The stories in this book are all true. Its author has been held up at gunpoint at night on a road in Guatemala and shot with a machine gun in the chest and shoulder in Vietnam. He’s come close to dying of thirst in the Sahara and freezing to death in the Himalayas. He’s contracted malaria and typhoid fever in Ethiopia and hepatitis in India. There have been accidents involving motorcycles and automobiles. He’s had close calls involving lions (twice), elephants (three times) and a rhino (once).
He’s visited over a hundred countries, seen revolutions, famines, wars, and panty raids, feasted in palaces and fasted in caves. He’s discovered paradises, been saved by dolphins, hopped freight trains, danced with an 108-year-old woman, swam with sharks, frequented whore houses and opium dens, and met a man capable of revealing God. In the pages of this book you’ll meet the queen of the Ecuadorian prison system, a swami from Katmandu who makes his living picking up large stones with his penis, yak herders, tunnel rats, 300 pound go-go girls, deep sea divers, drug dealers, stock car drivers, Indonesian princes, Bolivian miners, beanheads, powder monkeys, hookers and saints.
Between the stories the author gives advice to would-be travelers, describes six tropical paradises where you can live comfortably on five hundred dollars a month, and includes his personal lists of the best things in the world.
Mr. Linnemeier hails from the Hoosier state. Today he treads the path of moderation, living contentedly in a small town, surrounded by friends and family. He claims to have abandoned most of his previous vices, and has the stated aim of dying peacefully in bed at ninety five. In his own words, “I’m not the kind of person that men automatically defer to. I don’t usually make women’s hearts beat faster when they see me across a crowded room.” That’s the point: you don’t have to be remarkable to live a remarkable life. If you’d like to lead an adventurous life but feel that you’re too young, too old, too poor, or too tied down with responsibilities, then read on.
Saturday, July 5, 2008
On-going Projects
Filming an interview with political leaders in Ram Rahim Nagar
1. Documentary with the working title, An Island of Peace. A few years ago a fury was set loose in India. In the city of Ayodhya, an ancient mosque that had been built on the foundation of an even more ancient Hindu temple was razed by fundamentalists. They were egged-on by politicians who hoped to gain from the conflict.
A few days later a train-load of boisterous Hindu pilgrims returning from Ayodhya were stopped at a station somewhere in Gujarat when a mob of incensed Muslims fell upon them. They bolted the trains doors shut, soaked the cars with gasoline and set fire to them. Fifty eight men, women and children screaming and clamoring at the barred windows were immolated.
The blow was passed on. Riots broke out all over Gujarat. The epicenter of the violence was the immense, grimy industrial city of Ahmeddabad. Mobs (Hindus this time) of merciless men surged through the streets - not to loot, but to murder. Men with a passion to see blood running on their hands, to smash flesh with bricks and feel bones breaking, to rape, to have their skin hot from burning buildings - to kill.
There was a quiet village of working people in the midst of the city. Untouchables and impoverished Muslims for the most part. It was once a separate town, but had over time been engulfed by the growth of Ahmeddabad. Even so, it retained a separate identity. As a symbol of what the founders wished it to be, the village was centered on a peaceful public square with a modest Hindu temple facing the tomb of a Muslim holy man. It was hoped that the town would be a place where Hindu and Muslim could live harmoniously. Its name was Ram Rahim Nagar. Nagar means town. Ram is the Hindu name for God. Rahim is an Arabic term most often translated as “The Compassionate.”
On February 28th of 2002 word began to spread that riots had broken out in the city. Terrible things were happening everywhere and word had it that the police had been given instructions by the local head of state that they were not to interfere. Women were being raped, then burned alive to dispose of the evidence. Everyone in the tiny village was terrified, but they knew what they had to do. Three gates led into the village. Hindu and Muslim standing shoulder to shoulder, armed only with sticks took up their posts at those gates. The seething mobs poured out of the mighty city and descended upon them. The young men stood their ground. They defended their town. They were not moved.
Not long ago, my friend Matt Bockelman and I spent an extremely hectic week in Ram Rahim Nagar, speaking with the local leaders, interviewing teachers, attending religious gatherings, and in general getting to know the place – trying to learn what makes it so different. We shot around fifteen hours of film which Matt will try to edit down to twenty minutes. We hope to get the necessary funding to go back and shoot a full length documentary.
1. Documentary with the working title, An Island of Peace. A few years ago a fury was set loose in India. In the city of Ayodhya, an ancient mosque that had been built on the foundation of an even more ancient Hindu temple was razed by fundamentalists. They were egged-on by politicians who hoped to gain from the conflict.
A few days later a train-load of boisterous Hindu pilgrims returning from Ayodhya were stopped at a station somewhere in Gujarat when a mob of incensed Muslims fell upon them. They bolted the trains doors shut, soaked the cars with gasoline and set fire to them. Fifty eight men, women and children screaming and clamoring at the barred windows were immolated.
The blow was passed on. Riots broke out all over Gujarat. The epicenter of the violence was the immense, grimy industrial city of Ahmeddabad. Mobs (Hindus this time) of merciless men surged through the streets - not to loot, but to murder. Men with a passion to see blood running on their hands, to smash flesh with bricks and feel bones breaking, to rape, to have their skin hot from burning buildings - to kill.
There was a quiet village of working people in the midst of the city. Untouchables and impoverished Muslims for the most part. It was once a separate town, but had over time been engulfed by the growth of Ahmeddabad. Even so, it retained a separate identity. As a symbol of what the founders wished it to be, the village was centered on a peaceful public square with a modest Hindu temple facing the tomb of a Muslim holy man. It was hoped that the town would be a place where Hindu and Muslim could live harmoniously. Its name was Ram Rahim Nagar. Nagar means town. Ram is the Hindu name for God. Rahim is an Arabic term most often translated as “The Compassionate.”
On February 28th of 2002 word began to spread that riots had broken out in the city. Terrible things were happening everywhere and word had it that the police had been given instructions by the local head of state that they were not to interfere. Women were being raped, then burned alive to dispose of the evidence. Everyone in the tiny village was terrified, but they knew what they had to do. Three gates led into the village. Hindu and Muslim standing shoulder to shoulder, armed only with sticks took up their posts at those gates. The seething mobs poured out of the mighty city and descended upon them. The young men stood their ground. They defended their town. They were not moved.
Not long ago, my friend Matt Bockelman and I spent an extremely hectic week in Ram Rahim Nagar, speaking with the local leaders, interviewing teachers, attending religious gatherings, and in general getting to know the place – trying to learn what makes it so different. We shot around fifteen hours of film which Matt will try to edit down to twenty minutes. We hope to get the necessary funding to go back and shoot a full length documentary.
On-going Projects 2
2. Sequel to the book, Inconvenient Stories
Two years ago I was one of fifty American Vietnam veterans interviewed in an excellent book called, Inconvenient Stories, by Jeff Wolin. When I first got my copy I read it cover-to-cover in one sitting. Finally there was a book that accurately portrayed what it had been like. One thing was missing though-- there was nothing about our opponents. I emailed Jeff and told him I thought the Vietnamese soldiers should have their say as well.
He agreed, and six months later we found ourselves braving the anarchic motorcycle traffic of Hanoi. For two straight weeks, day after day we spoke with veterans and heard the most incredible, heart wrenching stories. I hardly know where to begin. Everyone we spoke with had lost friends and relatives. Everyone contracted malaria. Practically everyone was wounded, usually numerous times.
A man I met by chance, the owner of a little business where I bought a few pieces of furniture, lived through a B-52 bombing raid in the jungle. Sitting quietly together in his store, I could only dimly imagine the horror and total chaos he described. As the bombs fell from the sky, trees all around him were suddenly uprooted and flying everywhere. He had no idea where he was. Everyone with him that day was killed. He was the only survivor.
We met a couple who married during the war. She had been a nurse in a hospital just across the border in Laos. He had been a patient. He was involved in transporting supplies across the border, so after his recovery they were able to see each other from time to time. I asked her to describe the wedding. She said it took place in a cave attended by about 100 comrades. Some brought flowers from the jungle and they all sang songs together. I asked her if she remembered the lyrics. “Yes”, she said. “Our favorite was about keeping Highway 9 open to defeat the imperialists.”
I met a musician who wrote a composition about a bombing raid he survived in a shallow tunnel with 42 men (40 died). One wall of his apartment was lined with speakers made from beer kegs cut in half with sound equipment inserted. The piece went on for ten minutes and consisted of pounding, crashing, tortured piano discordance, with a woman’s voice screaming, imploring and weeping in the background. I’ve never heard anything so disturbing.
He was wounded three times. Once from a machine gun mounted on a helicopter. Normally the NVA kept under cover of the jungle, but he was crossing a river one day and a chopper caught him totally exposed on a sandbar. The pilot and the door gunner were toying with him-– firing just behind him, then just in front of him. He was hit once. Figuring he was as good as dead, he turned around, faced the helicopter, and defiantly waved to them. The pilot waved back, then abruptly wheeled off to the side and, a moment later, was gone.
In my book I describe the defenses surrounding a base-- how impenetrable they seemed. I met the member of a sapper team who described to me how they breached them. “First”, he explained, “we were masters of camouflage. At nightfall, we removed all our clothes and coated ourselves and our rifles and satchel charges totally with mud. Lying on my belly, ten feet from you in broad daylight, you wouldn’t have seen me."
"We came crawling through in a delta formation”, he continued. “Anyone killed or wounded was dragged back out by one of the team, but the rest of us just kept moving forward. Usually the barbed wire obstacles had already been cut through by your own bullets, but the lead man still had to carefully look for flares and disable them without setting them off as he came through. If the wire wasn’t severed we’d put sticks beneath them, raise them a bit and crawl beneath them.”
They told their stories simply and without rancor. They treated me as just another old soldier who had been fortunate enough to make it through. I don’t normally drink alcohol these days, but there is a time for everything.
Two years ago I was one of fifty American Vietnam veterans interviewed in an excellent book called, Inconvenient Stories, by Jeff Wolin. When I first got my copy I read it cover-to-cover in one sitting. Finally there was a book that accurately portrayed what it had been like. One thing was missing though-- there was nothing about our opponents. I emailed Jeff and told him I thought the Vietnamese soldiers should have their say as well.
He agreed, and six months later we found ourselves braving the anarchic motorcycle traffic of Hanoi. For two straight weeks, day after day we spoke with veterans and heard the most incredible, heart wrenching stories. I hardly know where to begin. Everyone we spoke with had lost friends and relatives. Everyone contracted malaria. Practically everyone was wounded, usually numerous times.
A man I met by chance, the owner of a little business where I bought a few pieces of furniture, lived through a B-52 bombing raid in the jungle. Sitting quietly together in his store, I could only dimly imagine the horror and total chaos he described. As the bombs fell from the sky, trees all around him were suddenly uprooted and flying everywhere. He had no idea where he was. Everyone with him that day was killed. He was the only survivor.
We met a couple who married during the war. She had been a nurse in a hospital just across the border in Laos. He had been a patient. He was involved in transporting supplies across the border, so after his recovery they were able to see each other from time to time. I asked her to describe the wedding. She said it took place in a cave attended by about 100 comrades. Some brought flowers from the jungle and they all sang songs together. I asked her if she remembered the lyrics. “Yes”, she said. “Our favorite was about keeping Highway 9 open to defeat the imperialists.”
I met a musician who wrote a composition about a bombing raid he survived in a shallow tunnel with 42 men (40 died). One wall of his apartment was lined with speakers made from beer kegs cut in half with sound equipment inserted. The piece went on for ten minutes and consisted of pounding, crashing, tortured piano discordance, with a woman’s voice screaming, imploring and weeping in the background. I’ve never heard anything so disturbing.
He was wounded three times. Once from a machine gun mounted on a helicopter. Normally the NVA kept under cover of the jungle, but he was crossing a river one day and a chopper caught him totally exposed on a sandbar. The pilot and the door gunner were toying with him-– firing just behind him, then just in front of him. He was hit once. Figuring he was as good as dead, he turned around, faced the helicopter, and defiantly waved to them. The pilot waved back, then abruptly wheeled off to the side and, a moment later, was gone.
In my book I describe the defenses surrounding a base-- how impenetrable they seemed. I met the member of a sapper team who described to me how they breached them. “First”, he explained, “we were masters of camouflage. At nightfall, we removed all our clothes and coated ourselves and our rifles and satchel charges totally with mud. Lying on my belly, ten feet from you in broad daylight, you wouldn’t have seen me."
"We came crawling through in a delta formation”, he continued. “Anyone killed or wounded was dragged back out by one of the team, but the rest of us just kept moving forward. Usually the barbed wire obstacles had already been cut through by your own bullets, but the lead man still had to carefully look for flares and disable them without setting them off as he came through. If the wire wasn’t severed we’d put sticks beneath them, raise them a bit and crawl beneath them.”
They told their stories simply and without rancor. They treated me as just another old soldier who had been fortunate enough to make it through. I don’t normally drink alcohol these days, but there is a time for everything.
On-going Projects 3
3. Igbo Folklore Project
While on my return flight from the Ukraine, I had the fortunate experience of sitting next to a lovely woman with a great laugh, Christiana Okechuckwu. She had been-- and continues to be-- working on a project to preserve some of the indigenous Nigerian culture through the publication of their native folklore. Throughout the course of conversation, we both agreed these rich and vibrant stories would translate beautifully on the screen, colorfully animated, for the new information age. As western culture continues to seep into and swallow up less aggressive and older cultures, the preservation of these cultures is an increasingly high priority. (Though it's ironic that even this is being done by westerners.)
If you have an interest in this project in any capacity-- filming, animating, publishing, funding, etc-- or would like to comment, feel free to contact Christiana Okechuckwu via email: inwelleusa@yahoo.com or myself via this blog. Christiana is a professor at Montgomery College and the executive director at the Inwelle Resource Center in Maryland. Following are a example of one of the many folk stories transcribed directly from the village storytellers by Prof. Christiana Okechukwu, published here with her permission.
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Tortoise And The Old Woman
Once, there was famine in the animal kingdom. Hunger was whipping all the animals, big and small, young and old, all of them. All of them, without exception. They were as lean as rakes. Tortoise was so lean that when he walked his bones rattled in his shell. Tortoise could not bear the hunger anymore. He swore that he must do something about his hunger
One day, he went in search of food. He walked for seven days and seven nights. He crossed seven rivers and seven forests. He walked beyond the boundaries of the animal kingdom into the human kingdom. Tortoise walked on the outskirts of the human kingdom because he was afraid of the big humans who would pick him up and put him in their bags. But he was very hungry. He had to find food or he would die. He walked on the outskirts praying that he would come upon a deserted house so that he could steal food and run away. Suddenly, he came upon a small hut that looked deserted. As he was about to leave his hiding and go into the compound, an old woman came out of the house and went to the garden behind the house, cut some vegetables and went back into the house. He hid behind the bushes to observe the house further. He stood behind the bushes and watched the house the whole day, but no one else came to the house except the old creaky woman who kept hopping between her house and her garden. Sometimes, the old woman would sit down and put some tobacco snuff into her nostrils.
“Surely, that old woman must live by herself,” Tortoise said to himself. Tortoise continued to hide in the bushes.
In the evening, the old woman sat down for her supper. Tortoise came out of his hiding and walked tiredly towards the old woman. When he got to the old woman, he slumped on the ground and cried out in a tiny voice “Mother of the good ones please can you spare water for a tired traveler to drink?“Sure my child. Drink as much as you want.”
Tortoise took the cup of water beside the old woman and gulped down the water.“Have you been traveling for a long time?” The old woman asked.
“Yes mother,” Tortoise replied. “I am going to my in-law’s place. I am thirsty and hungry but my hunger can wait until I reach my in-law’s place.”
“ How far is your in-law’s place?”
“ Mother of the good ones, it is only a day’s journey away. That is why stopped for a cup of water I am sure my hunger can wait a day longer, Tortoise replied humbly.
“ My son, you don’t have to wait for another day to eat. There is enough food here for me to share with you. See I cooked too much food, and I am alone. Do sit down and eat with me and tell me all about your travels.”
Tortoise pretended to hesitate. “Night is falling, and I might not reach my in-law’s house before midnight. I have reach his house before midnight so that I do not meet the evil spirits who choose the midnight for their meetings. No, I do not want to meet the spirits on the road.”
“ I have many rooms here. You can sleep in my house if it becomes too dark. It is not often that I get visitors. I am lonely,” the old woman offered good naturedly.
“Since you put it that way,” Tortoise replied, “I will stay and eat and if it becomes too dark, I will sleep and continue my journey tomorrow.”
Tortoise ate and ate until his flesh filled his shell again. He could not get up after the heavy meal. Then he started telling the old woman stories After Tortoise had been telling his travel stories for a while, he said to the old woman, “You know, the world is changing greatly now. Leaves are beginning to talk.”
“Don’t say that,” the old woman screamed in astonishment. I believe all your other stories but I do not believe that dry leaves can talk.”
“One day you will see. Those dry leaves in front of your house under that big tree, you see them, one day they will start talking and even singing, and even dancing. When that happens, run as fast as you can because it shows that a great calamity is coming to visit your house. You have to run away and come back when the dry leaves stop singing. If you stay and see the spirits that are making the leaves sing the whole village will be wiped out by leprosy. Once, it happened in a village I passed through and one inquisitive person stayed behind to find out what was happening and the entire village was wiped out by hunger because rain refused to fall on that village for seven years.”
The woman did not believe Tortoise. The next day, Tortoise said his goodbye and left.
Two days later, the old woman cooked her supper as usual and sat down to eat. Suddenly, she heard someone calling her name “Mgbafo come and see!” She ran into her yard to see who was calling her. She did not see anybody, but she heard singing coming from the heap of dry leaves under the iroko in front of her house. She listened again. Yes it was a song.
Old woman did you say that dry leaves do not talk
Iyagiliya
Old woman did you say that dry leaves do not talk?
Iyagiliya
They are talking now
Iyagiliya
They are singing too
Iyagiliya
They are dancing too
Iyagiliya
They are jumping up
Iyagiliya
Fear gripped the old woman from head to toe. She looked around. There was nobody. She ran as fast as her legs could carry her. When she ran away, Tortoise, who never went anywhere after saying his goodbye, came out of the leaves where he had been hiding for two days and ate up the old woman’s food. When he finished eating, he took spare food to give to his family and went back home to the animal kingdom. When the old woman came back from her hiding place, she found that she had no food to eat. She cooked another supper and ate. She was too tired and her food was not as tasty as the one she lost. She went to bed angry.
Seven days later, Tortoise returned and hid under the leaves again and started singing and dancing again. The woman again ran away and Tortoise did the same thing he did the previous time. The woman came home again and found that her food was gone. This time, the woman was really angry. She decided to seek help from a native doctor. The native doctor’s name was Omenkafulunanya, He who does what the eyes see or omenka for short.
Omenka listened to the old woman’s story. He kept nodding as he listened. When the old woman finished her story, Omenka went into his room and brought out his diviners’ bag. From the bag, he took out his ekpili and threw it on the ground yararam. He shook his head. He put his hand inside his bag again and took out a big lump of nzu. He drew lines on the ground with the nzu. He put his hand in his bag the third time and brought out his oji. He prayed for the ancestors to guide his divination. He broke the oji, took one lobe of the oji and threw it outside inviting the ancestors to partake of the oji saying: “Nnanyi fa taa oji”. Then he chewed a lobe of the oji, cleared his throat loudly and started his divination. At this time, he was looking very fierce with his right eyelids painted white with nzu and the left eyelid painted black with unyi so that he could see the spirits when they come to give him their message. Then he started chanting:
Our ancestors come and reveal to us what is hidden
You know all; we know nothing
He that is greater than his peers is calling you
Ha! ha! ha!Are you coming?
It is I Omenka calling.
My enemies are fighting in vainHa! ha! ha!
You can only go round the pepper tree; you can not climb it
Ha! ha! ha!
I am hearing you.
He that we all know but no one can fathom.
Reveal, reveal, reveal.
Mgbafo wants to know her tormentor
Show her. Show her. Show her.
Omenka laughed in a guttural voice. “Look at it. It is all here.” He turned his ekpili several times. He drew his nzu on the floor. He cleared his throat loudly. He spit loudly on the ground.
“Mgbafo!” he called
Mgbafo answered, “He who does what eyes see.”
Omenka continued. “The spirits said that your tormentor is someone you have been kind to. Do you know any such person?”
Mgbafo had been kind to many people. She would not think of any among them that would want to harm her. She said so.
“Mgbafo!” Omenka continued again. “The spirits said to tell you not to worry. They will take care of everything. Prepare cocoayam foo foo in the evening before the next Eke market. Mold the foo foo to look like a man. On the evening of the Eke market day, leave the molded foo foo in front of your door just before you start eating. When your tormentor sings again, run away as usual. Come back the usual time you came back in the past. The next day come and tell the spirits what happened.”
When Mgbafo got home, she did as Omenka told her. When the leaves started singing and dancing, she ran away. Tortoise came out of his hiding to go and eat Mgbafo’s food as usual. He saw this man standing in front of the door. He stopped for a moment, scared. Then he said to himself “I am a man. Why should I fear this small man?” He walked up to the cocoayam foo foo man and said,
“Who are you?” There was no answer. He asked again
“Who are you. What are you doing here?” Again there was no answer. He asked yet again “Who are you? What are doing here? Do you want to eat? What is your name? Are a man or a spirit?” Yet again there was no answer.
“Don’t you talk?” No answer. Then Tortoise became mad. “If I slap you now you will answer my questions,” Tortoise threatened. Still no answer. Tortoise slapped the cocoayam foo foo man on his left cheek zwam!!! But the cocoayam foofoo man was sticky. Tortoise’s hand stuck on the man’s cheek.
Tortoise threatened again. “Leave my hand now or I will slap you with my left hand.” There was no answer. Tortoise slapped the man again zwam!!! this time on the right cheek. His left hand stuck on the man’s right cheek. He kicked the man with his legs, and they all stuck on the man’s body. He hit the man with his belly. His belly stuck. He butted the man with his head. His head too was glued on the man’s head. He stayed glued on the man until Mgbafo came back to her house. When Mgbafo saw Tortoise, she screamed.
“So you are my tormentor? This is how you have paid me for giving you food?” Mgbafo took her pestle and hit Tortoise on his head. She then set him free to go. Tortoise ran all the way home. That is why Tortoise’s head is flat. Up to today, Tortoise hides his head in his shell whenever he sees women.
How The He Goat Got Its Smell
Once, there was famine in the land of the animals. Tortoise had nothing to eat for many moons. He was so starved that his bones rattled in his shell. He searched for food everywhere but never found enough to eat.
One day, his search for food took him away from the animal kingdom into the spirit world. He walked for seven days and seven nights. He became so tired that he could not lift his feet to take any further step. He sat under a tree and fell asleep. After a very long sleep, he woke up. He looked into the distance and saw a house that he believed was not there when he fell asleep. Smoke was coming out of the house, so Tortoise decided that whoever lived in that house must be cooking. His heartbeat quickened. His face beamed with a smile. He got up quickly with the little strength that the sight of smoke had put into him, and he dragged himself painfully until he reached the house. He stood on his toes and looked into the house through a window. He saw a man, a woman and a child eating. Tortoise started salivating. He cautioned himself to be careful if he was going to get some of that food. He continued to watch the family as they were eating. He bid his time, waiting for an opportuned moment to go in and steal the food the family was eating. While he was watching this family, he saw that the three people, father, mother, and son were eating in a strange way. At first he was baffled. It was like they were responding to a pattern. The husband will take the food, then the wife and then their son. None missed the sequence of putting their hands into the pot. Tortoise knew that something was wrong, but he could not at first say what. Then it clicked. His eyes opened like there was a big lightning that lit up a dark night. They were all blind. Tortoise’s heart leaped up with joy. He started inching towards the food bowl. When he reached the bowl, he sat next to the man. This was a spirit family, but Tortoise did not know it. The man started sniffing.
“Hm hm pfu hm fpu. I can smell the human world here.”
The wife rebuked him and asked him to continue eating.
“You are always smelling things. No one is here,” the wife said.
Meanwhile, Tortoise sat in the room studying the their rhythm of getting food from the bowl. When he had become used to their rhythm, and their pattern of dipping their hands into the bowl. He joined the family in their meal. He ate and ate until he was full. He stayed around the house for some days and made sure he joined in every meal. The spirits wondered why their food was finishing faster than usual. But since they have a lot of food in the house, they were not worried.
After some days, Tortoise went home. By this time he was looking well nourished and his fleshed has filled his shell. When he got home, other animals did not recognize him at first. He was looking so robust that it took even his closest friend, Cock, time to realize that it was Tortoise. Cock went to Tortoise to find out why he was looking well fed.
“Tortoise my friend,” Cock said, “how is it that you are looking so robust while every other animal is looking so thin? Where have you been for such a long time. I searched for you under the trees, under leaves, in caves, everywhere, but I did not see you. I asked everybody, and no one saw you. Where have you been, and how did you get food enough to bulge in your shell?”
“My friend Cock. I will not tell you. I know that you talk too much. You will give my secret away, and I will get into trouble.” Tortoise was afraid that Cock would tell the other animals and ruin his new source of food.
Cock went home disappointed, but swore to find out Tortoise’s secret. One day, Tortoise was getting ready to leave for the spirits’ house when Cock who was the hardest hit by the famine and was looking like a rag, came to ask Tortoise about his source of food, perhaps for the fiftieth time since Tortoise came back. Tortoise still refused to tell him. But Cock, who hardly missed anything, had noticed that Tortoise was getting ready to go somewhere. He decided to find out where Tortoise was getting ready to go. He pretended to have finally accepted that Tortoise would not tell him.
“Tortoise, just know that we are no longer friends. I will never come to ask you again. If I ever come to ask you, cut off my neck. I will never speak to you again.” He stormed out of Tortoise’s house amidst a big commotion. You think he went home? No. He never went home. The moment he got out of Tortoise’s compound, he took a different route and came back and hid in the shrubs in front of Tortoise’s house. After sometime, Tortoise came out of his house, looked to the left, looked to the right, locked his house, and left. Cock followed. He maintained a distance from Tortoise but still kept Tortoise in sight.
Just as Tortoise was within sight of the spirits’ house, Cock sneezed. He looked behind him and saw Cock. He did not know what to do. He decided to let Cock know that their journey was a dangerous one since they were going to steal from the spirits.
“Cock, now that you have followed me, you have to know that if you are not careful the spirits will kill us. Make sure you keep quiet. I know that your tongue always itches and you are always hungry to talk. This time put your tongue in the scabbard.”
“Tortoise, I swear I will not talk,” Cock assured Tortoise earnestly.
“Watch me and do whatever I do. I will give the sign on what to do. Do you hear me?”
Cock said that he heard. But Tortoise forgot to tell Cock that the family was blind.
They both walked into the house just as the family was about to start eating.
Tortoise watched their rhythm again and joined in the eating. He gave Cock the sign on when to join. Cock was baffled to notice the rhythm. Especially, he was baffled that the family did not see them. Then it dawned on him that the people in the family were all blind. The moment this thought came into his mind, he burst out laughing. Tortoise knew they were in danger and took his head into his shell and hid. The spirit man sent down his spirit sweeper that guards his house. The sweeper usually cut off every head that it came across. It cut Cock’s head, but Tortoise head was inside his shell. The wife of the spirit cleaned Cock and hung his flesh on their fireplace. They would eat Cock for the next day’s meal.
At night, Tortoise went to the fireplace and saw Cock dripping juice. Tortoise put his palm under the meat. Some of the juice dripped into his palm. He licked his palm. It was very tasty. He put his palm again and licked the juice. When he could not control his greediness any longer, he took down Cock’s meat from the fireplace and ate it. The moment he ate the meat, the string of cloth with which Cock’s meat was tied on the rafter above the fire jumped on Tortoise and wound itself round Tortoise’s waist. Tortoise took it form his waist and threw it outside. The cloth jumped back inside and twined itself round Tortoise’s waist again. Tortoise knew that he was in trouble. He ran out of the house and started going home. On the way he kept trying to get rid of the cloth but the cloth kept going back and tying itself round Tortoise’s waist.
In the morning, the spirits woke up and went to check their meat. They did not find it. The spirit man called the cloth, “My cloth., my cloth, where are you?”
The cloth replied, “I am on Tortoise’s waist.”
When Tortoise heard this reply, a great fear gripped him. He urinated all over his legs. He increased his speed. But at every interval, he would hear the spirit calling the cloth and the cloth replying, “I am on Tortoise’s waist.”
Tortoise kept running. With subsequent calls, the spirit’s voice drew nearer and nearer. Tortoise did not know what to do.
Then Tortoise saw He Goat. He Goat was breaking firewood. Tortoise went to He Goat. After exchanging greetings with He Goat, Tortoise said to He Goat, “Why are you naked while breaking firewood? Don’t you know that splinters could fly out of the wood and pierce your testicles. Take this cloth and cover yourself. I do not want to go to a friend’s funeral.”
He Goat had never been Tortoise’s friend. In fact, they had a big fight some moons before. He Goat did not want to accept the offer, but he did not want to offend Tortoise by refusing. So He Goat took the cloth from Tortoise and tied it round his waist. He thanked Tortoise, and Tortoise went on his way. After a while, the spirit called, “My cloth, my cloth, where are you?”
The cloth replied, “He Goat has taken death away from Tortoise.”
He Goat looked around in fear. He thought that he was too tired and must have been hearing something. He listened hard for some time and did not hear anything. He bent down to continue splinting the wood. The call came again. Again the reply came from his waist. He quickly took the cloth out of his waist and threw it away. The cloth came right back to his waist. He took it out again and threw it away. It came right back again. Meanwhile the call was getting closer and closer. He quickly started digging a whole on the ground. When it was deep, he jumped inside and covered himself. He listened. He did not hear the call again. The cloth did not hear the call either. Therefore, it did not give any reply. Unknowing to He Goat, his two horns were jutting out of the ground. The spirit called and called for the cloth but got no reply. As the spirit was walking pass the spot where He Goat hid, he cut his right toe on the horn that was jutting out of the ground. The spirit swore that if whatever it was that cut his toe as he was going does that on his way back he was going to dig it out. The spirit walked and walked and called and called for his cloth. He did not hear the cloth’s reply. When he realized that he was close to the human world, he turned back and gave up the search for his cloth and the thief that ate his food. On his way back, the horn that was jutting out of the ground cut his left foot. He turned around and decided to dig it out. He dug and dug until he dug out He Goat. When he saw the cloth on He goat’s waist he gave his call again, “My cloth, my cloth, where are you?”The cloth replied, “He Goat has taken death away from Tortoise.”
He Goat begged the spirit for mercy. The spirit took his cloth away from He Goat’s waist. But he was not going to leave He Goat to go away without any punishment. He said he would punish He Goat for his stupidity. He urinated on He Goat and walked away. That is why He Goat stinks even today.
While on my return flight from the Ukraine, I had the fortunate experience of sitting next to a lovely woman with a great laugh, Christiana Okechuckwu. She had been-- and continues to be-- working on a project to preserve some of the indigenous Nigerian culture through the publication of their native folklore. Throughout the course of conversation, we both agreed these rich and vibrant stories would translate beautifully on the screen, colorfully animated, for the new information age. As western culture continues to seep into and swallow up less aggressive and older cultures, the preservation of these cultures is an increasingly high priority. (Though it's ironic that even this is being done by westerners.)
If you have an interest in this project in any capacity-- filming, animating, publishing, funding, etc-- or would like to comment, feel free to contact Christiana Okechuckwu via email: inwelleusa@yahoo.com or myself via this blog. Christiana is a professor at Montgomery College and the executive director at the Inwelle Resource Center in Maryland. Following are a example of one of the many folk stories transcribed directly from the village storytellers by Prof. Christiana Okechukwu, published here with her permission.
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Tortoise And The Old Woman
Once, there was famine in the animal kingdom. Hunger was whipping all the animals, big and small, young and old, all of them. All of them, without exception. They were as lean as rakes. Tortoise was so lean that when he walked his bones rattled in his shell. Tortoise could not bear the hunger anymore. He swore that he must do something about his hunger
One day, he went in search of food. He walked for seven days and seven nights. He crossed seven rivers and seven forests. He walked beyond the boundaries of the animal kingdom into the human kingdom. Tortoise walked on the outskirts of the human kingdom because he was afraid of the big humans who would pick him up and put him in their bags. But he was very hungry. He had to find food or he would die. He walked on the outskirts praying that he would come upon a deserted house so that he could steal food and run away. Suddenly, he came upon a small hut that looked deserted. As he was about to leave his hiding and go into the compound, an old woman came out of the house and went to the garden behind the house, cut some vegetables and went back into the house. He hid behind the bushes to observe the house further. He stood behind the bushes and watched the house the whole day, but no one else came to the house except the old creaky woman who kept hopping between her house and her garden. Sometimes, the old woman would sit down and put some tobacco snuff into her nostrils.
“Surely, that old woman must live by herself,” Tortoise said to himself. Tortoise continued to hide in the bushes.
In the evening, the old woman sat down for her supper. Tortoise came out of his hiding and walked tiredly towards the old woman. When he got to the old woman, he slumped on the ground and cried out in a tiny voice “Mother of the good ones please can you spare water for a tired traveler to drink?“Sure my child. Drink as much as you want.”
Tortoise took the cup of water beside the old woman and gulped down the water.“Have you been traveling for a long time?” The old woman asked.
“Yes mother,” Tortoise replied. “I am going to my in-law’s place. I am thirsty and hungry but my hunger can wait until I reach my in-law’s place.”
“ How far is your in-law’s place?”
“ Mother of the good ones, it is only a day’s journey away. That is why stopped for a cup of water I am sure my hunger can wait a day longer, Tortoise replied humbly.
“ My son, you don’t have to wait for another day to eat. There is enough food here for me to share with you. See I cooked too much food, and I am alone. Do sit down and eat with me and tell me all about your travels.”
Tortoise pretended to hesitate. “Night is falling, and I might not reach my in-law’s house before midnight. I have reach his house before midnight so that I do not meet the evil spirits who choose the midnight for their meetings. No, I do not want to meet the spirits on the road.”
“ I have many rooms here. You can sleep in my house if it becomes too dark. It is not often that I get visitors. I am lonely,” the old woman offered good naturedly.
“Since you put it that way,” Tortoise replied, “I will stay and eat and if it becomes too dark, I will sleep and continue my journey tomorrow.”
Tortoise ate and ate until his flesh filled his shell again. He could not get up after the heavy meal. Then he started telling the old woman stories After Tortoise had been telling his travel stories for a while, he said to the old woman, “You know, the world is changing greatly now. Leaves are beginning to talk.”
“Don’t say that,” the old woman screamed in astonishment. I believe all your other stories but I do not believe that dry leaves can talk.”
“One day you will see. Those dry leaves in front of your house under that big tree, you see them, one day they will start talking and even singing, and even dancing. When that happens, run as fast as you can because it shows that a great calamity is coming to visit your house. You have to run away and come back when the dry leaves stop singing. If you stay and see the spirits that are making the leaves sing the whole village will be wiped out by leprosy. Once, it happened in a village I passed through and one inquisitive person stayed behind to find out what was happening and the entire village was wiped out by hunger because rain refused to fall on that village for seven years.”
The woman did not believe Tortoise. The next day, Tortoise said his goodbye and left.
Two days later, the old woman cooked her supper as usual and sat down to eat. Suddenly, she heard someone calling her name “Mgbafo come and see!” She ran into her yard to see who was calling her. She did not see anybody, but she heard singing coming from the heap of dry leaves under the iroko in front of her house. She listened again. Yes it was a song.
Old woman did you say that dry leaves do not talk
Iyagiliya
Old woman did you say that dry leaves do not talk?
Iyagiliya
They are talking now
Iyagiliya
They are singing too
Iyagiliya
They are dancing too
Iyagiliya
They are jumping up
Iyagiliya
Fear gripped the old woman from head to toe. She looked around. There was nobody. She ran as fast as her legs could carry her. When she ran away, Tortoise, who never went anywhere after saying his goodbye, came out of the leaves where he had been hiding for two days and ate up the old woman’s food. When he finished eating, he took spare food to give to his family and went back home to the animal kingdom. When the old woman came back from her hiding place, she found that she had no food to eat. She cooked another supper and ate. She was too tired and her food was not as tasty as the one she lost. She went to bed angry.
Seven days later, Tortoise returned and hid under the leaves again and started singing and dancing again. The woman again ran away and Tortoise did the same thing he did the previous time. The woman came home again and found that her food was gone. This time, the woman was really angry. She decided to seek help from a native doctor. The native doctor’s name was Omenkafulunanya, He who does what the eyes see or omenka for short.
Omenka listened to the old woman’s story. He kept nodding as he listened. When the old woman finished her story, Omenka went into his room and brought out his diviners’ bag. From the bag, he took out his ekpili and threw it on the ground yararam. He shook his head. He put his hand inside his bag again and took out a big lump of nzu. He drew lines on the ground with the nzu. He put his hand in his bag the third time and brought out his oji. He prayed for the ancestors to guide his divination. He broke the oji, took one lobe of the oji and threw it outside inviting the ancestors to partake of the oji saying: “Nnanyi fa taa oji”. Then he chewed a lobe of the oji, cleared his throat loudly and started his divination. At this time, he was looking very fierce with his right eyelids painted white with nzu and the left eyelid painted black with unyi so that he could see the spirits when they come to give him their message. Then he started chanting:
Our ancestors come and reveal to us what is hidden
You know all; we know nothing
He that is greater than his peers is calling you
Ha! ha! ha!Are you coming?
It is I Omenka calling.
My enemies are fighting in vainHa! ha! ha!
You can only go round the pepper tree; you can not climb it
Ha! ha! ha!
I am hearing you.
He that we all know but no one can fathom.
Reveal, reveal, reveal.
Mgbafo wants to know her tormentor
Show her. Show her. Show her.
Omenka laughed in a guttural voice. “Look at it. It is all here.” He turned his ekpili several times. He drew his nzu on the floor. He cleared his throat loudly. He spit loudly on the ground.
“Mgbafo!” he called
Mgbafo answered, “He who does what eyes see.”
Omenka continued. “The spirits said that your tormentor is someone you have been kind to. Do you know any such person?”
Mgbafo had been kind to many people. She would not think of any among them that would want to harm her. She said so.
“Mgbafo!” Omenka continued again. “The spirits said to tell you not to worry. They will take care of everything. Prepare cocoayam foo foo in the evening before the next Eke market. Mold the foo foo to look like a man. On the evening of the Eke market day, leave the molded foo foo in front of your door just before you start eating. When your tormentor sings again, run away as usual. Come back the usual time you came back in the past. The next day come and tell the spirits what happened.”
When Mgbafo got home, she did as Omenka told her. When the leaves started singing and dancing, she ran away. Tortoise came out of his hiding to go and eat Mgbafo’s food as usual. He saw this man standing in front of the door. He stopped for a moment, scared. Then he said to himself “I am a man. Why should I fear this small man?” He walked up to the cocoayam foo foo man and said,
“Who are you?” There was no answer. He asked again
“Who are you. What are you doing here?” Again there was no answer. He asked yet again “Who are you? What are doing here? Do you want to eat? What is your name? Are a man or a spirit?” Yet again there was no answer.
“Don’t you talk?” No answer. Then Tortoise became mad. “If I slap you now you will answer my questions,” Tortoise threatened. Still no answer. Tortoise slapped the cocoayam foo foo man on his left cheek zwam!!! But the cocoayam foofoo man was sticky. Tortoise’s hand stuck on the man’s cheek.
Tortoise threatened again. “Leave my hand now or I will slap you with my left hand.” There was no answer. Tortoise slapped the man again zwam!!! this time on the right cheek. His left hand stuck on the man’s right cheek. He kicked the man with his legs, and they all stuck on the man’s body. He hit the man with his belly. His belly stuck. He butted the man with his head. His head too was glued on the man’s head. He stayed glued on the man until Mgbafo came back to her house. When Mgbafo saw Tortoise, she screamed.
“So you are my tormentor? This is how you have paid me for giving you food?” Mgbafo took her pestle and hit Tortoise on his head. She then set him free to go. Tortoise ran all the way home. That is why Tortoise’s head is flat. Up to today, Tortoise hides his head in his shell whenever he sees women.
How The He Goat Got Its Smell
Once, there was famine in the land of the animals. Tortoise had nothing to eat for many moons. He was so starved that his bones rattled in his shell. He searched for food everywhere but never found enough to eat.
One day, his search for food took him away from the animal kingdom into the spirit world. He walked for seven days and seven nights. He became so tired that he could not lift his feet to take any further step. He sat under a tree and fell asleep. After a very long sleep, he woke up. He looked into the distance and saw a house that he believed was not there when he fell asleep. Smoke was coming out of the house, so Tortoise decided that whoever lived in that house must be cooking. His heartbeat quickened. His face beamed with a smile. He got up quickly with the little strength that the sight of smoke had put into him, and he dragged himself painfully until he reached the house. He stood on his toes and looked into the house through a window. He saw a man, a woman and a child eating. Tortoise started salivating. He cautioned himself to be careful if he was going to get some of that food. He continued to watch the family as they were eating. He bid his time, waiting for an opportuned moment to go in and steal the food the family was eating. While he was watching this family, he saw that the three people, father, mother, and son were eating in a strange way. At first he was baffled. It was like they were responding to a pattern. The husband will take the food, then the wife and then their son. None missed the sequence of putting their hands into the pot. Tortoise knew that something was wrong, but he could not at first say what. Then it clicked. His eyes opened like there was a big lightning that lit up a dark night. They were all blind. Tortoise’s heart leaped up with joy. He started inching towards the food bowl. When he reached the bowl, he sat next to the man. This was a spirit family, but Tortoise did not know it. The man started sniffing.
“Hm hm pfu hm fpu. I can smell the human world here.”
The wife rebuked him and asked him to continue eating.
“You are always smelling things. No one is here,” the wife said.
Meanwhile, Tortoise sat in the room studying the their rhythm of getting food from the bowl. When he had become used to their rhythm, and their pattern of dipping their hands into the bowl. He joined the family in their meal. He ate and ate until he was full. He stayed around the house for some days and made sure he joined in every meal. The spirits wondered why their food was finishing faster than usual. But since they have a lot of food in the house, they were not worried.
After some days, Tortoise went home. By this time he was looking well nourished and his fleshed has filled his shell. When he got home, other animals did not recognize him at first. He was looking so robust that it took even his closest friend, Cock, time to realize that it was Tortoise. Cock went to Tortoise to find out why he was looking well fed.
“Tortoise my friend,” Cock said, “how is it that you are looking so robust while every other animal is looking so thin? Where have you been for such a long time. I searched for you under the trees, under leaves, in caves, everywhere, but I did not see you. I asked everybody, and no one saw you. Where have you been, and how did you get food enough to bulge in your shell?”
“My friend Cock. I will not tell you. I know that you talk too much. You will give my secret away, and I will get into trouble.” Tortoise was afraid that Cock would tell the other animals and ruin his new source of food.
Cock went home disappointed, but swore to find out Tortoise’s secret. One day, Tortoise was getting ready to leave for the spirits’ house when Cock who was the hardest hit by the famine and was looking like a rag, came to ask Tortoise about his source of food, perhaps for the fiftieth time since Tortoise came back. Tortoise still refused to tell him. But Cock, who hardly missed anything, had noticed that Tortoise was getting ready to go somewhere. He decided to find out where Tortoise was getting ready to go. He pretended to have finally accepted that Tortoise would not tell him.
“Tortoise, just know that we are no longer friends. I will never come to ask you again. If I ever come to ask you, cut off my neck. I will never speak to you again.” He stormed out of Tortoise’s house amidst a big commotion. You think he went home? No. He never went home. The moment he got out of Tortoise’s compound, he took a different route and came back and hid in the shrubs in front of Tortoise’s house. After sometime, Tortoise came out of his house, looked to the left, looked to the right, locked his house, and left. Cock followed. He maintained a distance from Tortoise but still kept Tortoise in sight.
Just as Tortoise was within sight of the spirits’ house, Cock sneezed. He looked behind him and saw Cock. He did not know what to do. He decided to let Cock know that their journey was a dangerous one since they were going to steal from the spirits.
“Cock, now that you have followed me, you have to know that if you are not careful the spirits will kill us. Make sure you keep quiet. I know that your tongue always itches and you are always hungry to talk. This time put your tongue in the scabbard.”
“Tortoise, I swear I will not talk,” Cock assured Tortoise earnestly.
“Watch me and do whatever I do. I will give the sign on what to do. Do you hear me?”
Cock said that he heard. But Tortoise forgot to tell Cock that the family was blind.
They both walked into the house just as the family was about to start eating.
Tortoise watched their rhythm again and joined in the eating. He gave Cock the sign on when to join. Cock was baffled to notice the rhythm. Especially, he was baffled that the family did not see them. Then it dawned on him that the people in the family were all blind. The moment this thought came into his mind, he burst out laughing. Tortoise knew they were in danger and took his head into his shell and hid. The spirit man sent down his spirit sweeper that guards his house. The sweeper usually cut off every head that it came across. It cut Cock’s head, but Tortoise head was inside his shell. The wife of the spirit cleaned Cock and hung his flesh on their fireplace. They would eat Cock for the next day’s meal.
At night, Tortoise went to the fireplace and saw Cock dripping juice. Tortoise put his palm under the meat. Some of the juice dripped into his palm. He licked his palm. It was very tasty. He put his palm again and licked the juice. When he could not control his greediness any longer, he took down Cock’s meat from the fireplace and ate it. The moment he ate the meat, the string of cloth with which Cock’s meat was tied on the rafter above the fire jumped on Tortoise and wound itself round Tortoise’s waist. Tortoise took it form his waist and threw it outside. The cloth jumped back inside and twined itself round Tortoise’s waist again. Tortoise knew that he was in trouble. He ran out of the house and started going home. On the way he kept trying to get rid of the cloth but the cloth kept going back and tying itself round Tortoise’s waist.
In the morning, the spirits woke up and went to check their meat. They did not find it. The spirit man called the cloth, “My cloth., my cloth, where are you?”
The cloth replied, “I am on Tortoise’s waist.”
When Tortoise heard this reply, a great fear gripped him. He urinated all over his legs. He increased his speed. But at every interval, he would hear the spirit calling the cloth and the cloth replying, “I am on Tortoise’s waist.”
Tortoise kept running. With subsequent calls, the spirit’s voice drew nearer and nearer. Tortoise did not know what to do.
Then Tortoise saw He Goat. He Goat was breaking firewood. Tortoise went to He Goat. After exchanging greetings with He Goat, Tortoise said to He Goat, “Why are you naked while breaking firewood? Don’t you know that splinters could fly out of the wood and pierce your testicles. Take this cloth and cover yourself. I do not want to go to a friend’s funeral.”
He Goat had never been Tortoise’s friend. In fact, they had a big fight some moons before. He Goat did not want to accept the offer, but he did not want to offend Tortoise by refusing. So He Goat took the cloth from Tortoise and tied it round his waist. He thanked Tortoise, and Tortoise went on his way. After a while, the spirit called, “My cloth, my cloth, where are you?”
The cloth replied, “He Goat has taken death away from Tortoise.”
He Goat looked around in fear. He thought that he was too tired and must have been hearing something. He listened hard for some time and did not hear anything. He bent down to continue splinting the wood. The call came again. Again the reply came from his waist. He quickly took the cloth out of his waist and threw it away. The cloth came right back to his waist. He took it out again and threw it away. It came right back again. Meanwhile the call was getting closer and closer. He quickly started digging a whole on the ground. When it was deep, he jumped inside and covered himself. He listened. He did not hear the call again. The cloth did not hear the call either. Therefore, it did not give any reply. Unknowing to He Goat, his two horns were jutting out of the ground. The spirit called and called for the cloth but got no reply. As the spirit was walking pass the spot where He Goat hid, he cut his right toe on the horn that was jutting out of the ground. The spirit swore that if whatever it was that cut his toe as he was going does that on his way back he was going to dig it out. The spirit walked and walked and called and called for his cloth. He did not hear the cloth’s reply. When he realized that he was close to the human world, he turned back and gave up the search for his cloth and the thief that ate his food. On his way back, the horn that was jutting out of the ground cut his left foot. He turned around and decided to dig it out. He dug and dug until he dug out He Goat. When he saw the cloth on He goat’s waist he gave his call again, “My cloth, my cloth, where are you?”The cloth replied, “He Goat has taken death away from Tortoise.”
He Goat begged the spirit for mercy. The spirit took his cloth away from He Goat’s waist. But he was not going to leave He Goat to go away without any punishment. He said he would punish He Goat for his stupidity. He urinated on He Goat and walked away. That is why He Goat stinks even today.
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