Folktales from the Arabian Peninsula

by Nadia Jameel Taibah

  He stopped there and thought to himself, “Bah Bah Bah! I can go back to them and tell them I couldn’t find anything. I would have the whole land to myself. I would have the food, and I’ll have the plants and the water to myself. I will be the king. It will all belong to me. Nobody is going to share the food with me. Nobody is going to boss me around. I will be the king, and this is my kingdom.” He liked his idea very much.

  With the sad news, and sadness on his face, he returned to the tribe. “As far as I traveled, there is nothing but desert and desert and desert. Not even a small stalk or a blade for the cattle to feed on. Don’t go there! Especially to this direction.” Pointing to the south, of course.

  “Don’t go to the south! Trust me. There is nothing over there. More desert . . . and you will get lost. Trust me. Trust me.”

  Well, the tribe was very sad. But they decided to wait for the other two birds to arrive.

  Finally, the other two birds arrived, with happy news and happy faces. They came from the same direction. They came from the south.

  They said with one voice, “Ann . . . ann . . . ann . . . ann. Plenty of water! So soft the grasses there that even a newborn child could rest on them.”

  “Go! Go to this direction. Go to the south! It is SO good over there. It is SO green. And plenty of water.”

  Now the tribe was very confused. The crow said, “Don’t go to the south.” And the other two birds said, “Go to the south.” So they decided to have a vote. And finally they voted to follow the dove and the partridge direction to the place they had described.

  When they arrived to that green land, surprisingly they discovered that the crow was a liar. So after they settled down in their new land, they took the crow to justice. Because of his lie, they painted the crow black all over. And so he remains to this day.

  The dove and partridge they rewarded. They stained the feet of one with festive red henna and lined the eye of the other one with black kohl. Up to this day, you can see that the dove walks on pink feet, and the partridge has beautiful black-ringed eyes.

  THE FOX, THE WOLF, AND THE LION

  One day, a lion, a wolf, and a fox made a pledge. They decided that whatever game they caught they would share. First off, they came across a rat hole. The lion pushed a stick inside it and shook it around. The rat in the hole thought the stick was a snake, and it ran out of the hole. The fox jumped and caught the rat easily.

  They went on, looking for something else to catch. There was a rabbit! The three animals surrounded it, and the lion killed it with one swat of his right hand. Now they had two things to divide.

  Next the three saw a gazelle hiding in some bushes. The three took chase and eventually caught up with it and killed it. They looked at their hunt and decided it was enough and wanted to divide it.

  The lion looked at the wolf and asked, “How do you think we should divide our prey?”

  The wolf said, “You get the gazelle, I get the rabbit, and fox gets the rat.”

  The lion roared angrily, and with one swat of his right hand, he killed the wolf.

  Then the lion turned to the fox. “And how do YOU think we should divide our prey?”

  The fox thought quickly and replied, “The gazelle for your lunch, the rabbit for your dinner, and the rat is a snack for you in between meals.”

  The lion, admiringly, looked at the fox and asked, “Who taught you how to make such fair division?”

  Bowing and backing away, the fox muttered, “I learned it from the wolf.”

  THE ANT AND THE LOUSE

  Here is a cumulative tale that would sound more poetic in Arabic. It has a rather dour ending, but the rhythm of the original would make it fun.

  The ant and the louse

  went up the sand dune.

  They found a little grain.

  They cooked it in a pot.

  The louse wanted to taste it,

  But the ant hit the louse with the cooking spoon.

  The louse cried, “Oh people of the continent! Because I was mistreated,

  Ride on your denying donkey. It denies the bush.”

  The people said, “What defeats you, bush?”

  The bush said, “I am the bush; sheep eat me.”

  “What defeats you, sheep?”

  “I am sheep; knife kills me.”

  “What defeats you, knife?”

  “I am knife; the fire heats me.”

  “What defeats you, fire?”

  “I am fire; rain extinguishes me.”

  “What defeats you, rain?”

  “I am rain; I raise grass.”

  “What defeats you, grass?”

  “I am grass; horse eats me.”

  “What defeats you, horse?”

  “I am horse; the boy rides on me.”

  “What defeats you, boy?”

  “I am boy; death takes me.”

  “What defeats you, death?”

  “I am death; I take you, hug you, and throw you into your mother’s tummy (earth).”

  RIDDLE STORIES

  SIGNS

  A sultan was once approached by a mysterious-acting wise man. This wise man entered the sultan’s court, knelt before the sultan, and proceeded to make strange signs with his hands. No one could understand what he meant by these signs.

  All of the wisest men in the court were called in to observe the stranger’s gesticulations. But no one could understand what he meant.

  The sultan’s vizier was concerned. “Our kingdom’s reputation depends on this one mysterious wise man. All the scholars and all the philosophers that have raised our academic reputation have failed to translate one man’s riddles.”

  The sultan agreed with this assessment of the situation. But he put the problem back in the hands of the vizier.

  “You must search our kingdom for someone who will save us from our precarious situation. Someone who can answer this wise man’s enigmatic signs. And if you do not do it, I swear by the creator of my crowned head, I will have your turbaned one.”

  The vizier rushed out of the palace, desperate to find someone to take the challenge. In the marketplace, he came upon a strange sight. An old man was sitting, surrounded by a crowd, eating hard-boiled eggs, one after the other. There was a whole pile of eggs beside him, and he just kept swallowing without pause. When only one egg was left, he put it in his pocket and started to leave the marketplace. This man’s actions seemed as strange as those of the wise man at the palace. So the vizier decided to bring him to the palace.

  The old man was alarmed when he saw all of the courtiers and soldiers and the sultan himself.

  “This is the man who can solve our predicament?” asked the sultan.

  “Well, show him the riddle,” the sultan commanded the visiting wise man.

  The visitor smiled and nodded. He held out his pointer finger in an upward position. The old man immediately raised his pointer and second finger.

  Then the guest raised his arm toward the ceiling, and his opponent raised his and then swept it down with the other arm. The guest smiled.

  The visitor took out a box and opened it. The old man glanced inside it and saw a small yellow chick and instantly drew out the egg that was in his pocket.

  After this interlude, the wise guest was quite satisfied, for his whole face lit up, happy that someone had understood his meaning.

  “At last you have brought forth a man wise enough to match my challenge,” he said. “Congratulations on the wisdom of your kingdom.”

  When the old man was taken of the court, the sultan requested that his guest explain.

  “Oh, my dear sultan, when I raised my pointer, I of course meant to say, ‘Praised is Allah, the one and only.’ And his reply was to raise his pointer and index, meaning to say, ‘The one who has no partner.’ By lifting my arm, I meant, ‘Praised is he who had raised the sky without columns.’ And he brought his arm down, meaning, ‘And praised is he who has lain the earth over water.’ I took out my chick to say, ‘Praised is he who has
brought the living out of the dead.’ And he took out the egg, my lord, to say, ‘And praised is he who has brought the dead out of the living!’”

  And so saying, the visiting wise man left the court and returned to his own country.

  The sultan laughed so hard at the simplicity of it all, and the court joined him in his relief.

  “Strange how this simple old man outwitted my cultured scholars! Bring him so I can reward him, for he shall be greatly honored.”

  Of course, the poor old man was dismayed to be dragged before the sultan yet again. “What now, my lord? What more do you want from me?”

  “I want to ask you, old man, how you understood my guest’s strange signs?”

  “Oh, you mean that crazy man at your court? He put up one finger to show that he could tear out my old tired eye with his finger! So I put up two fingers to reply that I could tear out both of his with mine! And then he gestured that he could hang me from the ceiling, so I told him that I could toss him down onto the floor! Then, to add more to his malice, he took out his chick to bait me with it, so I told him, ‘So what? I have an egg!’”

  The sultan roared with laughter. Sometimes the very meek are just what is needed to preserve the kingdom’s reputation.

  JOUHA STORIES

  JOUHA AND HIS DONKEYS

  Once Jouha was driving ten donkeys loaded with goods to the city. He loaded up ten donkeys, put them in a line, and counted them out. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

  Then Jouha got onto one of the donkeys and set off for town. But after a while, it occurred to him that he had better look behind and count to make sure all the donkeys were still in line. To his horror he could only see NINE donkeys behind him!

  He got off and checked each donkey carefully. But now there were indeed ten donkeys. Relieved, he got back on his donkey and continued on his way.

  After he had ridden for a way, he realized he should check again to make sure all the donkeys were still following. But, “Oh no!” One was missing again!

  He jumped down and ran back to line them up and check to see which was missing. But there were ten there after all. Such a problem!

  After repeating this several times, it finally dawned on Jouha that every time he RODE on a donkey, one of the others would slip off. So he sighed and got down from his donkey.

  “I will just have to walk,” he decided. “It is better to walk on foot and gain one donkey than to mount and lose one of them.”

  So he walked all the way to town.

  HUMOROUS TALES

  THE POOR LADY’S PLAN

  A long, long time ago, there was an old poor lady who lived in a very poor hut. The only thing she had was an old rug covering the floor of her hut. She had a very wealthy neighbor, the head judge of Mecca town. This poor lady used to go every day to the farmers’ market to trade her own products for food. She had an old sack that she used to carry on her back so she could carry the vegetables from the market. One day, this poor lady came from the market, and she found out that her only rug was not on the floor.

  She said to herself, “I am sure I didn’t move it. Or maybe I sold it and I forgot.”

  While she was looking around for the rug, she noticed that the rug was rolled up in one of the dark corners of her poor hut. Well, she was surprised. She was sure that she had not cleaned her house for a long time. And all of the sudden she noticed big filthy shoes coming out of the rug.

  “My dear Allah,” she thought, “here is a burglar, and I am an old lady, ALL ALONE BY MYSELF. Now if I tried to run away, he would definitely catch me. If I screamed, nobody is going to hear me before he comes out and kills me.”

  The old poor lady kept thinking and thinking. She was so terrified.

  Finally, she arrived at this brilliant idea: “Mmmm . . . I will bring my drums and start singing with a loud voice, like I am having a party.” So she started singing with the old sack filled with vegetables on her back.

  Ajoza fi dahraha bostan ya rabee kelkata alrahman.

  Ajoza fi dahraha bostan ya rabee kelkata alrahman.

  Ajoza fi dahraha bostan ya rabee kelkata alrahman.

  (Which means, an old lady with garden on her back, and that is Allah’s creation.)

  At that moment, the servant of the judge’s family was depluming and cleaning a goose for lunch by the kitchen window. She heard the voice of the old poor lady.

  “Since I started working at the judge’s family, I have not been able to have any fun,” the servant thought. “It has been a long time since I attended any parties, singing or dancing. I am just going to join the old lady and have some fun.” She left everything, the goose, the cooking, and she went to sing and dance.

  Kunt Bantuf Alweza we jet Anhazalli Hazza.

  Kunt Bantuf Alweza we jet Anhazalli Hazza.

  Kunt Bantuf Alweza we jet Anhazalli Hazza.

  (Which means, I was depluming the goose, and I came to dance.)

  The singing became a little louder.

  The judge’s wife was just finishing her cup of coffee, and she needed more. So she called the servant to bring her more coffee.

  “Hey, servant, servant, servant!” With a loud voice she shouted, but nobody answered.

  On her way to the kitchen, looking for the servant, she heard singing voices coming from the old lady’s hut. She looked from the window and saw the two ladies. The servant and her neighbor were singing and dancing. The wife felt very sorry about herself.

  “Since I got married to this judge, I have not been able to attend any weddings or parties,” the wife thought. “I need to go with them to sing and dance. Let us have some fun! Who needs to eat or drink?”

  Sebt Alqahwa wa Alfinjan We Jeet Arqos Fi Almeedan.

  Sebt Alqahwa wa Alfinjan We Jeet Arqos Fi Almeedan.

  Sebt Alqahwa wa Alfinjan We Jeet Arqos Fi Almeedan.

  (Which means, I left the coffee and the cup and came to dance in the field.)

  The singing became much louder.

  It was time for the judge to come home for lunch. He knocked at the door, calling for his wife or the servant. But nobody was there.

  “That is strange,” the judge said. “Where is everybody? Hey, lady! Hey, servant!”

  Nobody answered, so he went to the kitchen, following the loud singing voice. He saw from the kitchen window his wife, the servant, and the old lady singing and dancing.

  “Since I became the judge of Mecca, I have not been able to have some time off to myself,” the judge grunted. “I really forgot how people sing or dance. I am just going to go and have some fun, singing and dancing with my wife. Losing respect for a while is not really a big deal.”

  So he went wearing his own kaffieh (head cloth), singing with his hoarse voice:

  Ana Alqadi Bi emmati Wa Jeet Arqos Maa’ meerati.

  Ana Alqadi Bi emmati Wa Jeet Arqos Maa’ meerati.

  Ana Alqadi Bi emmati Wa Jeet Arqos Maa’ meerati.

  (Which means, I am the judge with my kaffieh who came to dance with my wife.)

  The burglar heard the voice and the identity of the last singer. He got frightened, rolled himself out of the rug, and tried to run as quickly as possible.

  But the old lady started screaming, “A burglar, a burglar!”

  The judge was faster. He caught the burglar and put him into jail! The old lady’s plan worked very well.

  MAGICAL STORIES

  THROW YOUR PUMPKIN AND PICK ME UP

  There was once a house where a woman and her loving daughters lived. And those daughters would beg their mother every time she prepared to leave for the marketplace to get them a pumpkin, for their hungry mouths were watering for some pumpkin stew. But the woman would forget each time she went, and they would be sorely disappointed. The one time she remembered, however, was on a hot sunny day.

  The marketplace was busy and colorful, with all sorts of foodstuffs. When finally her arms were loaded with household groceries, she spotted, from faraway, a man selling one large plu
mp-looking pumpkin, just the thing she needed to treat her girls with. After she approached and paid for it, she discovered how heavy it was. Pull and drag as she might, that pumpkin was the heaviest thing she’d ever carried. She eventually lifted it along with her groceries, but it was the hardest feat.

  On her way home, she was stopped on the dirt path by an old dark-skinned man who clutched her robes as if he would never let go.

  “Throw your pumpkin and lift me up, mother,” he said.

  “What? What madness is this? You want me to carry you when I could hardly lift the pumpkin?” she demanded.

  “God be kind to you. Please throw your pumpkin and pick me up!” he begged again, while the astounded woman continued to refuse.

  The pedestrians on the narrow street all gathered around and took pity on the old man.

  “Can’t you find it in your heart to give him his wish?” they said to her.

  When she found that she was compelled to please the old man, she did indeed lift him up onto her back, and God knows how she managed to carry pumpkin, vegetables, old man, and all. The trip took twice as long as it should have taken, and she only got home to her worried daughters, who were sitting anxiously by the lookout window to watch for her arrival, when the muezzin called for late noon prayers.

  On her doorstep, she dropped the old man with a great groan, for her poor back was thoroughly abused.

  “Here, now, I’ve reached my doorstep. Please leave to your own business, old man.”

  “No. You must open your door and take me inside.”

  “What catastrophe is this?” the woman asked, more to herself than to anyone else. “Pray that Allah rid you of the devil and leave me be.”

  But he proved to be quite obstinate. He shook his dark, ancient head and refused to budge from her doorstep and refused to let her leave him unless she let him inside.