primarily go to Pike Place for the market itself, but I think the existence of ghost stories like this one once again offer room for multiplicity and variation–I’m sure each fish stall at Pike Place likely has their own variation on this story depending on their brand–but also invites tourists and other visitors to be in the in-group in a location that would otherwise seem like a one-dimensional farmer’s market.

Nashville Hot Chicken Origin Story

Background: My informant, HT, is currently a student at Vanderbilt University. Interview conducted over FaceTime.

Me: “Tell me about the story behind Nashville hot chicken.”

HT: “Okay. So the story of Nashville hot chicken is that there was like a guy, a husband, who was asking his wife to make him fried chicken. But she found out that he was cheating on her, so she was super pissed. She was like, I’m gonna make his fried chicken but spike it with spicy shit, hot peppers. He eats it and is like yo that’s like straight fire. Nashville has a lot of local hot chicken chains like Hattie B’s. But the real hot chicken is not in the chains.”

Me: “Who did you hear this story from?”

HT: “I heard it from my supervisor at the library who’s a Nashville native.”

Me: Do you think the story is real?

HT: Yeah, I mean it makes sense. Plus I trust my supervisor, especially because they’re a Nashville native. That’s like finding a unicorn here.

Analysis: I think the Nashville Hot Chicken story is the perfect example of a legend with room for multiplicity and variation. It’s an entirely logical and plausible story, but I can also see how it could easily be re-told with infinitely small twists and tweaks that would cater to whichever audience it was being told to. As far as food goes, the scenario is extremely common, similar to the creation of fries (I believe potatoes were unintentionally deep fried to the unexpected delight of the customer), which echoes many of the same themes as this story. The way it was also passed through word of mouth to my informant very much makes it a performance, and not institutionalized, particularly through the prevalence of hot chicken outside of chain restaurants as well.