The legend of the Festa de Sant Medir

La Festa de Sant Medir - Fiesta de San Medir is an annual festival every 3rd March in Vila de Gracia area of the Gracia district of Barcelona. It is fondly known as the "La festa més dolça" - "the Sweetest Festival" because of the 100 tons of sweets that are given away every year during the colourful Sant Medir parade. There are various activities, but the biggest event is the evening parade through Gracia. The parade groups (colles) gather on various streets in the "Vila de Gracia" area, the old part of Gracia, then join the procession of horses, carts and lorries down Gran de Gracia to the "Jardinets de Gracia" - "little gardens of Grácia." This is the open area between at the top end of Passeig de Grácia after Av. Diagonal and before Gran de Gracia starts. The evening finishes with a fireworks display. Find parade information links further down this page.

The legend of the Festa de Sant Medir or Sant Emeriterio in Spanish, is about a farmer who became a Catholic Saint in Roman times during the persecution of Christians.

The modern day festival started in 1830 when a baker called Josep Vidal i Granés, who lived in the newly opened street Gran de Gracia. He fell very ill one year and vowed that God would cure him, he would make a annual pilgrimage to the hermitage of his patron saint, Sant Medir.

The hermitage still stands just outside Barcelona on the way to Sant Cugat, where Josep Vidal was originally from. To make public his pilgrimage he would bang a drum and hand out sweets. This was very festive and every year more and more friends and neighbours joined him and this became the first "colla" of the Sant Medir festival. A "colla" is the Catalan name for a group or club.

Today there are thirty "colles" who participate and organise the annual event in the  assocation called "La Federació de Colles de Sant Medir"  - "the Confederation of Sant Medir Colles." The confederation was formed in 1926.

The legend of the Festa de Sant Medir or Sant Emeriterio in Spanish

This popular tradition comes from an important legend that has been passed on from one generation to another. The legend is situated approximately in 300 after Christ and talks about a young peasant called Medir, who lived in a small town near to Barcelona during the Roman Empire of Diocletian. This emperor persecuted fiercely the Christian congregation and ordered to capture the bishop Severe.

The bishop Severe escaped and run away to Sant Cugat. In the way he found the young peasant Medir, who was planting broad beans and who wanted to help the bishop because of his own beliefs. But the bishop told him that the most important is faith and truth and that the peasant should not lie if anyone asked him about Severe.

Soldiers passed by the place where Medir was planting broad beans and asked to him about the bishop. Medir followed the bishop’s advice and said to the soldiers that he saw the bishop to run away while he was planting broad beans, and added that the soldiers could find the fugitive if they went along the road.

As soon as Medir told the truth, a miracle happened: the broad beans that Medir had just planted grew up suddenly and flowered very quickly. Frightened by this event, the soldiers captured Medir and martyred him and the bishop, who was also captured a little bit later.

From then on, when people celebrate Sant Medir, they throw candies and sweets which symbolise the broad beans, for reminding everybody the miracle.

The legend of Mare de Déu del Vinyet (Sitges)

Once upon a time in the current sanctuary of Mare de Déu del Vinyet in Sitges, it was a vineyard of a very rich and important family called Can Milans dels Ferrers. In their fields they had slaves to cultivate. One day, a slave was digging a vine when he saw an image of the Virgin and he took it thinking it was a doll or a toy because he had never been to a mass. When the slave arrived at home he didn’t find the image. The next day when he was digging in the field, he found the image of the Virgin and he took it to home again. When he was at home he didn’t find it, the image came back to the vineyard. At the third day the Virgin appeared and the slave took the image again. When he was at home again, he talked with his master and he explained to the slave that it was the image of the God’s mother. Finally, they built a church to venerate God’s mother. The church was called Mare de  Déu del Vinyet because the farm’s name was Vinyet.

The Blue Charm of Nazar Boncugu

At almost every stages of human history, man has looked for the assistance of magic objects, called talismans to defy evil forces.Talismans with letters, numbers or abstract signs have survived to those days. Even the modern religions with a single god have their own symbols. One of these symbols we find in almost every culture and faith for thousands of years...

Horus' Eye

It's the figure of eye, the blue eye Nazar Boncugu.

Called "Nazar Boncugu" in Turkey, the Nazar, also known as the Evil Eye Stone is a talisman meant to ward off evil and provide protection to the wearer in all aspects of their life. Why is most interesting is that it isn't a folk thing or a rare sighting to see someone wearing it, but it is a prevalent part of Turkish culture. Turkish talisman Nazar Boncugu, is an object which you believe has magic powers to protect you or bring you good  luck.Turkish people believe that it absorbs bad energy coming from evil eyes.

Usualy noone leaves Turkey without purchasing a blue and white nazar boncugu (evil eye charm). You can find them everywhere in Turkey.

Legend said Nazar is something who protects you from "bad luck". Bad luck translates into evil or harm wished upon you from another. People believes that the Evil Eye is a curse, given intentionally or unintentionally by someone else.

The one who bestows the curse is said to look upon, and soon to be afflicted by a person with an evil look, and misfortune will come to those caught in the gaze. Nazar are often given as gifts to friends who have just a baby, or moved into a new house, though sometimes they are given to foreigner as protection during their stay in Turkey.

The people of Turkey are very caution about the Evil Eye, and so, sometimes, one Nazar isn't enought.

It was believed in the ancient times that Tengri Ulgen, god of the skies in Central Asia, would sit in those skies and protect the people from evil. It was for this reason that people considered the colour of the blue skies to be sacred.

When a child is born, an evil eye is pinned to the garment on his or her right back shoulder for protection from other people's evil wishes. No place of business or home is without one. They come in many styles, from simple to ornate. Usually, they are made of glass but also can be made of plastic.

Everywhere you go you will find people wearing the strange amulet; earings, bracelets, necklaces, anklets, charms in all sizes adorn people, their homes, cars and even children in order to protect them from the Evil Eye.

Nazar talismans in the Muslim world are named as "the hand of mother Fatma/Fadime" or, in certain realms of Christianity, as "the hand of Virgin Mother". These hands are nazar beads converge at one place: Egypt.

The Maiden Fair on Găina Mountain

Saint Ilie day traditions

http://www.romania-insider.com/archives/4179

The Romanian Orthodox Church celebrates prophet Ilie on July 20. One of the most important prophets in the Old Testament, Saint Ilie is celebrated as a miracle worker and the one that brings rain during a drought period.

His name comes from the Jewish Elijah, which translates as ‘Whose God is Jah(ve)’, and from the Greek and Latin Elias. In Arabic, the same name is Ilias.

The Romanian tradition labels Saint Ilie as the guardian of crops. It is the popular belief than when it rains with thunders and other spectacular meteorological phenomenons on Saint Ilie’s day, the saint is crossing the skies with his chariot of fire, to protect the living.

According to statistics, there are 120,000 Romanians who celebrate their name day on July 20 (out of a total of around 22 million inhabitants).

It is on Saint Ilie that Romanian peasants are supposed to take the first apple and grape crops and when bee keepers harvest honey for the first time during the year. This day marks the middle of the summer for shepherds, who would come down from the sheep yards to villages for the first time during the year.

The Maiden Fair on Găina Mountain

This is also the period of time when a traditional event takes place in Alba county, on Găina Mountain, in the Apuseni Mountains, a tradition going back two centuries ago. It is called the "Maidens Fair on the Găina mountain" ("târgul de Fete de pe Muntele Găina"), which resides in a traditional matchmaking for young maiden looking for husbands. They would come with their parents and they would display their dower in hand-painted wooden hope chests. The fair also includes a sale of traditional products, like agricultural tools, as well as a banquet with Romanian folk music. The maiden Fair was registered by the Alba county as a trade mark.

THE LEGEND OF THE MAIDEN FAIR ON THE GĂINA MOUNTAIN

Somewhere, a long time ago, both people and gods were sharing the sky and the land, the light and the darkness, the joy and the pain. That is why, up there, at the foot of the clouds, below the holy tear of the sunrise, rolled like a cup of gems over the face of the Mountain which is guarding a bunch of wooden, bricked and stoned houses, lived the “mountaineers”, living pillars of the blue sky wrapping in snow its hidden paths, the roads, the valleys, the woods, with their small horses. There, a small hen had its shelter, making golden eggs and all the “mountaineers” were wondering and wondering and they started to protect her and to devote to thoughts , deeds and songs.

For their golden egg hen they could kill and she was safe from one season to another. Only once a year the “mountaineers” could see her face, her lonely and enigmatical image with her wings open over the vastness.

On the day of the St. Ilie the “mountaineers” were gathering like the rivers in the same bed to tell each other their problems, their hopes and dreams, to offer their children a chance to meet, to fall in love and to propose their hearts to join forever, in marriage. The hen used to descend from her unseen shelter placed on the top of the Mountain. She used to approach the young ones and waving her wings ones she turned into a charming goddess which was approaching the newly married couples with a golden egg in her hands, offering it for happiness and long life. Both people and Mountain were applauding, praying and giving thanks. In the sound of their applause the goddess raised her hands to the sky and turned back into a Hen, hiding herself from the mortals eyes. So the seasons found them, thus starting a habit of faith and love. That’s why, that proud mountain who’s peaks are covered with white clouds, in a height of more then 1500 m was named and forever will be, “The Găina Mountain”.

But the peace, quite and harmony was broken by thoughtless eyes who have forever been trying to discover the nest of the golden Hen and to steal her golden eggs. And finally, with evil’s help, they succeeded. The hen had left her shelter for another festival, on the shoulder of another mountain, having as a purpose the peace of mind of the inhabitants, and some unexpected visitors together with that ruthless man violently searching the nest took the eggs, hid them under his shirt and ran away.

Coming back home and discovering the theft, the goddess was very unhappy and with bitter heart she decided to leave the place forever. She rose her hands high up in the sky, turned into a hen and flew, unseen, to another mountain. And that mountain was at Rosia Montana.

The people mourned her, bagged her to go back to them but the miracle did not happened. Gaina mountain remained behind with barren peaks, haunted by rains, wild winds and snows, by tears and legends. People come to meet the mountain as often as they can, hoping they will be able to tame, to quench its patience, harmony and longing.

They say, the thief that had stolen the eggs fell into a deep strait and the eggs were lost into the depth. They become springs of water or torrents – the crack can be seen today covered by clouds. The Apuseni Mountains and the people living there have been suffering ever since.

The story of the bread of Pecica

The Romanian welcome with bread and salt

The bread and salt have a symbolic meaning: they comprise the Romanian way of saying, "welcome in my house". So, this is a Romanian welcome greeting  ceremony, a traditional custom expressing hospitality, showing that the guest is welcomed.

It is not commonly practiced during daily life. Often, besides bread and salt, Romanians offer also a glass with traditional home-made alcohol, țuica.

Salt has been used in different ways since the beginning of civilization. Salt has been used by Romanians in different traditional rituals as a fortune teller or to protect people, animals and places, having a purifying role. Salt is used even today in other rituals at weddings or child birth to protect or to cleanse. Parts of the rituals have been changed or modernized, some of the meanings have been lost, the roots being found only in remote villages or in the memories of some old storytellers.

The Bread of Pecica - a national brand

Have you notice the bread? If not, take a look :

It's a very special bread.  Why? Because ... it is the best Romanian bread baked on the Romanian traditional earth oven. The people from Pecica are known for wheat and bread. "Pecica" means in Slavic language, "oven", which shows that the people from these places put high value on wheat and the bread which comes out of it. The bread from Pecica is made, for decades,  by the same secret recipes. Somebody tried to find some of the secrets of Pecica's bread, of course without any result because the people from Pecica not share the recipe with "non-s-of their" :) It's a very good kept secret. The people of Pecica  inherit the secret recipes from generation to generation, because they are convinced that in this way they can bring prosperity to their families. Pecica's bread is also famous because it is made out of high quality wheat, because  Pecica is the best land in Plain of Arad.  The round bread and the folded bread are backed directly on the traditional earth oven - brick kilns. Bakers say they use an ancient recipe: the bread is baked only in wood fired brick ovens made by Gypsies. It takes several hours (more than 5 hours) until the oven is heated; meanwhile, the backers knead the dough, and after that the dough have to yeast. After that , the fire from the oven is extinguished and the dough is backed. The flour is made in the area, while the yeast is homemade and preservatives free. Bread can stay fresh for ten days if it is kept in a cool room. The famous bread of Pecica  reached until 1989, to Bucharest for the presidential food for the former dictator Nicolae Ceausescu. A team of former security services take every morning ten breads, which were tasted by a taster, to not be poisoned. Bread was transported to the capital city Bucharest by plane. Recently, Pecica's bread was taken even in European Parliament  by a member of European Parliament from Arad. Pecica's bread might be the second Romanian traditional product to be protected in the European Union.

Each summer, on August 15th, in Pecica is a great celebration in honor of  bread - The New Bread Feast.

It is said that who did not eat bread from Pecica it means that has not yet tasted a real bread. 

The Merry Cemetery

It is quite fascinating to witness the courage of those who do not fear death!  Fascinating for the trust that they place in God, their faith in a happy After Life, and the power that they gain upon life when they laugh in the face of death. One of the very few places in this world where this bold attitude is truly represented is Sapanta village, in Maramures. It even boasts the clever and suggestive name: the Merry Cemetery.

The colored crosses, painted in a popular manner and comprising many symbols, were conceived by Stan Patras, a local craftsman who made the first one in 1935. For 50 years the master and his apprentices transformed oak wood into beautiful crosses that still enchant visitors. But the artist didn’t stop there. Instead, he took care that every cross should have an “epitaph”: a short poem written in the first person, and full of archaic and regional words. These epitaphs made for an ironical testimony for the life of the deceased. Lines like „Here is my place to rest/Stan Ion was my name/Since I was a little one/I preferred to stay at home/Something more I did enjoy/Drinking brandy and be joy” are written on all of the crosses from this cemetery. Their continuity and beauty transforms the place into a real museum.


When she dies, 69-year-old Todosia Pop wants to be remembered as a diligent weaver, a singer in the church choir and a mother of two children. In this remote Romanian village, that might be possible.

Here in Săpânța, residents are memorialized at the local cemetery with crosses featuring humorous rhymes and caricatures depicting scenes from their lives. The tradition, introduced by local carving master Stan Ioan Patras in the mid-1930s, has earned the Sapanta graveyard the nickname “the merry cemetery.” Today it is more open-air museum and pilgrimage site than place of mourning. Scores of tourists join villagers to remember the dead in a joyful way.

All of Sapanta’s recent history is illustrated on the striking oak crosses: industrious men tending to sheep herds, driving tractors, working in warehouses and making hay. Most women, dressed in folk costumes, are seen weaving traditional woolen blankets, picking fruit and running household errands. There are also a select few who stand out because of their professions: the teacher, the priest, the bartender, the policeman and the veterinarian.

The dead get to speak for themselves in simple verses in the first person, oftentimes full of deliberate grammatical errors and regionalisms. For posterity they name their accomplishments in life and also lament their sorrows.

This epitaph, on a cross from 2006, belongs to 82-year-old Toaderu, son of Vasaiu:

“Ever since I was a boy
I loved horses with great joy.
I was a hard-working man
And made a fortune with them.
I also duly helped my grandchildren
But in turn they were like villain
They didn’t mourn me one bit
And didn’t visit this pit.
Just my granddaughter God bless
For she laid me here to rest!”

Further down, a man curses some “bad Hungarians” who beheaded him while he was in the fields looking after his sheep. Several other crosses stand upon empty graves marking the deaths of soldiers who died in far-away battles. In recent years, as many Sapanta residents have moved to other European Union countries for work, epitaphs have told of their adventures abroad.

On one famous cross, a three-year-old girl pours out her anger over the way her life ended so abruptly:

“Burn in hell, you bloody taxi
That came from Sibiu.
Of all the places in this country
You had to stop right here.
By my house you hit me so
And sent me to the death below
And left my parents full of woe.”

This cemetery is unique in all the world. Nowhere in the world is there such a place as this Merry Cemetery. The legend goes back to Dacians belief of the inmortal soul. It could be possible to associated The merry cemetery with the cult of Zalmoxis, with the belief that death is just a passage to a better life and also with the tradition of Celtic “happy death”. Sounds great, but what do you do when you realise that it was only in 1935 when Stan Ioan Patras carved the first cross?

Following your questioning mind, you start looking for answers. You soon find out that the typical cross from Sapanta is indeed an innovation introduced by Ioan Stan Pătraş in 1935 when he began personalising funerary crosses by carving epitaphs. These short witty or satirical poems reconstruct the identity of the deceased, offering us information about his/her life. Some are sad, telling of lives tragically ended by accidents or illnesses, some are funny

One famous epitaph reads:

"Underneath this heavy cross
Lies my mother in law poor
Had she lived three days more
I’d be here and she would read
You that are passing by
Try not to wake her up
For she comes back home
She’ll bite my head off
But I’ll act in the way
That she will not return
Stay here my dear
Mother-in-law."

Another interesting grave shows a former local communist leader holding up the red hammer-and-sickle symbol and his epitaph ironically reads:

"Here I rest
My name is Holdiş Ion
As long as I lived in the world
I loved the [communist] party
And I strived
To please the people."

It is the vivid blue that makes this cemetery look so lively. Some say Patras used blue for the background of his crosses because it symbolises hope and freedom; or because it represents spiritual awareness, healing and peace. Some say it’s the radiant blue of heaven where souls of the deceased depart after death, while others even talk about the vivid blue known today as “Sapanta blue” as reflecting images of devotion, truth and wisdom. Well, when the craftsman himself was asked about what inspired it, he replied plainly: “the sky”.

Introducing funeral inscriptions and including images to reproduce characteristic scenes of the deceased’s life, are indeed Patras’ innovations, but none of the means he uses are new: he exploited the traditions of local poetry, painting and architecture.

Carved and painted crosses are not Patras’ invention, as they can be found at the entrance of settlements and road junctions in many parts of Romania; the geometrical, floral decorations, and cosmic motifs, the serpent stripe, and the colours he used in his naïve painting are all inspired by the tradition of icons on glass and the textile dying of the area (carpets and folk costumes). The epitaphs are not his invention either, as their prosody is that of all local folk poems (ballads, Christmas carols and laments); also, as part of the funeral practices, the choir leader was supposed to compose a short poem in the name of the deceased to thank those who supported him during his life. This may have been the source of inspiration for his epitaphs as well as the two-three night wake. He made good use of the local popular art and of all means of expression available to him; his innovation consists of transferring local poetry and naïve painting into wood, and intuitively allowing the funeral cross to serve as the support for the epitaph celebrating life.

Patras hired apprentices to succeed him and he carved his funerary self-portrait in traditional dress. His inscription reflects the fact that he had to support his family from a young age after his father died:

"Ever since a little boy
I was called Stan Ion Patras
Please listen to me good folks
What I say are not lies
All the days that I lived
I never wished ill for anyone
But all the good that I could
To whoever asked for it
Oh this poor world of mine
So hard was my life in it."

It is fair to associate The merry cemetery (a fairly recent innovation) with local pre-Christian beliefs; it may have deep roots in the in belief that the soul is not mortal, as the Dacians believed “that they do not die, but that he who perishes goes to the god Zalmoxis”. People’s short stories like short fables, tragic stories are told with humor. This is what this place is about & what makes it unique is making fun-smiling about the end, our end & adding humor where usually there is only tears, pain & black. Walking between crosses & graves, reading & smiling, met the person who is buried there, connected through the text from the cross for him/her & his/her family transformed the cemetery walking into a peripatetic walk & deep transformative experience. Death is part of our lives. How we relate to it is part of our life journey.

http://www.globalpost.com/dispatch/europe/100618/romania-travel-sapanta-merry-cemetery

The legend of the three Fates

The three Fates are good fairies. They are a special kind of fairies, who come three days after the baby is born and foretell his/her future (baby’s destiny). 

The legend says that Alexander the  Great  had in his possession life-giving water. The water got stolen by three female servants who drank it. From that moment on, they became immortal and God made them foretell people’s lives.

The fates

fragment from Musat and the fates, by Mihai Eminescu

Three white shadows from the dark emerge
Whispering as they go by,
Arround the cradle they converge.

Raising their hands towards the sky,
Like bending in the wind, so light,
Cast spell to fall asleep the child nearby.

They’re fates who, using their insight,
Convey, like ancient magi,
To the sleeping child, his life’s design.

Of all their gifts, none him deny,
As faint rays of light, divine,
Spring from their mesmeric eyes and fly.

Belief in fate, in their power to construct fate of each man was and still is widespread and entrenched among the Romanian people, being inherited from the Romans. There are three fairies that come in so-called odd nights (3, 5, 7) of the first week of newborn child's life to fortell the child's future destiny.They say that in ancient times, even the midwives who look after the newborn child could fortell newborns' destiny. Unfortunately, because midwives have confided this secret, nowadays they no longer have that gift.

In Transylvania there is still the tradition, as the midwife who helps the child's birth, even though he was born in hospital, to put in the room where the child sits, a white new one linen, a bowl with flour, salt, a bread, a penny and a wool beat . After 3 days and 3 nights if the 3 fates arrived, the midwife and parents will see the trace of fate on flour.

In Banat, Moldova and Wallachia at 3 days after birth, the family prepare a big meal for the 3 fates: bread, a chicken, wine, and three pennies, because they have the belief that they must be well feasting and well paid to fortell a   good fate for the newborn.

In Greece, the fates (Moirai) have the subtle but awesome power of deciding a man's destiny, too. Those three fates are the daughter of the goddess of Necessity, Themis. They are also called the Moirai to denote their descent from Moira, the original goddess of Fate. They are not to be confused with the Furies, who are the daughters of Nyx (Night). They laugh at our feeble attempts to cheat them because they always prevail. They are also known as the Moiras or Keras.They are often confused with the Roman goddesses, the Morae.They assign a man to good or evil. Their most obvious choice is choosing how long a man lives. There are three Fates. Clotho, the spinner, who spins the thread of life. Lachesis, the measurer, who choses the lot in life one will have and measures off how long it is to be. Atropos, she who cannot be turned, who at death with her shears cuts the thread of life.

The Fates are old and predate the gods. It is not entirely clear how far their power extends. It is possible that they determine the fate of the gods as well. In any case, not even the most powerful is willing to triffle with them.

Nasreddin Hodja

Nasreddin Hodja (Hoca) is a 13th century Turkish personage who is believed to have lived in Aksehir in south-central Turkiye. About 400 handwritten manuscripts that narrate anecdotes demonstrating his quick wit and wisdom have survived. Hodja was clearly a beloved character whose advise and opinion were solicited and respected by the town people. They also loved to test his wit by playing mischievous games on him or by asking him absurd questions. Hodja was often victim to the practical jokes of children and adults, who wanted to see how he would get himself out of trouble. But Nasreddin Hodja, to the delight of his fellow villagers, was never stumped to deliver a witty one-liner.

Nasreddin Hodja

Hodja, so-called for his wisdom (in Turkish "hoca" means both teacher and religious leader, both of whom are supposed to be knowing men), was sometimes an imam, leading prayers and other religious ceremonies, and sometimes a kadi, resolving local disputes. But he was, first and foremost, a small farmer who had a few live stock and a small land to cultivate. He is hard- working and honest, however, he is not immune to little cheatings every now and then. He is often poor. He and his family live very modestly, and from time to time they even suffer from abject poverty where there is no food or fire to keep them warm. Nasreddin Hodja is willing to do any job to support his family. Though times make him sarcastic, but he maintains his sense of humour and optimism.

General characteristics of Nasreddin Hodja’s personality

From his anecdotes and the information of the resources,it is possible to evaluate his character like this:

a)Hodja has a wise character.He is aware of all the religious and exact sciences of his time.He educates himself by taking courses from the famous wise men.

b)At the same time,he is a social man.He not  only  takes  and  gives  courses  in  the madrasahs but also he takes place in several aspects of life and events. He continues his educating job without taking  class distinctions into consideration.That’s why it’s always possible to see Hodja in mosques, in madrasahs,in cafes,with statesmen,in the fields or gardens.

c)Hodja is in an observing mood of the social structure even if he is not the hero of the events.

d)Thinking is one of his most important characteristics. He also goes on his thinking on the subjects of metaphysics such as life,death,fate etc.

e)He has a significant prestige over public and the administrators.He is so valued and respected that everybody consults him in any kind of situation. Therefore,he is in the position of either a teacher or a consultant.

e)The reason why he is so much accepted by his society and the following centuries is that he displays his wise with a smiling face,his soft speech and also his intelligence.This manner is both related with his personality and religious beliefs.

f)His most important characteristics are his waggery and ready replies.However,it is not true to see him as a funny man because in order to make one laugh,you must thin and make others think!While reading or listening to his anecdotes , our first reaction is smiling but after that, there comes a thinking time

Tales from Nasreddin Hodja

The Smell of Soup and the Sound of Money

A beggar was given a piece of bread, but nothing to put on it. Hoping to get something to go with his bread, he went to a nearby inn and asked for a handout. The innkeeper turned him away with nothing, but the beggar sneaked into the kitchen where he saw a large pot of soup cooking over the fire. He held his piece of bread  over the steaming pot, hoping to thus capture a bit of flavor from the good-smelling vapor. Suddenly the innkeeper seized him by the arm and accused him of stealing soup.

"I took no soup," said the beggar. "I was only smelling the vapor."

"Then you must pay for the smell," answered the innkeeper.

The poor beggar had no money, so the angry innkeeper dragged him before the qadi. Now Nasreddin Hodja was at that time serving as qadi, and he heard the innkeeper's complaint and the beggar's explanation.

"So you demand payment for the smell of your soup?" summarized the Hodja after the hearing.

"Yes!" insisted the innkeeper.

"Then I myself will pay you," said the Hodja, "and I will pay for the smell of your soup with the sound of money."

Thus saying, the Hodja drew two coins from his pocket, rang them together loudly, put them back into his pocket, and sent the beggar and the innkeeper each on his own way.

The Older Wife

Nasreddin Hodja’s wife was gettin older and uglier, so he decided to get married again and have a second wife. He married a young and beautiful lady. Of course the ladies were so jealous of each other that they fought very often. One day they decided to find out which one Hodja loved the best and asked him

"Which of us do you love the most?" asked the older wife one day.

"I love you both the same," answered Nasreddin, wisely.

Not satisfied with this answer, the older wife continued:

"If the two of us fell out of a boat, which one of us would you rescue first?"

"Well," replied Nasreddin, "you can swim a little, can't you?"

The Robe

One night the neighbours heard a frightful noise from the Hodja's house. They asked in the morning:

"What was that noise?"

The Hodja answered:

"Last night my wife grew angry and kicked my robe down the stairs."
"But Hodja, can a robe make such a noise?" continued the neighbors.

"As chance would have it I was wearing the robe when she kicked it down the stairs," explained the Hodja.

The Cauldron That Died

Nasreddin Hodja, having need for a large cooking container, borrowed his neighbor's copper cauldron, then returned it in a timely manner.

"What is this?" asked his neighbor upon examining the returned cauldron.

"There is a small pot inside my cauldron."

"Oh," responded the Hodja.

"While it was in my care your cauldron gave birth to a little one. Because you are the owner of the mother cauldron, it is only right that you should keep its baby. And in any event, it would not be right to separate the child from its mother at such a young age."

The neighbor, thinking that the Hodja had gone quite mad, did not argue. Whatever had caused the crazy man to come up with this explanation, the neighbor had a nice little pot, and it had cost him nothing.

Some time later the Hodja asked to borrow the cauldron again.

"Why not?" thought the neighbor to himself. "Perhaps there will be another little pot inside when he returns it."

But this time the Hodja did not return the cauldron. After many days had passed, the neighbor went to the Hodja and asked for the return of the borrowed cauldron.

"My dear friend," replied the Hodja. "I have bad news. Your cauldron has died, and is now in her grave."

"What are you saying?" shouted the neighbor. A cauldron does not live, and it cannot die. Return it to me at once!"

"One moment!" answered the Hodja. "This is the same cauldron that but a short time ago gave birth to a child, a child that is still in your possession. If a cauldron can give birth to a child, then it also can die."

And the neighbor never again saw his cauldron.

A forty year old wine

One day, a neighbor said to the Hodja:

– Have you some wine that is forty years old?
- Yes I have”, replied the Hodja.
- Can you give me a little?
- If I gave a little to everybody asking for it, it would not be forty years old!

Cat and the liver

After the Hodja got the recipe for liver from his friend, he bought again some liver and because he liked it very much, he wanted to eat it often. But everytime when he brought livers he couldn't eat it, because his wife said that the cat took the liver and fled away. One day the Hodja became angry and said:

“Woman, I brought liver! Where is it?”
“Oh”, said his wife.
“The silly cat took it and fled away.”

At the same time the cat was in the room. The Hodja caught it, brought a steelyard and weighted the cat. Then he said:

“That is exactly two kilos. And the liver which I brought was also two kilos. Now tell me: If that is the liver where is my cat, if that is the cat, then I want my liver.” 

Azurina - The Little Blue One

(Crime of Heart)

by Marzia Volpones

The Territory of Rimini, once the Malatesta Seignory, is marked by two legends: the "Crime of Heart" to the North-West in the Montebello fortress in the Marecchia Valley and the "Crime of Honour" in the Castle of Gradara to the South of Rimini.

Our first legend is titled "Crime of Heart" and it is the tale of Azzurrina, the Little Blue One, which took place in the close- by castle of Montebello.

Azzurrina could not have found a better place than Montebello to make her fairytale-legend-truth grow through time. Only one road leads into the intact medieval village guarded by a fortified gate. The fortress raises solitary on the left bank of the Marecchia in a fiercely isolated position with the river in the valley broadening into a wide loop all around the huge rock. The military character of the place must have been recognized even in ancient times since its name derives from Mons Belli the Mount of War. Nowadays the mount of the most famous ghost in the area: Azzurrina or the Little Blue One.

1375. The sun is shining brightly in this hot midsummer day. The maidens are flocking around like bees; the big cuisine in the Montebello Castle is on work. All the servants are bustling around for this evening party: the party of the solstice of summer.

Guendalina, daughter of Ugolinuccio Malatesta, the Master of the castle is buzzing around. Her clear voice rejoices along the castle halls, the secret corridors and the banquet rooms.

She woke up early. Just to keep her quiet, Guendalina was given a new red rag ball as a present to play with. She loved to play with the new gift: see it rolling, rolling...

Guendalina was endowed with a special nickname: Azzurrina, the Little Blue One. Her white hair dyed dark blue; to disguise her "anomaly" The child was believed to have been albino, with pale skin and blue eyes. She could do whatever she wanted but leaving the castle whose walls and halls, let her grow up safely, protecting her from the hot sun and from the outer world.

The Little Blue One was told that the summer solstice day was special. This day the fairies would come and see the "good children" making all their wishes come true. Azzurrina had been longing for that day, longing for her dreams to be: to have a little mate of her age to play with. To make time go by, Guendalina started playing with her red rag ball. She started bouncing it, kicking it, seeing it rolling, rolling.

She was excited for the great banquet which would take place this very evening and which she had permission to attend. She could stay up till 7 o'clock no longer, because after dark, the fairies would disappear and the witches would rule the night. "Witches are no good for kiddies" she was told.

"Guendalina come, come here please. I've got some to tell you." "OK, daddy, let me play with my ball just a little bit more, please, daddy, please".

I'm brave" she thought. She kicked the ball as strong as she could. The rag ball started to roll down the stairs, through the corridor, down and down, ever more down, down. The child's laughter was rolling down with the ball.

After some time her father asked the guards who were supposed to be keeping watch were was Azzurrina. No one knew but they say she loved to play hide and seek, they would find her.

The summer solstice passed on, but the Little Blue One couldn't be found. The day after the guards searched for her in the underground passages, calling out her name. No answer, no child was found in the dungeons. Who could hide in those dark, filthy and scary places? The guards were ordered to search again. Day after day they did look for her. Suddenly one of them stopped and listened. A little voice seemed to be heard coming out from the darkness saying "dad, dad, I'm here! My rag ball..." "I found her" - thought the guard. He started to move quickly toward the place, the torchlight hardly lightened the way in the underground passage while the guard's shadow depicted on the wall was getting bigger and bigger and even more frightful as he was slowly proceeding on.

Neither Guendalina, nor her red rag ball was there. The guards failed to find Azzurrina and were condemned to death. No death could ever replace the desperate sorrow of the heart of the Little Blue One's father. What a crime was losing her beloved child. What a crime for his heart.

The legend says that every five years at the summer solstice, her slight figure holding a red rag ball in her hands appears among the castle walls. Light footsteps, sighs and cries are heard and her voice saying "Dad, dad, I'm here".

Recordings, film and the intervention of mediums have all been used in an attempt to document something, but ghosts, as we know, are often shy and fleeting. 

Ferhat and Şirin

According to the legend Ferhat was a famous craftsman who lived during the Persian time in Amasya. One day he was called to a small palace built for Sirin, Queen Mehmene Banu’s sister, to show his art on its doors and walls.

But something unpredictable happened when Ferhat and Sirin saw each other. They fell in love. Ferhat went to Queen Mehmene Banu and told her that he wanted so marry Sirin. The Queen didn’t want this marriage and told Ferhat,

"If you want to marry my sister Sirin, you must dig a huge channel right in the middle of the Elma (Apple) mountains of the city. Then, you must make the water come through this channel to the city. If you succeed, you may marry my sister. If you fail, forget her."

It was a 'mission impossible'. With the power of love, Ferhat started to dig the mountain. But when he was just about to finish the channel, he received a message from Mehmene Banu: Sirin is dead. With great anger Ferhat threw his hammer in the air but the hammer fell on his head and he died on the mountain he was digging. However, the message was a lie and after having heard about it Sirin went to the mountain and there she saw Ferhat’s dead body.

She jumped from the rocks of the mountain and killed herself. Ferhat and Sirin couldn’t be together while they were alive but now their graves are next to each other. People believe that every spring there are two roses growing from each grave and while the roses are about to touch each other, a black bush appears in the middle of them and doesn’t allow the roses to kiss each other.

The Water Ladies

Fairies known as “water ladies” or “goges” are mythical beautiful female entities, considered good entities. They are haunted the countryside, are invisible in the daylight and they are in custody of sweet waters. The water ladies favourise fertility and birth, give life and regenerate nature. Their origin is, according Greco Latin mythology, in Olimp. The water ladies are nymphs, they are Zeus’s daughters. Thise nymphs have different names according to where they dwelt:

• Dryads (forests)
• Naiads (springs and rivers)
• Nereid (the Mediterranean)
• Oceanids (the sea)
• Oreads (mountains)
• Limoniads (meadows)
• Limniads (lakes, marshes and swamps)
• Napaea (valleys)

Dryads

Naiads

Nereid

Oceanids

Oreads

Limoniads

Napaea

 

Water is an essential element in nature, essential for any type of life. Water is considered as a purification and regeneration of body and spirit element. Most images of virgins are associated with miraculous fountains.  Christianity associated water nymphs either with virgins or with witches Water immersion or aspersion is associated to religious rites. The habitat of water ladies is in the area of ponds, rivers, wells, underground caves, next to a water source, submerged crystal palaces.

The Estunes Water Ladies at Banyoles Lake

Banyoles is a beautiful lake located an hour inland from the Costa Brava. It was declared a Picturesque Scenery in 1949.At the foot of the impressive mountains of the Pyrenees Gentle foothills rise up from the lake basin. The mild climate and the serene waters make this a peaceful and fascinating site.

The Estunes is a type of rock found in the area of Banyoles lake. It gives origin to a landscape of a mysterious magnetism, where calcareous rocks and the surrounding woods combine in a singular way.

The rocks are cracked and, looking through the wide gaps, it is possible to see some caves known as Tunes of Estunes. The roots of the trees (oaks and holm oaks) twist in strange shapes and go deep into the gaps. The Estunes have always inspired writers and have been the origin of numerous legends of water ladies.


The legends say that in the depths of the caves there were luxurious palaces inhabited by water ladies known as Goges.The Goges seduce with their singing and capture those men who dare to be near the lake shore and drag them to their underground palaces. Only once a year, during Saint John’s Eve, at the summer solstice, the Goges can be seen by human beings without taking the risk of being bewitched by them.

The Baladrau Water Lady

A beautiful lady is the guardian of an apple tree with gold flowers and fruits She offers these fruits to young people passing by. The fruits award them immortality .