B is for Bees (and honey!)

This post is dedicated to my friend Sara who loves bees!
I gathered some bee stories, and because English is my second language, there won't even be any bad puns in it! Enjoy!

Taoscán Mac Liath and the Magic Bees (from Edmund Lenihan's book, Strange Irish tales for children)
Any story that has the Fianna in it can only be good! This one is about a druid who brings magic bees into Ireland from Iceland, and upsets the peace in King Cormac's court. Buzzing and honey ensues! And all is well in the end.



The bee and Jupiter (Aesop's fable)
Cute little story about how bees learned to sting. I have heard a longer version of it from a Catalan storyteller, where the bee keeps coming back for things - stripes, wings, colors, honey-bags... and then, the sting. Kids love this story, and it goes well with Greek or Roman storytelling sessions.

Pindar and the Bees (from Pausanias)
"When Pindar was a young man he was once on his way to Thespiae in the hot season.  At about noon he was seized with fatigue and the drowsiness that follows it, so just as he was, he lay down a little way above the road.  As he slept bees alighted on him and plastered his lips with their wax. This circumstance first induced Pindar to compose verses."
And his words flowed like honey. Bees were sacred to the Muses.

Bees on the train (Hungarian tale)
Some people argue that this cannot possibly be a folktale, since it is set in the Communist times of Hungary, but it still makes a fun little cartoon. It is about a man who can talk to the bees, and when he leaves them behind against his will, the bees get upset and take revenge...

Dongó János (Hungarian folktale)
One of my favorite folktales about a young boy who can talk to the bees, and make them sit on his hat as he travels around. Collected from Transcarpathian storyteller Pályuk Anna about a hundred years ago. (I am working on translating the whole tale in the near future)

Butes the beekeeper
Wait, what? There was a beekeeper on the Argo? You bet! One of the Argonauts, Butes, was famous for his knowledge of bees. He did not see the whole mission through, though; he could not resist the song of the Sirens and he jumped into the sea. But Aphrodite saved him, carried him to Sicily, and had a son from him, the culture hero Eryx.

A is for Almonds

I found out about the A to Z challenge a mere few hours before it started! Since it is such a fun project, with so many participants, and it feeds my grafomania that is not satisfied with currently working on a Master's thesis, of course I had to sign up for this!!!

My personal challenge within a challenge is to post story- and storytelling-related posts every day. Starting with A...
A could stand for so many things! But because trees are in bloom, and spring is all over the place, and because I have been telling this story a lot lately...

... well, for me, A is for ALMONDS!

Some of you might now this story as The Queen who longed for Snow. I have been telling it as a folktale, with a prince and a princess, for a long time before I decided to read more about where the tale came from. And what I found out was much, much more interesting!

First of all, we have a young Moorish sultan, Ibn Almundin, who rules over Al-Gharb, later known as Portugal - more than eight hundred years ago. Tales do not say much about him, except that he is always victorious in battle. One day, when prisoners are brought in front of him, one of them catches his eye: a young woman called Gilda with light hair and blue eyes, a girl from a snow-covered country in the North, far far away. The young sultan falls in love, frees her, and asks for her hand in marriage; she agrees. They live happily for a while; people adore their new queen; but as time goes on, Gilda seems to be fading away, longing for something that no one can name. The young sultan is frantic to find out what he can do to bring the smile back onto her face; finally, he asks a poet who has been captured in the same battle she was, to explain to him what makes the queen so sad. The poet explains that Queen Gilda longs for snow and winter; in the kingdom of Al-Gharb summer rules all year round, and it never snows. Ibn Almundin thinks about this for a while; then he orders his people to bring him almond trees on ships from far away, and plants them around the castle as far as the eye can see. The next spring, one day, the queen walks to her window, and she sees a white blanket covering the hills and the valleys; she smiles for the first time in months, and runs out of the castle, to discover that the white blanket is not snow but petals of the almond blossom. From that day on, Queen Gilda is happy again; and every year, when the almond trees are in bloom, the whole kingdom celebrates.

Such a beautiful story! Also, so full of symbols and images. The young Moorish sultan (when I tell this story, I describe him with almond-shaped eyes, long before I tell my audience that the trees are almond trees), the fair Norse girl, the trees in bloom... Ibn-Almundin's name that sounds like almonds, and the sweet taste of marzipane and turrón. I was amazed when I came to the USA that so few people know what marzipane is...
Also, almond trees are native to the Middle East and Asia; the Arabic conquest of the Iberian peninsula brought them to Spain and Portugal, just like many other things. Fascinating story, with a colorful historical background!

Hunger Games - A storyteller's perspective

I like to look at things with a storyteller's eye. After watching the Hunger Games movie, I made a list of stories that came to my mind, and as the list grew, it turned into a set list for a Hunger Games-based storytelling performance!

But before I jump into telling more about it, let me explain how this post came to be.

The Hunger Games is all the craze these days. I have read the books, and enjoyed them quite a lot; they are perfect for the age group they are targeting (even though fans of heavier reading materials might miss the darker tones), and, much unlike some other bestsellers that shall not be named, have a point that is worth making. I also watched the movie, and once I got used to the jumpy-shaky camera, it was a very well done movie, and an excellent book adaptation. Yay!

What really amazes me about the Hunger Games, however, is its impact on young people. I have been talking to students between the age of 10 and 20-something, and observed how a good book leaves its mark on people. First of all, the Hunger Games start long and interesting discussions about serious topics. Second of all, they teach people, especially younger kids, about values like courage, friendship and honesty, and portray love as a deeper connection (as opposed to being obsessed with someone just because he is gorgeous, duh). My favorite thing was a note that one 12-year-old (reaping age, heh) girl wrote for her best friend: "If the Hunger Games was real, I would volunteer for you!". So I made a point of talking to "my" kids about the Hunger Games, and what they thought about them.
This generation just came out of the Percy Jackson era (which has similar positive effects on education - Greek Mythology is trending again!), so at some point in the conversation I asked them if they knew what myth the Hunger Games book as based on. They had no idea! When I told them it was a Greek myth about a hero called Theseus, the class blew up with excitement; that was the COOLEST THING EVER!

So, I started thinking about how I would link up the book with things that we storytellers are familiar with. I like to see popular things like this as windows of opportunity: we get a chance to connect the book with stories that surround it, and make young readers interested in other tales and other forms of storytelling.

So, for the sake of a storytelling brain exercise (and because I love compiling lists of stories), I started to make a list of possible topics for storytelling sessions linked to the Hunger Games. Here is the result of my musings:

1. Theseus
The books are admittedly based on the Greek myth of Theseus. The original myth is exciting, colorful, and a lot of fun to tell! Also, on a related note, Mary Renault's The King Must Die is one of my favorite books ever.

2. Rome
Anything Roman will be directly or indirectly linked to the world of the Capitol - mainly, gladiator games (this is where the archaeologist part of my brain kicks in and starts waving my unused MA around). This falls into the category of historical storytelling as opposed to traditional folktales, but sneaks a lot of Social Studies and History into the classroom. The legend of Camilla, for example, resonates really well with young audiences - fierce archer girl fighting against the Romans, rings a bell, anyone?

3. Appalachian stories
Not like they need any introduction in the storytelling world, but this could be a nice chance to make the new generation like them! District 12 has a distinct feel of Appalachia, and of one chooses the right tales, they go great with the themes in the books!

4. Archery stories
I absolutely love archery (that was one of the main draws for me to the Hunger Games). I did it for quite a few years, and started collecting archery-related legends, myths and folktales back when I was just starting out as a storyteller. As Katniss' weapon of choice, bow and arrow plays an important role in the books, and there are so many amazing stories that one motif could lead to...

5. Miners' tales
District 12 is a place for coal mining; mining as an old activity has a whole circle of tales, legends and superstitions related to it. I am sure any mining community would have quite a few of those...

6. Animal tales
We have no mockingjays or tracker jackers; but we do have old stories about bluejays, mockingbirds, wasps, and how they came to be. Part of the role animals play in the Hunger Games books is how they came to be (excellent background story by the way); some of the traditional stories are just as wild and exciting.

One book (well, three books) and so many stories! I can't wait for my school kids to hear this...

The Kingdom of Blue Grass

1. Move to Tennessee
2. Get a gig in Kentucky
3. Drive.

Done, done, and done. Well, sorta done (I still don't drive on my own). Mary Hamilton and her husband Charles were awesome in many ways: one, they invited me to tell at their event in Lexington, and two, they took a six hour drive on Monday morning to pick me up, and then drove me all the way back, and then on Tuesday, they did it again. Whew! Six hours would be three countries where I come from.

The ride, however, was one of the most beautiful in my life. I love Tennesse to begin with, and I have always preferred mountains to beaches; but crossing the mountains in a radiant spring day was something that sounds awfully corny when written down so I shall stop describing it right now instead of going on and on about how I am seeing dogwoods in bloom for the first time in my life and they are oh so pretty.

I also saw all kinds of fascinating things on the road, like caterpillar tents and bluejays and buzzards and coal mines and the path of a tornado, and bright green endless fields with horses and cows and the occasional sheep. And the mountains all around, remindig me of a thousand stories that I have imagined in a way that they could have happened right on this road...

After a short visit at the grave of Daniel Boone (learning American history here!), I was ready for my performance. It took place in Lexington, in a very pretty house that on the inside turned out to be an art gallery, filled with pictures and sculptures from a Slovakian immigrant artist. We had a tiny, but very sweet audience, and a full two hours to tell. I decided I was going to make the most of it!

First I told the legend of Prince Csaba and how the Way of the Warriors came to be on the night sky. Then, following that path into the next story, I told about Tündér Ilona the fairy queen and her kingdom in one corner of Hungary (the corner where I'm from). Following the fairies I told the local legend of the Fairy Lake, and then a folktale from Transcarpathia about how Tündér Ilona turned mortal to save a man's life. The tale is called the Dream of Tündér Ilona, and is sweet and funny at the same time. I have not heard many Hungarian tales about fairies being silly, curious and easily distracted - let alone saying those things about the Queen herself! But there it is, and I love telling it.

After a short break and some story-swapping and talking, I was ready to do my second round of stories - that only consisted of one tale. It has many titles in Hungarian and I have translated it into many others for my English speaking audiences (currently I think of it as the Sisters of the Mountain); it is part folktale, part literary story, part history, part legend, and all-around an amazing experience for me every time I tell it. It takes place about 800 years ago; I would really love to write more about it, but it would be a spoiler from the third sentence in, so. I will have to record it soon!

The evening was a lot of fun; I saw smiles and eyes wide open from my little audience, and they made me feel like royalty. I was really, really happy that I got to share my stories in another amazing corner of the States, and were received with such open wonder! Seeing your stories appreciated is like seeing your children win a competition.

I am a bit sad I did not get to spend more time in Kentucky (school stuff, mostly, gotta stay on top of everything including my thesis). It is definitely on the list of my favorite places now.

To Mary and Charles: thank you! You are amazing :)

Aggressive Piglet Superstar

Aggressive Piglet (Agresszív Kismalac) is the hero of many Hungarian jokes. Aggressive Piglet is also a personality type: unable to admit whe he's wrong, bullying everyone around him, and completely oblivious to subtle hints - or, rather, hints of any kind.
Sounds familiar yet?
Yes? No? "What the heck?"

Well, fortunately for the rest of the world, many Aggressive Piglet jokes translate into English without a hitch. And because no one has been doing the global favor and injecting Aggressive Piglet into mainstream culture, I decided it was time Piglet made the jump onto the big stage.

Telling a Piglet joke is easy. Start telling it as any other joke, then randomly scream at people in your rudest voice. For some reason I have not quite figured out yet, the vast majority thinks it is funny to tell them that way.

WARNING!
Aggressive Piglet, no matter how cute and cuddly the name would lead you to believe, is not politically correct, not child friendly, and sometimes just all-around rude.
YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!

Here we go.

Piglet is sitting on a tree. Rabbit walks by.
"Piglet, what are you doing?!"
"I'm eating cherries!"
"But... Piglet, that's a pine tree!"
"SHUT UP! I BROUGHT SOME!!!"

Piglet is riding a bike. He turns a corner, runs into a wall, falls over. Rabbit runs up to him.
"Oh my god!!! Piglet are you all right?!"
"SHUT UP! THIS IS HOW I PARK!!!"

Pretty blonde walks down the street with a piglet in her arms. She meets a friend. Friend cheerfully: "Oh my god it's so cuuuute!!! Where did you get it?"
Piglet: "SHUT UP! I BOUGHT HER!!!"

Aggressive Piglet and sparrow are sitting on the tram. It's winter, bitter cold. Sparrow chirps up:
"Piglet, could you please close the window? It's cold outside!"
Piglet mutters something, stands, closes the window. A few minutes later he yells at Sparrow:
"SO IS IT WARMER OUTSIDE NOW?!"

Pigler marches into a restaurant and plops down by a table. Waiter walks up to him, very politely: "I'm sorry, but this table is reserved."
"SO BRING ME ANOTHER ONE!!!"

Piglet walks into a train station.
"I want a round trip ticket!"
"Sure. Where?"
"THERE AND BACK, DAMMIT!"

Piglet's last words: "WHO THE F*** IS THAT STUPID GUY PICKING BERRIES IN A FUR COAT?!"

Piglet is driving a truck, and gets stuck under a bridge. The police shows up, the officer walks over to the truck.
"Hi there Piglet, are you stuck?"
"NO DAMMIT I'M TRANSPORTING A BRIDGE!!!"

Piglet walks into a bus station.
"I want a ticket!"
"Where to?"
"NONE OF YOUR DAMN BUSINESS!"

Piglet travels on a bus. Old lady shows up. Piglet:
"Would you like to sit down?"
"Yes, please!"
"WELL, YOU CAN'T!"

Piglet shows up at the doctor's office.
"I got kicked by a camel!"
"Where did it kick you?"
"WHERE DO YOU THINK?! IN THE F*** DESERT!"

Piglet to the doctor:
"I think I have anger issues."
"What makes you think so?"
"TOO MANY QUESTIONS!!!"

Piglet walks down the street.
"F*** people, f*** cars, f*** streets, f*** lights, f**** city, I wish they would go up in a puff of smoke!... F**** SMOKE!!!"

Piglet is failing an exam. Finally the teacher decides to be nice:
"Fine, I'll let you pass with a D."
"I'M NOT GOING ANYWHERE!!!"

Piglet runs a red light, gets pulled over by the police. Officer:
"Piglet, that will cost you 200 dollars."
"I'M NOT BUYIN' ANYTHING!!!"

Piglet falls into a pit. Rabbit shows up.
"Wait Piglet, I'll get you a ladder!"
"I'M NOT WAITING!!!"

Piglet catches the golden fish.
"Piglet, if you let me back in the river, I'll make one wish come true!"
"DIE!"

Piglet is cooking a golden fish by the river. Rabbit shows up.
"Oh my god, Piglet! That fish could have fulfilled three wishes!"
"HE DID!"

Piglet meets a nun and headbutts her.
"BATMAN, YOU'RE WEAK!!!"

And finally, the all-time classic:

Piglet needs a lawnmower. He decides to go over to Hedgehog and borrow his. On the way over to Hedgehog's, he starts thinking:
"I'll just stop by and ask him to lend me the lawnmower. Hedgehod is such a nice guy, I'm sure he'll agree. I mean, he is usually nice. Most of the time. He has usually been nice to me. Except once. I don't think he really likes me. He gives me those looks. I think he thinks I'm not good enough. I bet he doesn't trust me with his lawnmower. He will be all like 'Piglet, you are goin to break it'. I think he hates my guts. What a jerk. And that lawnmower is ancient, so what's the big deal? Just because he's always thought I was stupid, that's no reason to refuse me!"
Piglet finally gets to Hedgehog's, knocks on the door. Hedgehog opens is.
"Oh hey Piglet, what can I do for you?"
"F*** YOUR LAWNMOWER, HEDGEHOG!!!"

(The picture has been linked from this website. Check it out, it's cool!)

Stories in the Ark – Storytelling Festival in Ann Arbor, MI

One sentence: I shared a greenroom with Maynard Moose.
I am still a little starstruck.

Being invited to the Ark as a featured teller was a real honor, and I had been looking forward to traveling to Ann Arbor. I have to say right away that it was an extremely well organized event. It was also their twenty-fifth storytelling festival, so they probably had time to work on the details. They really treated us like royalty.
I flew in Friday afternoon and was invited for dinner to Judy Schmidt’s. We sat together in her beautiful home decorated with hand-made quilts; they even had another guest, Sándor, who was all too happy to talk with me in Hungarian. We spent long hours talking together about Hungary and Hungarian culture; we also talked about history, music, languages, and anything else that came to our mind. Then, when I was about ready to fall asleep, I was taken to Beverly’s, who was going to be my host for the weekend.
Saturday morning we went to Willy Claflin’s workshop at the local library; the workshop was about character voices, and we had great fun coming up with different emotions, personalities, and different voices for all of them. We also had huge bags of puppets to play around with, and we got to meet some of Willy’s own entourage, among them Maynard, whom I have been hearing about for more than four years, but somehow I never managed to catch him on stage (I even have some of his CDs). It was a great workshop! And we got cookies in the end.
Saturday evening was the big concert for the festival – four tellers, three hours straight, and the house was full! We all gathered in the green room of the Ark, with its walls covered from floor to ceiling with signatures, drawings and messages from the various artists who have performed here in the past decade. Whenever I was not doing something, I kept reading the walls.
As for the concert: Barbara, our emcee, did a wonderful job, both with introducing us and with looking after us backstage, making sure we were all set and we had everything we needed to be happy little storytellers. Lyn opened up the concert with an amazing part-historical, part-family story; I was listening from backstage, waiting for my turn, but even her voice alone was delightful to listen to, even with such a serious story.
I was up next, and I had a full hour for Hungarian stories. I decided I was going to do a show of Pályuk Anna tales – I can’t get enough of her stories, and I have been practicing them at the University School, so I thought it was time to introduce them to grown-up audiences. I told four stories: The boy who walked on the clouds, The Dream of the Fairy Queen (that one I have not told in English before, but I greatly enjoyed it now), The Dancing Princesses (Anna’s version is full of little details that I love), and Where have all the fairies gone? (which Anna used to tell in first person, and so did I). The hour was over before I noticed, and it was time for intermission.
(By the way, the greatest thing about the Ark? The audience has popcorn. I felt like a movie star!)

In the second half, Allison opened with song and story. I can see why she was so successful at the Moth; her personal stories were exquisitely crafted and hilarious at the same time. She also has a beautiful singing voice; before we left, she caught me in the hallway, and sang me a Hungarian song. What a surprise!
Willy Claflin, of course, was the hero of the evening. He had us laugh until we cried; he brought out Maynard, and a squeaky lobster, and a short tribute to Gamble Rodgers, and songs. Time flew and none of us noticed; bass started booming under out feet from the ground floor, but nobody cared. Everyone agreed it was a great evening.

Sunday afternoon we had a performance for family audiences, which in this case meant about 150 people, mostly kids (and even more popcorn). Allison, Willy and I had 20 minutes each, and we made good use of it too. Even though standing on a well-lit stage makes audience participation a lot more complicated, the kids were great. I told my Ragnar and Thora story (dragons are always a success), and they guessed all the right answers right away; I also told When elephants could fly, and they seemed to enjoy it a lot. They sang along with Allison, and participated in her Indian folktale, and of course, no one is loved more by the kids than Maynard (even though I also greatly enjoyed Gorf the frog’s version of Froggy-went-a’-courting, accompanied by a turquoise flyswatter).

We signed the walls; we exchanged cards; we talked and laughed before and after concerts in the green room. The great thing about storytellers is that they are such amazing, friendly people, even with someone like me who is just starting to experience the big stage. And the people of Ann Arbor really made us all feel right at home.

I returned from the Ark filled with experiences, ideas, and enthusiasm. This should keep me going for a very long time.

Changeling: the Dreaming

Changeling: the Dreaming (CtD) is the roleplay game of infinite creativity, and the importance of imagination in everyday life.

The game in a nutshell: you play a character who has the mortal body of a modern day human, and the immortal soul of a fairy tale creature (such as a Troll, a Satyr, a Sidhe, a Pooka, etc.) Mortals see you as just another guy on the street - but other Changelings like you see you for exactly what you are, butterfly wings, goat legs, magic swords and all. You desperately need Glamour ("the stuff dreams are made of") to survive in the boring mundane world - you need the company of people who hope, dream, create and imagine. You feed of their creativity, and that's what keeps you alive; if you have to live without that, you slowly fade away and forget what you really are. You can also cross over into the world of the Dreaming - the collective world of imagination. But if you spend too much time wandering the landscape of folktales and legends, you might forget that you are also human, and with that, you lose your sanity. All your life (many lives, actually, since immortal fae souls are always reborn in a new mortal body) you balance on the thin line between fantasy and reality, and if you do it well, you are able to heal both worlds, so close to each other and yet forever apart. You are something more than just mortal; you are strange, and unique, and many times downright weird; you see things nobody else can, and the only thing that can really hurt you is Banality, the power of boredom and lost hopes.

It really is a fascinating game. It resonates especially well with storytellers (who basically live the Changeling life to begin with) and gamers (who like knowing that strange can mean good things too). At first, it can be a bit hard to grasp, but once the game really starts, it is more fun than any other RPG I have ever played. The best thing about the "Storytelling system" is that it has a huge emphasis on creativity, to the point of giving up scores and dice altogether to create a better story together.

We played 4 sessions of Changeling, adding up to about 5 and a half hours of gaming time. We had to split the class into two groups of seven; both groups played the same story, but with different Game Masters, and different characters in each.
Without further ado, here are some highlights of our Changeling game:

Nockers
They are the tech masters of the Changeling world. Remember the Grimm tale about the elves who sneak into the shoemaker's shop at night and fix the shoes? We are talking about the same guys here, except evolved into the 21st century. They can create virtually anything, using Glamour and an appropriate pile of junk, and their special ability is that the more they swear while doing it, the better the result. No Nocker creation is flawless - there is always something wrong with them in the end. Artists know what I'm talking about.

Our two groups had 3 Nockers: two guys and a lady. They supplied machines, weapons and ideas all through the adventure. One of them turned a TARDIS they found into a DeLorean (still bigger on the inside) by a collective swearing marathon; one built a portal gun from a six-barrelled gun (and he had to spin it every time and hope that he would get the right barrel at first try). Two of them together built a mechanical rooster (for hunting down a basilisk) from the collective contents of the group's pockets: duct tape, a student ID, a credit card, two bazooka shells, half a dozen fairy arrows, 1 dollar's worth of change, and Santa's hat. The lady remodeled Robocop into a motorbike. McGyver's got nothin' on these guys.

Trolls
They are big, they are strong, they are blue, and they are the noble knights of the fairy world. We had two of them, one in each group: an ex-cop with a bazooka and a greatsword, and a bartender with a baseball bat and a sawed-off shotgun. They had simple yet effective solutions to every obstacle that stood in the group's way. The ex-cop would yell "It's science time!!!" and fire off a warning shot. With the bazooka.

Eshu
We had four of them, and they were nothing alike. Eshu are the spirits of storytelling, constantly traveling, constantly looking for adventure; our team included a chick fashionista, an Arabian warrior, an Indian diplomat with a British accent, and a traveling magician from East Tennessee. They were out for the stories, and lead their teams across the world of the Dreaming that only storytellers can really navigate without getting lost forever. They also had very neat ideas, like building the portal gun out of a Nocker weapon and a legitimate fae spell, or killing the basilisk with a rooster's crow (the good thing about playing with storytellers and Harry Potter fans: you don't have to explain what you are talking about).

Cantrips
Spells in Changeling are called cantrips. Basically, the player has to come up with an idea for a ritual that makes the magic happen. It can be classic spellcasting, like drawing runes and magic circles - or it can be something completely different, like standing around a snow castle, unraveling a sweater, and singing a song from Spongebob while holding hands. The better the ritual, the more dice they get for rolling for success, and the more likely the spell will actually succeed. Returning to the portal gun example, the ritual included our British Eshu running around the gaming table at breakneck speed, screaming "speedy thing goes in - speedy thing goes out!!!"
(Yes, I know it all sounds ridiculous. News flash: it sounds like a bunch of people playing a game and having fun together. We need a lot more noise like that in the mundane world...)

All in all, the adventure was tons of fun. Everyone was creative, enthusiastic, and engaged; there was a lot of laughing, a lot of applauding each other, a lot of excitement, a lot of dice, and a lot of "hell yeah!!!" moments along the way. We all soaked in a bunch of Glamour. It should last us for a while.