Tag Archives: tale

Auntie Cockroach and Mr. Mouse

Nationality: American
Age: 20
Occupation: student
Residence: Los Angeles
Performance Date: April 30, 2013
Primary Language: English
Language: Farsi

Once upon a time under the beautiful blue sky there lived a cockroach named Khale Suske. She had become tired of being alone and thought it would be nice to come out of her nest and see the world. She got up and made a pair of red shoes for herself out of garlic skin. She put on clothes made of onion skin. With a glance and a wink she left her nest. She walked and walked and walked until she arrived at the grocer’s shop. The grocer was sitting behind his scale. As soon he saw Khale Suske he asked,
“Khale Suske, where are you going?”
Khale suske replied, “What is Khale Suske? I am better than a flower.”
“Who is Khale Suske? I have such delicate wings.”
Surprised the grocer said,
“Then what should I say?”
Khale Suske said, “Say something nice. Say, ‘Khale Suske: Red Shoes, Onion Clothes.
Where are you going?’”
So the grocer said, “Khale Suske Red Shoes, Onion Clothes. Where are you going?”
Khale Suske said, “I am going to Hamedan, I want to find a husband for Ramezan
I should eat wheat bread and not be a bother to anyone.”
The grocer said, “Khale Suske, Red Shoes. Will you become my wife? Will you become my beautiful bride?”
Khale Suske said, “If I become your wife, If I become your companion. When we argue, what will you hit me with?”
The grocer said, “With this stone weight from my scale!”
Khale Suske said, “No no no! I will not become the grocer’s wife If I do, I will be killed!”
She said this, tightened her scarf and continued on her journey. She walked and walked and walked until she arrived at the door of the quiltmaker. The quiltmaker was stirring cotton with a long wooden stick to bring out dirt and sand from the cotton, and with the clean, soft cotton he would make beautiful quilts. As soon as he saw Khale Suske he said, “Khale Suske, where are you going?”
Khale suske replied,
“What is Khale Suske? I am better than a flower.”
“Who is Khale Suske? I have such delicate wings.”
The quiltmaker said, “Then what should I say?”
Khale Suske said, “Say something nice. Say, ‘Khale Suske Red Shoes, Onion Clothes
Where are you going?’”
So the quiltmaker said, “Khale Suske Red Shoes, Onion Clothes Where are you going?”
Khale Suske said, “I am going to Hamedan, I want to find a husband for Ramezan I should eat wheat bread and not be a bother to anyone.”
The quiltmaker said, “Khale Suske Red Shoes. Will you become my wife? Will you become my beautiful bride?”
Khale Suske said, “If I become your wife, if I become your companion, when we argue, what will you hit me with?”
The quiltmaker said, “with my cotton stirring stick!”
Khale Suske said, “no no no! I will not become the quiltmaker’s wife! If I do, I will be killed!” She said this, tightened her scarf and quickly hurried on her way. She walked and walked and walked until she arrived at the palace where Mr. Mouse lived. He was a clean and tidy mouse that had a small but beautiful nest in the prince’s kitchen. Mr. Mouse’s little ears were white. His tiny eyes sparkled, and he was wagging his soft, little tail. Mr. Mouse was in the middle of taking wheat to his nest so that he would be comfortable during the cold winter. As soon as he saw
Khale Suske he politely moved closer, greeted her and said,
“My my my!
Red Shoes, Onion Clothes
Where are you going?”
Khale Suske was very pleased by the polite and sweet words of Mr. Mouse. She said coyly,
“I am going to Hamedan,
I want to find a husband for Ramezan
I should eat wheat bread and not be a bother to anyone.”
Mr. Mouse said,
“Khale Qeizi
Miss Red Shoes
Will you become my wife?
Will you become my beautiful bride?”
Khale Suske said,
“Why shouldn’t I?
However, If I become your wife,
If I become your companion
When we argue, what will you hit me with?”
Mr. Mouse said,
“But no! Why should we argue?
If you become my wife,
If you become my companion,
I will caress you with my soft little tail!”
Khale Suske, who was very impressed by the little mouse, smiled and said,
“Yes yes yes!
I will become your wife
I will become your companion
I will become the mother of your children
I will become your loyal spouse!”
Khale Suske and Mr. Mouse threw a grand wedding party. They invited all the Cockroaches and Mice of the prince’s castle. Late at night, they all went to the kitchen. All brought delicious food and the mice found several walnut and pistachio shells to use as drums. It was a splendid celebration! The mice played their instruments and the roaches opened their wings and danced. The party went on until sunrise. Afterwards, Mr. Mouse took Khale Suske to his nest and they started their lives together. In the morning, when the cooks came to the kitchen, none of them knew what had gone on the night before. During the day, Mr. Mouse would go to the kitchen and pick-up the rice, beans, chick-peas, and other things that the cooks would drop, and he would bring them back to their nest with his teeth. Khale Suske would clean house, and prepare breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and they would always eat together. One day, Khale Suske went to a riverbank near the palace so she could wash her clothes. Suddenly she
slipped and fell into the water. She screamed and began to splash about so she wouldn’t drown. At the same time, one of the prince’s horsemen was passing by and stopped to give his horse water. As soon as Khale Suske’s eyes fell upon him she yelled,
“Ahoy horseman! Horseman!
Because you are going to the castle
Tell Mr. Mouse,
Khale Suske is in the water
Red Shoes is in the water
If you arrive late she will die!
Your heart will become sad!”
The horseman looked up, he didn’t see anyone. He looked down, he
didn’t see anyone. He listened again and he heard a tiny and quiet
voice say,
“Ahoy horseman!
Horseman!
Because you are going to the castle
Tell Mr. Mouse,
Khale Suske is in the water
Red Shoes is in the water
If you arrive late she will die!
Your heart will become sad!”
The rider quickly mounted his horse and rode away. He arrived out of breath at the kitchen and told the story to the others. Everyone laughed at him. Mr. Mouse was in a corner of the room and heard everything. He turned pale and dropped everything he had in his hands. His little tail was shaking like a willow tree. He threw his hands to his head and cried,
“Ay Vay! The water is taking away my Khale Suske!”
Upset, he ran and ran. He ran fast like the wind! He ran and ran and ran until he arrived next to the stream. As soon as he saw Khale Suske his body shook even more. Very upset he said,
“Give your hand to me!
Come up out of the muck!”

Khale Suske replied,
“No no no!
My delicate crystal hand will break!”
Mr. Mouse said,
“Give your foot to me!
Come up out of the muck!”
Khale Suske replied,
“No no no!
My delicate crystal foot will break!”
Mr. Mouse said,
“Then what should I do?
What can I do?
It’s not possible for me to save you!”
Khale Suske told Mr. Mouse,
“Go to the green grocer. Get a carrot.
Nibble it to make stairs. Then
bring it here and put it in the water so
that, step by step, I can up out
of danger!”
Mr. Mouse ran to the green grocer and said,
“My Khale Suske is in the water!
My little Red Shoes is in the water!
If I arrive late, she will die!
My heart will become sad!”
He then asked for a large carrot so that he could make a ladder. The green grocer was very distressed by Mr. Mouse’s story and right away he separated a long and straight carrot and gave it to the little mouse. Mr. Mouse ran as fast as he could back towards the stream. He ran and ran and ran until he arrived next to the water. He quickly nibbled the carrot to make stairs. He then placed it in the water. Khale Suske struggled and very slowly she walked up the carrot ladder and then fell on the ground. Poor Khale Suske was soaking wet. She was coughing non-stop and shivering. Mr. Mouse dried the water on Khale Suske’s body with his soft tail. Then he took her to his nest and placed her in a warm and
soft bed. He covered her face and said,
“Now that you are not
feeling well, I will
prepare you a hot soup!”
As soon as Khale Suske fell asleep, Mr. Mouse left the nest. He ran and ran and ran until he arrived at the door of the grocer. Mr. Mouse told him what had happened and explained that he wanted to prepare hot soup for Khale Suske. The grocer gave him a spinach leaf, a leek stalk, and a bunch of parsley, a small spoon of olive oil, a spoonful of rice, four lentils, some peas, and a pinch of salt. Mr. Mouse thanked him and returned home. He poured everything into a small pot. He then placed two rocks together to make an oven. He picked up a small, dry branch that had fallen on the ground and with his small, sharp teeth, chopped it and placed it between the rocks. He lit the wood and placed the pot of soup on the oven. A short time had passed and he said to himself, “Now I must stir the
pot”. He picked up a small branch to stir it, but as soon he put his head over the pot, he slipped and fell into the soup. Khale Suske realized a long time
had passed since she had heard from Mr. Mouse. With a trembling voice she said,
“Mr. Mouse, my dear
Come sit next to me”
Mr. Mouse didn’t reply. Again she said,
“Mr. Mouse, my dear
Come sit next to me”
Again there was nothing. She became worried. She got up and slowly walked to the soup. When Khale Suske saw Mr. Mouse splashing about she threw her hands to her head and cried,
“Vay! Look at my Mr. Mouse!
One head, two little ears! Look!
Don’t let him die!
My heart would become sad!”
Then, she quickly poured a small dish of water that was next to the oven on the soup to cool it. Next, she went to the neighbor mice and cockroaches nests for help. The mice and cockroaches came and lifted the pot from the
stove. Then, they pulled Mr. Mouse out of the soup. The neighbors then ran and brought whatever food and remedies they had, and for several days they took care of Khale Suske and Mr. Mouse until they both were well. Mr. Mouse and Khale Suske knew what kind of great friends they had and they lived happily ever after.

This story, like the kids version that Arya heard during his bedtime, exalts the virtues of generosity and compassion, especially in the end when the neighbors (mice and cockroaches) band together to help Mr. Mouse. The grocer also gives Mr. Mouse a carrot and vegetables to make the broth with. However, this version which can be found online as a PDF at http://www.lohrasb.com/images/Khale_Suske.pdf, also brings up the issue of women’s rights and issues. At the beginning, Khale Suske goes around to each suitor and asks them what they will beat her with during arguments, for her, a beating is to be expected from her husband and the only thing she can do to improve her living situation is to choose the husband who would beat her with the least harmful item.

Khale Suske is mentioned in the Oral Literature of Iranian Languages: Kurdish, Pashto, Balochi, Ossetic; Persian and Tajik: Companion Volume II: History of Persian Literature A, Vol XVIII.

Abu khan Ki Bakri

Nationality: Indian
Age: 68
Occupation: Electrical Engineer
Residence: Carlisle, MA
Performance Date: 3/19/2013
Primary Language: English
Language: Gujarati, Hindi, Sanskrit, Urdu, French

Informant Bio: Informant is my father.  He was born in Mumbai, India and moved to the U.S . when he was 22.  He still remembers many of the poems and songs from his childhood.  He is fluent in over five languages and recounts a translated tale below.

 

Context: I was interviewing the informant about childhood traditions, rituals, songs sung and tales performed.

 

Item: “Abukhan was an old, lonely man living in the village of “Almoda” in the foothills of the Himalaya Mountains

He would keep one or two goats at a time and spend his time walking with them around the village and farmland.

At night, he would tie the goats with a rope in his yard.

One after the other, in matter of days he would lose the goats as they would run away into the mountain and be killed by a coyote.

Finally, he got tired and decided, no more goats! I will spend the rest of my life without any goat, he thought.

A few days passed and he was very sad and lonely without the goats.

Yes, he went and bought a very pretty little goat and named her “Chandni” (meaning “moonlight”).

He thought if he gave her nice feed and grains and showered her with lots of attention, this one won’t run away.

But sometimes he felt that the goat was getting bored. Time to make her life more interesting.

He thought and thought and then decided to move her from his small yard to his much larger fenced-in farm. There he would tie her with a long rope. She had much larger area to run around in and it was safe.

Chandni seemed happy with this greater freedom seemed to have bonded with the old man

They bonded so well that they could as if talk and understand each other like human beings. Abukhan was really happy that this goat was a keeper and would never run away.

More time passed and Abukhan slowly realized that Chandani was showing fresh signs of boredom.

Secretly she was longing to go up the mountain. He knew this because he had seen her gazing in that direction for hours. She was definitely more restless.

And then she started eating less and less. She wasn’t happy to be confined in that farm – as big as it was, it was no longer big enough for her…

She was all grown up and wanted to explore the world – that mountain -seemed as if it was beckoning her

All of a sudden the rope around her neck felt like a noose. She’d gaze at the top of the mountain and think the air there must be so fresh, the scenery from there… the greenery around there…  the smell of freedom and here I am confined in this small, pitiful little farm… Yes, Abukhan is nice to me but mountain is calling and I have heard the call now…

She kept looking at the mountain all the time. She was smitten. Nothing else would make her happy.

This went on for a while. Abu was very unhappy. Chandni was very unhappy.

Abu talked to Chandni everyday telling her that it is not a good idea to go to the mountain. There are dangers and a certain death. What more can I do to make you happy? Longer rope? Better feed?

Nothing seemed to work. Finally, Abu told her, if you go to the mountain, coyote will surely kill you. How are you going to fight him?

Chandni showed her horns and said these… these will fight the coyote…they have grown in the past few years and I am strong…

Abu said your horns are no match for the coyote. I just can’t let you do this.

Abu said to himself, this is it. Chandni must not be kept here in this field. It is time she is put in the cabin on the farm with the door locked.

That afternoon Chandni was taken to the cabin and the door was shut and locked.

Little did he realize that the back window of the cabin was wide open. Well, that was the opportunity Chandni was waiting for.

Night fell and Chandni escaped running straight to the mountain.

She reached there and the smell of freedom… Her beloved mountain… she was finally there… all that greenery.. So much to eat… so much to see… so much to enjoy..

She enjoyed herself beyond her wildest dreams. Ever so slowly heading towards the top of the mountain. She had enjoyed a few days of freedom.

She was re-invigorated, she felt young again and there she met a herd of other mountain goats. They welcomed her in their herd. They roamed together for a while. A male goat even showed some interest in beautiful Chandani, even she felt the attraction. But she didn’t want to jeopardize her freedom being tied to a life in a herd with other goats.

She was a true free spirit. There was no time for emotional attachment. She had to go her own way wherever her heart was leading her – to the top of the mountain.

But Chandani was a smart goat. In her new found life, she was still ever so vigilant of the coyote. Goats in the herd didn’t have to remind her. The encounter was destined to happen at any moment.

And came the dusk. Cool breeze felt ever so pleasant on the skin. In the valley she could see the village and Abu Khan’s hut, his yard, the farm and the cottage. It looked wonderful from far away…

In the distance, she even could hear Abu’s pleas for her to return home. For a moment, she felt maybe she should return, but then she remembered the rope, slavery, dependency and her life there – may be more comfortable, but certainly not as sweet as this freedom. Whatever the price – she couldn’t – she wouldn’t give up her newly found freedom

She is deep in thoughts as she heard some noise in the leaves behind her… yes, coyote was closing in on her… Should I run down the mountain and back to loving Abu Khan or face this deadly encounter!!

The decision was made in a split second. She chose to fight and die rather than live in comfort of Abu’s home and rope tied around her neck

She saw the coyotes shiny eyes in the darkness. There was no other option left. Coyote gave her a look as if saying, Oh, here we go again. This one looks like Abu’s well-cared for goat. They have all been special and delicious and such easy kill…

Chandani kept her head down, straightened her horns and in a split second charged straight to the coyote at lightening speed and bam!! Smack into him…

Coyote didn’t expect this, he had never been attacked like this before by a goat! Yes, this was an attack…

He was truly taken aback. In a moment, he regained his balance and composure and the fight was on..

As the fight went on, Chandani was gradually losing ground, but earned a healthy respect of her opponent. Coyote has never had to work so hard to overwhelm a goat prey.

Chandni was bloodied but kept on fighting. The dance of death went on into late night. Stars were disappearing one by one in the sky. Dawn was about to break thru.

She was taking her last breaths. She fell to the ground. A moment more and it was going to be over. Million thoughts raced thru Chandni’s mind. It was over… Ground was bloodied… Chandni had taken her last breath but in freedom. Fully aware of this outcome as the final price. She did have a smile on her face as she lay dead.

Up on the tree, a whole group of birds were watching this fight almost since it started. Coyote won the general consensus declared. Said “No” an old bird, “Chandni is the winner here.”

 

Analysis: This tale came to popularity during the time of British occupation of India.  It is a tale describing that for the self-aware, freedom must be the ultimate goal.  No matter how nice the accommodations are under the oppressor, one will always wonder and always be drawn to freedom.  The desire of the sheep to fight against the coyote despite knowing the eventual outcome shows that freedom is worth any cost, even one’s life.  The initial surprise of the coyote at the attack from the seemingly week sheep parallels what colonizing countries exhibit in the face of a rebelling colony.  The coyote, or colonizing country exhibits judgment and prejudice against the subject, much like colonizing countries do of their subjects.  This idea of resorting to fighting was not held by all in India.  The famous Mohandas Gandhi advocated nonviolence and an approach of demonstration and sacrifice to show commitment and enact change.  Obviously in the animal world, in which you are either a predator or you are prey, these issues have to be simplified, as they are in this tale.

 

Note: This tale is also recounted in the publication Abu khan ki bakri dusri kahaniyan by Zakir Hussain.

“The Disobedient Frog”

Nationality: Korean
Age: 21
Occupation: Student
Residence: Los Angeles
Performance Date: April 9, 2013
Primary Language: English
Language: Korean

“This story was a bedtime story that my grandma used to tell me sometimes when I was a child, probably around when I was in kindergarten. It was about a disobedient frog.

So, once upon a time, there was a tree frog who was very disobedient to his mother. He never did what he was told and always just did the opposite of whatever his mom wanted. For example, like if his mom said not to eat the bug, he would eat the bug and if his mom said to go west, he would go east. Because of his constant disobedience, the mommy frog ended up getting sick, and died. But before she died when she was very sick, she asked the disobedient son to bury her near the river, because, um, she thought he would do the opposite of what she asked, as always, and bury her in the land. However, because his mom became sick from his disobedience, the son frog repented from his ways and wanted to obey his mom at least for her final wish. So, he actually buried her by the river instead of on land. Each time it rained, he was so afraid that his mom’s body would wash away in the water so he would cry out. This is why you can hear a frog’s cries near rivers every time it rains.”

My informant told me this tale over lunch on a sunny day, as she stated that this story was the first one that popped up in her thoughts, as she was feeling homesick. She said that she remembered being so sad whenever her grandma would tell her this story, and that it would really make her feel love toward her mom. It helped her to at least try to be more obedient, because of fears that her mother would get sick if she disobeyed her. She would remember past instances of disobedience would remorse.

Hearing this story, I was also really struck with how sad and depressing the story is, especially for a tale that is often told to children. The way the mother and the son frog are never on the same page is really tragic, as it took his mothers death to make the son come to his senses and the mother was never able to see her changed son. She could have thought he never really loved her, as he was constantly disobedient, when he really did as evidence by his crying at each rainfall. This story could really scare children into obeying their parents, especially since children often take things literally. I think I personally can never hear the croaking of frogs the same way.

Persian Tale of The Chick and the Kitten

Nationality: Iranian-American
Age: 22
Occupation: College Student
Residence: San Diego, California
Performance Date: 3.23.12
Primary Language: English
Language: Farsi

The tale of the chick and the kitten told verbatim by informant:

“My mother and my grandfather told me this as a child and still remind me of it sometimes in Farsi, but I don’t know how exactly how to tell it. It’s a story about this baby chick and its mother hen and the baby chick always asks, ‘Why can’t I go play with that baby kitten over there?’ and the mom always tells it, ‘Don’t go playing with that kitten, don’t go play with the cats,’ doesn’t really explain why but she’s lecturing her chick and the chick goes against her wishes and plays with the cat and gets eaten. So the moral of the story is don’t go and associate with people or mix with people who are your opposites… because they can change you they can get you in a vulnerable environment, like you’re not familiar with, like they can destroy you and they can be bad influences on you and take advantage of you and basically corrupt you as a person.”

I think this märchen is another instance where the authoritative nature of parents towards their children come into play within the Persian culture. There is question from the chick without explanation from mother hen, which is no uncommon to parenting, but since the chick still doesn’t listen and gets eaten (fairly scary for a child) there’s the implication that you shouldn’t every question your parents but simply obey—for your own good. That at 22 years old my informant is still reminded of the lesson from this tale is fascinating because she is first generation American. Since she is in the melting pot of America, surrounding by people who are different in her in so many ways, she needs to be that much more careful with who she surrounds herself with. Though I don’t believe the chick and the kitten are opposed in any formal way, the cat can be understood as a natural predator in most respects. The chick is not just killed, but eaten, which is a whole other level of destruction, or corruption as my informant suggests. Either way the notion of the Other is clearly established and made out to be something to be cautious with, but seemingly avoided all together (if taken more literally).

Shanghai Tunnels

Nationality: American
Age: 20
Occupation: Student
Residence: Portland, OR
Performance Date: 4/12/12
Primary Language: English

My informant grew up in Portland, Oregon, and was fascinated with ghost tales and haunted areas. He told me about the Shanghai Tunnels in Portland, which are notorious around the city for being haunted and creepy. My informant told me that as the story goes, in the 1800s there were people known as “Shanghaiiers” who worked for the shipping industry that ran through Portland’s Willamette River. These Shanghaiiers would kidnap unsuspecting men and women from bars and other places around downtown, and bring them down through secret entrances to the underground Shanghai Tunnels.

These tunnels, which still exist today, were said to have been the preferred route to take these victims down to the river where they would be shipped out and used for slave labor, and possibly prostitution. These days, it is common folklore that these tunnels are haunted with the souls of those who were taken down these tunnels and shipped into slavery. They are said to be dangerous, and one of the “most haunted places in America”.

My informant has heard these stories from many friends and peers, who tell it as a part of social interaction. There are now tour groups that will take you on a tour through these tunnels, but my informant says that they are “only for the bravest of the brave. I’d never go”. My informant says that he believes that there really were Shanghaiiers who would kidnap individuals in the 1800’s, and says that he really does believe that the tunnels are haunted nowadays.

I believe that this story may be true, based on how widespread and widely popular it is around Portland. I believe that at one point, they likely were used as underground transports for kidnapped adults and children. On the other hand, I believe that the tunnels are likely not truly haunted by the souls of these individuals. Firstly, because the individuals were shipped other locations immediately after, and secondly because the whole idea of ghosts may just be a false identity, spread throughout folklore. Nevertheless, you absolutely won’t find me wandering these tunnels anytime soon, even on a tour.