Dance, Nana, Dance / Baila, Nana, Baila
Page 10
El papá diablo vaciló, rascándose la cabeza. Pero la música era tan alegre y tentadora, que no pudo evitar que los pies le bailaran. Al fin corrió junto al tronco donde la hiena lo esperaba. Puso su cabeza en el tronco y la hiena alzó su machete. ¡ZAS!
Se terminó un diablo.
Los tambores apresuraron el ritmo y los otros músicos lo siguieron. Los animales arreciaron las palmadas y el canto:
No baila, no baila.
El que tiene cabeza no baila.
Pronto la mamá diabla comenzó a preguntarse qué andaba haciendo su marido. Siguió el sonido de la música y cuando llegó a la fiesta estaba moviendo las caderas con los ojos puestos en blanco.
—Me encanta esa música—le dijo al gorila—. ¿Qué tipo de fiesta es ésta?
—La del baile sin cabeza—le respondió el gorila, sin mover la cabeza.
—Y eso, ¿qué es?
—Un baile sin cabeza, así como dice la canción—le dijo el gorila—. Si quieres entrar, te tienes que quitar la cabeza.
—Pero mi cabeza no es de quita y pon—le dijo la mamá diabla.
El gorila señaló sobre un hombro y le dijo:—Para eso ve a donde está la hiena. Su machete está afilado y te la puede cortar.
—¿Cortármela, dices?—preguntó la mamá diabla—. ¿Pero quién me la va a volver a poner?
—La rata tiene pegamento—le dijo el gorila.
La diabla se dejó seducir por la música. Bajó el machete de la hiena: ¡ZAS!
Se terminó otro diablo.
Los músicos tocaron tan rápido y los animales cantaron tan alto que el bosque comenzó a temblar.
No baila, no baila.
El que tiene cabeza no baila.
El niñito diablito saltó de la cama y gritó:—¿Quién está armando tanto escándalo?
Luego se fijó en el ritmo de la música y se dijo:—¡Me gusta! Y salió bailando de la casa. Se fue bailando por el bosque hasta llegar a la fiesta.
—Qué buena música tocan ustedes—le dijo al gorila—. Creo que voy a entrar y unirme al baile.
—No puedes—le dijo el gorila, moviendo la cabeza negativamente.
—¿Por qué no?
—Tienes cabeza. ¿No oyes la canción? ¿No ves a los bailadores? Esta fiesta está reservada para los que no tienen cabeza. Si quieres entrar, habla con la hiena. De buena gana te cortará la cabeza.
Al diablito chiquito se le pusieron los ojos como platos:
—¿Me cortará la cabeza?—preguntó.
—¡Claro que sí!—le dijo el gorila—. La rata te la puede volver a pegar cuando te canses de bailar.
El diablito chiquito lo pensó. Luego dijo:—No lo entiendo bien. A lo mejor me lo puedes demostrar.
—¿Yo?—le dijo el gorila—. Yo no sirvo para bailar. Ni sin cabeza lo podría hacer.
—A lo mejor yo tampoco puedo—dijo el diablito chiquito—. Me quedaré un rato aquí escuchando la música. Quizá cuando sea mayor iré a un baile sin cabeza.
Por muy rápido que tocaron los músicos, y por muy alto que cantaron los animales, y por muy desenfrenadamente que bailaron los guanajos, no lograron hacer que el diablito chiquito entrara al baile. Cuando salió el sol, todos los animales se fueron a casa. El diablito chiquito también se fue a la suya.
Las cosas mejoraron bastante en el bosque, ya que el papá diablo y la mamá diabla no estaban. La mayoría del tiempo, los animales vivían libres de problemas y todavía viven así. Pero como los animales no pudieron engañar al diablito chiquito, anda suelto todavía y de cuando en cuando se las arregla para ocasionar algún trastorno. Pero bueno, sin problemas no habría historias que contar.
NOTES TO READERS AND STORYTELLERS
YAMS DON’T TALK
There are many African tales of a harmless animal frightening everyone with loud, threatening talk. Many readers will be familiar with Verna Aardema’s popular picture book Who’s in Rabbit’s House, which is based on a Masai tale. Osain is one of the major Orishas, the “owner” of the woods. He has power over healing plants and herbs, which are called ewe. Traditionally, there is only one Osain. He has one arm, one leg and one ear. It is usually said that he had a quarrel with another Orisha named Changó, who blasted him with a lightning bolt and left him in such a sad condition. This tale was collected and retold by Lydia Cabrera in her book Cuentos negros de cuba (1940). Osain of the Two and Three Feet are not a standard part of Afro-Cuban story lore, but they add an interesting humorous touch to this tale. Several good books about Santería have been written in English by Migene González-Whippler.
THE FIG TREE
This story is related to the well-known Grimms’ tale “The Juniper Tree.” Tales of a plant that speaks or sings to expose a crime appear in almost every collection made in Latin America. Most often, it’s a flute made from a plant growing above the grave that tells of the foul deed. The three golden objects turn up in many, many stories and play a variety of roles in the plot. This telling is based on the three versions of the tale collected by Martha Esquenazi and published in her book Los cuentos cantados en Cuba, with some additions of my own. Interestingly, the third version in Esquenazi’s book is actually a game in which the tale is acted out by the children.
THE GIFT
There is a large body of myths and parables dealing with the Orishas, the deities of the Afro-Cuban religion usually referred to as Santaría, which is a blend of African religion and Catholicism. The stories are given the name patakís. The African elements are mainly associated with the culture of the Yoruba people (in Africa pronounced Yóruba, but in Cuba pronounced with the accent on the second to the last syllable) of present-day Nigeria. The first Cuban to seriously study these stories and many other aspects of Afro-Cuban culture was the great scholar Fernando Ortiz (1881-1969). He wrote the introduction to a collection of Afro-Cuban tales published in 1940 by Lydia Cabrera, Cuentos negros de cuba. This story is based primarily on the tale “Obbara miente y no miente” from that book. Samuel Feijóo also offers a version in Mitología cubana. The theme of the humblest and least regarded proving to be the most worthy has worldwide appeal.
DANCE, NANA, DANCE
Stories about the theft of fire are fascinating. In Native American tradition, it’s often Coyote or Raven who accomplishes this feat. Tales of magic twins seem to abound among aboriginal peoples as well. This story is based on “Los jimaguas” (jimagua is a cubanism meaning twin) in Martha Esquenazi’s Los cuentos cantados en Cuba. She points out that it is unusual among Cuban tales of African origin because the characters are people rather than animals. She also mentions that other versions have been collected elsewhere. The song in the original is longer and Esquenazi transcribes the melody she collected. The trick of siblings or relatives trading places to win an endurance contest, usually a race, is popular and widespread.
THE LAZY OLD CROWS
The idea of someone pretending to be helpless in order to make others provide for them seems to appeal to the folk imagination. Every trickster cycle has at least one example. The tale of a man who pretends to be dead so that he doesn’t have to pay his debts is extremely popular in Latin America, usually with a humorous ending involving the person being mistaken for a ghost. The con man/animal usually comes to a worse end than the ones I give the crows in this tale. In fact, in the original version collected by Samuel Feijóo, the old birds are burned up in the fire. In my retelling, I wanted a gentler ending. I suppose such stories are popular because they teach so well by negative example.
PEDRO MALITO
There are many tales of a lucky charm that backfires, such as the universally known story of “The Fisherman and His Wife,” which I loved as a child. The most extreme example is when a person who has been granted a wish gets frustrated and fumes, “I wish I were dead!” The general pattern of this tale led me to assume that it was of European origin; however, Raouf Mama shares a very similar African tale from his native land of Benin in Why Monkeys Live in Trees. The protagonist of the variant in María del Carmen Victori Ramo
s’ Entre Brujas, Pícaros y Consejos is none other than Pedro de Urdemales, a classic rascal in Spanish folklore. Samuel Feijóo collected the story as “Juan Jaragán y el diablo” and his version is the one most Cubans are familiar with.
BORN TO BE POOR
Tales that deal with the cause of wealth and poverty, success or failure in life, are quite common in Latin American folklore. The eternal question is whether one’s lot in life is the result of fate, luck or hard work. The typical conclusion seems to be the one expressed in this story: If you’re born to be poor, you’re going to be poor. In his collection Latin American Folktales, John Bierhorst includes a story from Argentina in which a king tries without success to lift a man from poverty. Finally a voice speaks to him from a cross hanging on the wall: “No hagas rico a quien yo hice pobre.” On the other hand, Martha Esquenazi draws from this story the idea that if a person convinces himself that he’s bound to suffer poverty or other misfortune, he is indeed going to have that as his lot in life. The retelling is based on her version in Los cuentos cantados en Cuba. This is a good story to have young writers extend. It doesn’t have to end where it does. Maybe there’s a way for the shoemaker’s life to change after all.
YOUNG HERON’S NEW CLOTHES
In the United States, the best-known character from African folklore is Anansi, the trickster spider. Although la jicotea, the turtle, is the more common trickster in Cuba, tales of Anansi occur as well. Martha Esquenazi explains that Anansi belongs to the lore of Ghana and neighboring countries, while the turtle represents cultures of Nigeria and the so-called Slave Coast. In the early part of the twentieth century, Cuba received many Jamaican immigrants and Esquenazi identifies this tale as representative of that community. In this story, Anansi is mentioned only in passing and the real focus is on the Young Heron who falls in love with Anansi’s daughter. I was especially drawn to role of the little brother, which is so human.
WE SING LIKE THIS
I assume a version of this African story was the original inspiration for P.D. Eastman’s popular children’s book Are You My Mother? Margaret Read MacDonald has published a version of the story, as have others. Elvia Pérez includes a retelling in her book From the Winds of Manguito. Her version is based on the tale collected by Martha Esquenazi and published in Los cuentos cantados en Cuba, as is my version. In both the original collected by Esquenazi and in Pérez’ version, the parent herons just abandon the eggs after the female lays them. Esquenazi thought this reflected observation of the birds’ natural behavior. I did a bit of research, however, and learned that herons actually tend their eggs carefully, with the male and female taking turns sitting on the nest. I included that information in my version. The songs in the original are much longer and more complex. Esquenazi, who is a musicologist, transcribes the melodies in her book. I suggest that tellers just make up a simple tune that children can join in on.
BUY ME SOME SALT
Most storytellers will be familiar with the related Appalachian tale “Soap, Soap, Soap” in Richard Chase’s Grandfather Tales or Joseph Jacobs’ version from the British Isles. A picture book offering of a Turkish variant is Just Say Hic by Barbara Walker. I had long wanted to find a variant from Latin America and discovered “El bobo que iba versando” in Feijóo’s Cuentos populares cubanos de humor. I especially like to tell this story to fourth graders. I point out that the story has “automatic memory.” If you remember what the boy says, you’ll remember who he meets up with; if you remember who he meets up with, you’ll remember what they tell him to say. It’s a perfect tale for a beginning storyteller.
THE HAIRY OLD DEVIL MAN
Martha Esquenazi identifies this as a story told by Haitian immigrants. A very similar story appears in Diane Wolkstein’s collection of Haitian tales The Magic Orange Tree. I made no attempt to preserve the original songs which are a blend of Spanish, Haitian Creole, African dialect and onomatopoetic syllables. My change enables the children to participate in the telling, but, of course, it sacrifices much authenticity. Stories of bogey men and devils who carry off young girls are ubiquitous. Often the villain is as much a buffoon as a threat.
COMPAY MONKEY AND COMAY TURTLE
There is no tar baby or muñeco de brea in this story, but it has a lot in common with the best-known of the Br’er Rabbit tales. The most obvious parallel is the turtle’s request to be thrown into the river, just as the rabbit asks to be thrown into the briar patch. Actually, in world folklore that trick is far more often associated with a turtle than a rabbit or any other animal. Martha Esquenazi identifies this as a tale of African origin in her book Los cuentos cantados en Cuba, and Samuel Feijóo recorded an Afro-Cuban version and included it in El negro en la literatura folklórica cubana, but it seems just as likely to have come from Spain. Native Americans in the southwestern United States seem to have adopted a similar story from the Spanish and many variants have been collected in the pueblos of New Mexico. The monkey’s trick of pretending to inadvertently let the suspected thief know where he’s hiding his money is one that shows up all over the world.
YOU CAN’T DANCE
Many Cuban storytellers tell this Afro-Cuban tale. I heard it for the first time at a festival in Santiago de Cuba. It’s obviously a great one for audience participation. Samuel Feijóo collected it from the oral tradition and included it in his books Mitología cubana and El negro en la literatura folklórica cubana. Elvia Pérez includes her version, based on Feijóo, in From the Winds of Manguito. As Margaret Read MacDonald points out in her notes to that book, tales of tricking an evil character into hurting himself are widespread and popular, both in the Old World and among indigenous people in the Americas. Tricks based on a characteristic animal behavior, such as tucking the head under a wing or standing on one foot, are common as well.
JOE HAYES’ bilingual Spanish-English tellings have earned him a distinctive place among America’s storytellers. In 2005, Joe received the Talking Leaves Literary Award from the National Storytelling Network, an award given to members of the storytelling community who have made considerable and influential contributions to the literature of storytelling. Joe began sharing his stories in print in 1982. His books have received many awards including the Arizona Young Readers Award, two Land of Enchantment Children’s Book Awards, and an Aesop Accolade Award. Joe’s books have also been on the Texas Bluebonnet Award Master List three times, and Ghost Fever—selected by Texas school children—won the Texas Bluebonnet Award for 2006-2007, the first bilingual book to achieve that distinction.
MAURICIO TRENARD SAYAGO was born in Santiago de Cuba in 1963. He was raised by his family and society to believe in the power of art to educate and transform the individual and society. This environment strongly influenced him. His goal is to use his work to simplify, exaggerate or change how we see our current realities so that we can make the world a better place. Mauricio came to the United States in 2000 and lives in Brooklyn, making his living as an artist and using painting not only to create new images, but also to explore himself in his new cultural context.
OTHER GREAT BOOKS FROM JOE HAYES
The Day It Snowed Tortillas / El día que nevaron tortillas
Illustrated by Antonio Castro L.
¡El Cucuy!: A Bogeyman Cuento in English and Spanish
Illustrated by Honorio Robledo
Ghost Fever / Mal de fantasma
Illustrated by Mona Pennypacker
The Gum Chewing Rattler
Illustrated by Antonio Castro L.
La Llorona / The Weeping Woman
Illustrated by Vicki Trego Hill
Little Gold Star / Estrellita de oro: A Cinderella Cuento in Spanish & English
Illustrated by Gloria Osuna Perez and Lucia Angela Perez
Pajaro verde / The Green Bird
Illustrated by Antonio Castro L.
A Spoon for Every Bite / Una cuchara para cada bocado
Illustrated by Rebecca Leer
Tell Me a Cuento / Cuéntame un Story: 4 Stori
es in English & Spanish
Illustrated by Geronimo Garcia
Watch Out for Clever Women! / ¡Cuidado con las mujeres astutas!
Illustrated by Vicki Trego Hill
www.cincopuntos.com