Tales from Within the Clouds: Nakhi Stories of China 9780824840785

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Tales from Within the Clouds

Tales from Within the Clouds Nakhi Stories of China Retold by Carolyn Han Translated by Jaiho Cheng Illustrated by Li Ji

© 1 9 9 7 University of Hawai'i Press All rights reserved Printed in Singapore 97

98 99 00 01

02

5 4 3 2 1

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Han, Carolyn, 1 9 4 1 Tales from within the clouds : Nakhi stories of China / retold by Carolyn Han ; translated by J a i h o Cheng ; illustrated by Li Ji. p.

cm.

"A Kolowalu book." T h e stories are translated from Naxi minority folktale collection, v. 1. ISBN 0 - 8 2 4 8 - 1 8 2 0 - 2 (alk. paper) 1. Naxi (Chinese people) —Folklore—Juvenile literature. 2. Tales—China—Yunnan Province—Juvenile literature. I. Li, Ji, ill. 11. Title. GR336.Y86H37

1997

96-47892

398.2089951—dc2i

CIP AC

University of Hawai'i Press books are printed on acid-free paper and meet the guidelines for permanence and durability of the Council on Library Resources

Designed by Barbara Pope Book Design

To Our Mothers Shen Yulin Chu Shui-Juian Helen E. Everett

Contents

Preface

ix

Heavenly Sisters

I

Nakhi Creation Tale

5

Why Dogs Lap Water

13

Naughty Cicada

15

Grumbling Goat

21

Legend of Ms. Chongcao Arrogant Azalea

29

Trickster Tale: Flea and Louse Brown-Nose Eel

25

35

39

Why Eagles Catch Chickens

43

CHINA TIBET SICHUAN Chengdu

Lugu Y o n g n i n g . Lake Lijiang' r

Knn!r:iTig_

—YUNNAN

of Benga/

Cartography by T R Paradise ''Jii6

Tales in this collection come from the Nakhi, a minority group that lives in China's remote southwest province of Yunnan (yun means cloud and nan means south, or south of the clouds). Yunnan gets its name from the towering mountains of Tibet and Sichuan that hold back the clouds. In ancient times Nakhi lived in Tibet but migrated to Sichuan and Yunnan Provinces. Now most Nakhi live in Yunnan. The largest group lives along the Gold Sand River in Lijiang, and a smaller population resides to the north in Yongning and the Lugu Lake area. Since Nakhi live at elevations from 8,000 to 10,000 feet, the tales come from people that dwell within the clouds.

Preface VIv interest in the Nakhi began in China in 1986, while teaching English in K u n m i n g at the Yunnan Institute of the Nationalities. During class a Nakhi student told us that her language had only the word mother—there

was no word for father.

No word for father? That question began this book. T h e Nakhi (pronounced " n a he") make up one of the fifty-five minority groups living in China. Once pastoral people, they migrated from northeast Tibet and settled in Sichuan and Yunnan Provinces around 25 A.D. Although the Nakhi are not commonly known in the Western world, they have an ancient history and ties with many cultures. Historic trade routes, including the Southwest Silk Road, have connected them to Asia and Europe lor centuries. About 2 5 0 , 0 0 0 Nakhi currently live in Yunnan, Sichuan, and Tibet. Yunnan has the largest Nakhi population. Two main groups live in the northwest section of Yunnan, but they are divided by raging rivers and rugged mountains. T h e majority of the Nakhi live in Lijiang, which is located within the bend of the Yangtze River. Lijiang Nakhi are now patriarchal, which means the family name and inheritance are passed through the father's line, although remnants from an earlier matriarchal society still remain. At first it may be difficult to detect evidence of a matriarchal society because it looks like women have little power. Women marry, manage family matters, and do most of, if not all, the work, while the men generally relax, drink tea, play cards, and play and listen to music. Even the traditional sheepskin capes worn by women seem to illustrate the point and have a sun and a moon embroidered on the shoulders, signifying that from sunup to sundown a woman's work is never done. But long ago, the wise Nakhi women realized that those who work and control family and money also control the power. T h e other group of Nakhi lives in an isolated section of Yunnan, in Yongning and the Lugu E a k e area. Although women manage the families and businesses, and share many similarities with the Lijiang Nakhi, the group has noticeable differences. First, the Yongning Nakhi are matriarchal, which means the family name and inheritance are passed through the mother's line. Second, most Yongning Nakhi do not marry; rather, they have open and flexible relationships. Third, because this group does not marry, only mothers raise the children. There is no need for the word father!

IX

My student was from this group. I had an answer to my question, but I could not stop. I was intrigued. For years I had been interested in women's studies and in minority folktales of China, and finally I had the opportunity to connect them. I wanted to know if the Nakhi folktales were different, given that they originated in a matriarchal society. Mu Ji Xin, a Nakhi friend, helped me find a collection of tales that had been translated from Nakhi to Chinese. All the stories in this book are translated from that collection.* Mr. Mu realized the importance of sharing the little-known stories with the world. He recognized the possibility that the tales might be forgotten in rapidly changing China, so he encouraged me to retell them in English. Sadly, Mu Ji Xin did not live to see the work completed. Throughout the world folktales are told and retold to entertain, educate, and encourage. I found that the Nakhi folktales share many similarities with other folktales in that they mirror life, using characters (human and nonhuman) who display universal human traits, including anger and kindness, arrogance and humility, deceit and honesty, greed and generosity. Although many stories use nonhuman characters, as in this collection, they act like humans in order to entertain and instruct. Folktales also tell us about society. They teach cultural values and give advice on expected behaviors. Others offer suggestions for handling daily struggles. Some are humorous and make us laugh, while others are sad and make us cry. The trickster tales encourage us to be aware and wise. Folktales explain the mysteries of nature by showing how things were created or why things came about. Perhaps the most important role for folktales is to inspire us to become better people. Folktales from the Nakhi do all the above and more. First, the stories are a window onto an ancient culture. Second, they give information about people living in a unique natural environment. By describing unusual plants, insects, and animals found in Yunnan, they let us explore a remote region. Third, the unfamiliar place names that occur in the tales—Yunnan, Lijiang, Jade Dragon Snow Mountain, and Golden Sand River—teach us about the geography of the region and invite us to learn more. Fourth, because the Nakhi have lived for centuries along major trade routes, the folktales give us a sense of how contact with other cultures has influenced them. Evidence from India, Tibet, and Persia (Iran) may be seen in the tales. But most important, and unlike other folktales, the Nakhi stories have an abundance of female characters. Ordinarily folktales feature male characters, and when females are mentioned they play * The stories are translated from Naxizu min jian giishi ji cheng jen, de 1 ji (Naxi minority folktale collection, vol. 1), chief editor Mu Lichun. Lijiang: Lijiang di chu wenhua ju, ming wei, qun yi guan, 1988.

X

m i n o r roles. Historically t h e r e h a v e b e e n very few f e m a l e role m o d e l s in l i t e r a t u r e or folktales with w h i c h to identify. Of c o u r s e , s o m e p o p u l a r tales d o h a v e w o m e n in lead roles, hut usually t h e y a r e h e l p e d o r saved by m e n . W h e n stories d o f e a t u r e strong, i n d e p e n d e n t lemales, t h e s e l e m a l e s a r e I r e q u e n t l y evil. Most stories h a v e an a b u n d a n c e ol intelligent a n d / o r p o w e r l u l m a l e c h a r a c t e r s , so it a p p e a r s t h a t m a l e s c o n t r i b u t e m o r e . B e c a u s e it looks as t h o u g h m a l e s c o n t r i b u t e m o r e , t h e y a r e o f t e n c o n s i d e r e d m o r e i m p o r t a n t . It is i m p o r t a n t lor a h e a l t h y , w e l l - b a l a n c e d society to h a v e m o r e females, a n d s t r o n g e r females, as role m o d e l s . We n e e d stories t h a t f e a t u r e girls a n d w o m e n . We n e e d girls a n d w o m e n w h o a r e powerlul—not powerless. W h e n we p r o v i d e m o r e stories with lemales, a n d stories with s t r o n g l e m a l e a n d m a l e c h a r a c t e r s , we t e a c h o u r c h i l d r e n t h a t b o t h g e n d e r s a r e v a l u e d a n d v a l u a b l e . P e r h a p s this collection of folktales, in a small way, m a y begin to bala n c e t h e l o n g s t a n d i n g inequality a n d let us use t h e a n c i e n t N a k h i w i s d o m . f o l k t a l e s act as t h r e a d s t h a t c o n n e c t p e o p l e a n d worlds. W h e n w o r l d s c o m e t o g e t h e r a n d stories a r e t r a n s l a t e d , it is likely t h a t s o m e details may be lost or c h a n g e d . To e n s u r e t h e integrity a n d t h e f a i t h f u l r e p r o d u c t i o n s ol t h e tales, it h a s t a k e n m a n y c o n v e r s a t i o n s , m a n y rewrites, a n d m a n y trips to Y u n n a n . It has b e e n my good l o r t u n e to retell t h e s e folktales a n d l e a r n a b o u t t h e INakhi. My life is r i c h e r b e c a u s e ol this e x p e r i e n c e , a n d I h o p e you will e n j o y a n d l e a r n Irom t h e stories. P e r h a p s t h e y will lead you to discover o t h e r tales f r o m p e o p l e a r o u n d t h e w o r l d . Minority tales n e e d to be p r e s e r v e d a n d passed on so t h a t c u l t u r e s a r e n o t f o r g o t t e n . Folktales a r e ties to a past, p r e s e n t , a n d f u t u r e . T h r o u g h t h e m we see t h a t we s h a r e m o r e similarities t h a n d i f f e r e n c e s with o t h e r p e o p l e o n o u r small p l a n e t . With this a w a r e n e s s we m a y find e o m l o r t in k n o w i n g t h a t we a r e not a l o n e . Possibly folktales with t h e i r u n i v e r s a l t h r e a d s may h e l p to b i n d us all. My h e a r t l e l t a p p r e c i a t i o n goes to all t h o s e a l o n g t h e j o u r n e y w h o h a v e h e l p e d m a k e this b o o k possible. Ju be se, " t h a n k s " in N a k h i , to my s t u d e n t w h o , w i t h o u t k n o w i n g it. b e g a n this b o o k . And to Mu Ji Xin for t h e collection of tales—he c o n t i n u e s to live within t h e pages. Xie xie, " t h a n k y o u " in C h i n e s e , to P o n g Yi Mei for h e r h e l p , tenacity, a n d w o n d e r f u l sense of h u m o r . I a m g r a t e f u l to Ellen O k u m a , Birch Robison, a n d K a r e n Williams, my d e a r colleagues a n d f r i e n d s w h o h a v e s u p p o r t e d m e in my writing. I a m i n d e b t e d to Pom P a r a d i s e f o r t h e b e a u t i f u l m a p . A n o t h e r special t h a n k s to Iris M. Wiley, r e t i r e d e x e c u t i v e e d i t o r of t h e University of Hawai'i Press, for b e l i e v i n g in me, to S h a r o n P. Y a m a m o t o , editor, for believing in t h e b o o k , a n d to C h e r i D u n n , m a n a g i n g editor, for b e l i e v i n g it could h a p p e n . Xie

xie

a n d t h a n k s to David, my s o n ; it is b e c a u s e of you I collect t h e folktales. 1 n e v e r want vou to forget y o u r roots.

XI

Heavenly Sisters Once upon a time, long before the earth and the sky were separated, the sun and the moon were sisters. Both sisters were very beautiful and very bright, but, as in many families, they were not exactly alike. The older sister, the Sun, had two bad habits. First, she was impatient. When she did not get her way, her hot temper ignited everything in its path. Second— and maybe this was a worse habit—she was very fond of sleeping late. You could even say she was lazy. On the other hand the younger sister, the Moon, had no bad habits. She was almost perfect. Every morning she arose before dawn and patiently tended to her work. She did not rest until all her work was done. You could never say she was lazy. One afternoon while the sisters were together in the heavenly garden, they listened to a storyteller describe a marvelous sight. "On top of Sacred Mountain there is an enchanted tree," the storyteller said. " T h e magic tree is covered with shining silver blossoms and glittering golden fruit." Excited by the thought of such a wonderful tree, the sisters decided to journey to the top of the mountain to see it with their own eyes. Of course, the impatient Sun sister wanted to go immediately. "Let's go now!" she shouted. "I can't wait to pick the silver blossoms and the golden fruit." "Be patient," the Moon said. "We have to choose a lucky date." They decided on double seven, the seventh day of the seventh month. On that morning, the Moon was up as usual before sunrise. First she went to her sister's room to wake her, and then she washed her face and put on her makeup. As she pressed rose petals on her lips to stain them red, she thought to herself, "Because today is so special Fm going to wear my new dress." After she buttoned the last shimmering button, she realized that

1

her sister was still not awake. Again the Moon went to her sister's room. "It's past time to get up," she said. "Why didn't you get up when I called earlier? I'm all ready to go and you're still in bed." Fast asleep, the Sun did not hear her sister. When the Moon realized the Sun was dreaming and had not heard even one word, she nudged her. "Wake up, sleepyhead. It's time to go." This time the Sun heard her words, but she pretended to be asleep. Again the Moon pleaded with the Sun, "Please, please get up." Ever so slowly the Sun poked her head from under the covers, looked at the color of the sky, and groaned, "It's still dark! It's too early to get up!" And with that she pulled her quilt of clouds over her head and fell back asleep. The patient Moon calmly returned to the fireplace to boil a pot of tea, then another, and another. After drinking three pots of tea, she listened, but there was no sound from her sister's bedroom. "I'll try one more time to wake the Sun," she said, and went directly to her sister's room. "Dear, dear sister, don't you want to see the silver blossoms and the golden fruit? Remember the wonderful story?" The Sun listened, but she did not answer. "Well, since you don't want to go," the Moon said, "I'll go by myself." Not believing that her sister would go alone, the Sun fell back asleep. But when the sound of the double doors of the wooden gate startled her awake, she knew the Moon really was going without her. T h e Sun instantly jumped from her bed and ran past the gate. As fast as she could she raced up the steep path after her sister. She ran and ran, but no matter how fast her feet moved she could not catch the Moon. "Wait for me! Wait for me!" she shouted. But the Moon never looked back because she was too far ahead to hear. At last the Sun had to stop because she was out of breath and too tired to run farther—and that is when she looked down. "AIYA!" she screamed.

2

"I AM NAKED!" In her impatience she had jumped out of bed and forgot to get dressed! Instantly her face turned the color of fire. She was so shamed by her nakedness that her entire body grew hotter and redder until she glowed. Unfortunately, the glow did nothing to hide her nakedness. Soon people gathered around to point and stare at the Sun. Finding no place to hide, she quickly grabbed sparkling golden needles from the sky and tossed them at the crowd. The brightness of the golden needles blinded the people and they had to turn away—no longer could they use their bare eyes to watch the Sun. When the people turned their eyes from the Sun, they saw the soft reflection of the Moon farther along the path. As they watched the radiant Moon dressed in shimmering clothes, they were deeply touched by her grace and beauty. Still to this day it is difficult to look at the blinding sun, but it is easy to gaze at the shining moon.

4

Nakhi Creation Tale At the beginning of time, in a far-off plaee south of the clouds, lived a blackhearted serpent known as Sumei Naga. This mean, snakelike dragon ruled the world from her jewel-studded palace beneath the sea. Everyone feared Sumei Naga because she misused her wisdom and power. Just like a dangerous snake, she wanted to squeeze the last drop of lile Irom the people. Whenever she surfaced from the bottom of the sea, she ruined whole villages by destroying the houses and ripping the crops from the fields. Without warning, she created violent earthquakes that tossed the people into the sea, where most of them drowned. Others she forced to Stone Mountain, which was a worse late. It was a place without life, where nothing would grow—not even a blade of grass. Four women were exiled to Stone Mountain: Wisdom, Doer, Thinker, and Seer. They knew they had to act quickly to save themselves and to stop Sumei Naga. Everyone knows that serpents are vain. Sumei Naga was not only vain; she also had a worse fault—greed. The women began their plan. Wisdom called across the water to Sumei Naga in a most respectful voice, "Oh honorable one, please talk with us." "Serpents don't waste time with the likes of you," roared Sumei Naga. "We have something very important to tell you," Wisdom said. "What could you say to me that I don't already know?" Sumei Naga glared, showing her displeasure. "Ah! Most respectful serpent," Wisdom continued, "you have made wise choices. You have the richest creations in the world: the stars in the sky arc locked on your shelf, colorful clouds hang in your closet, the shadows of the birds reflect on your fields, the animal tracks are hidden in your forest."

5

"Why yes, these things are true. But I already know that!" she said. "You are wasting my time!" Quickly Doer said, "Truly you do deserve these things because you are so kind and generous to everyone. When they are hungry, you give them meat; when they are thirsty, you give them milk." Doer used flattery. Sumei Naga smiled because she liked what she heard. Soon she started drooling and slowly swishing her head back and forth. Each time she moved her enormous head from side to side a bigger smile appeared, and then she let out a loud laugh, but both smile and laugh disappeared when she heard the next words. "I think you have—almost—all the treasures of the world," Thinker said slowly. "You probably are the richest serpent in the world, but there is one thing you do not have—the rarest treasure!" "What'.''" Sumei Naga thundered. "What treasure am I missing?" The entire sky turned black with the dust that exploded as she roared. Although the sun and the moon disappeared for a day, the four women were happy because they had tricked Sumei Naga. Now she would listen. "You see, you are missing one treasure—maybe the best one of all," Seer whispered. "What is it?" the serpent demanded. "You are missing one valuable jewel—a golden egg from the magic Roc, or Golden Wings, who lives on Sacred Mountain," Seer smiled. " I f you had this last treasure, you would own everything—all the wealth of the world." Proudly puffing out her chest and raising her enormous head, Sumei Naga shouted, " i control the stars in the sky. What makes you think I cannot have the golden egg?" At once she rose from the water and flew directly to Sacred Mountain to find the nest that held the golden egg. When she reached the top of the mountain, she saw the famous bird, Golden Wings. Sumei Naga hid in the

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shadows and watched the mighty bird stretch her wings, which reached wider than a rainbow—so wide that they seemed to cover the entire sky. Just as the yellow rays oi sunlight touched the tree that held her nest, Golden Wings shot off like an arrow and disappeared into the silvery clouds. It was Sumei Naga's chance to steal the unattended egg. When Golden Wings returned, she looked in her nest. She frantically tore it to pieces searching for the egg, but her precious egg was gone! At once she flew to Sky God to ask for help. "You know everything about good and evil. Even the clouds cannot hide secrets from you. Please tell me who took my egg," she begged. Sky God blinked her sapphire-colored eyes and pushed the misty clouds aside with her long arms. While looking down upon the earth, she said in a sad voice, " S u m e i Naga stole your egg." Alter thanking Sky God, the golden bird spread her wings and flew toward the gigantic sea where Sumei Naga lived. Just before she reached the surface of the water, she tucked in her wings and, like a thunderbolt, plunged straight down. Forcing the water aside, she uncovered Sumei Naga, and with her sharp claws spread far apart she seized her. "How dare you steal my golden egg?" she yelled. "Return my egg at once, or I'll tie you to Stone Mountain!" With a sideways glance at Golden Wings, Sumei Naga dared her, "My body has three parts. The first part supports the earth. The second part supports the clouds. The third part supports the sky. You can't remove me from the water!" Instantly Golden Wings dug her sharp claws deeper into Sumei Naga's flesh and lilted her from the water. Golden Wings flew around and around in great circles, grasping the surprised serpent and dangling her in midair. Higher and higher they flew, and all the time the serpent cried, " I demand you put me down! Put me down! I demand it!"

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"I'll put you down," Golden Wings shouted. Then she made one last swoop above the clouds and let go of Sumei Naga. For a moment the enormous serpent hung in the air, and then like a meteor she crashed into the bottomless sea. Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Three times the water exploded high into the sky. The large drops that fell back to earth became the oceans, the medium drops became the rivers, and the small drops became the lakes. And what was left of Sumei Naga, the snakelike dragon, became the jagged mountains.

11

Why Dogs Lap Water After the creation of the oceans, rivers, and lakes, the entire earth changed. Each spring the rivers swelled with water from the melting snows high in the mountains. The rushing water carried mud and rocks, causing the riverbanks to overflow and ruin the newly planted crops. The people on earth were very clever, however, and they developed ways to stop the flooding. Some built dams. Some created flood channels by using bamboo poles tied together with woven grass. Some dug long ditches to bring water to the fields so that crops could grow. Soon the Water Demon vanished and the world prospered because everyone had worked to stop the flooding. Everyone had worked hard—everyone except the D O G ! Only the lazy, good-for-nothing dog slept while the others worked. Whenever the dog was thirsty, she had to sneak around to get a drink of water. If anyone saw her close to the water, they shouted, "Get away! You didn't help with any of the work. You don't deserve to drink our water!" Over time the constant criticism made the dog feel guilty. Soon her guilt turned to shame. When she wanted a drink of water, she looked to see if anyone was watching. Usually she had to wait a long, long time—sometimes her thirst became unbearable. When she could not stand it any longer, she crept to the edge of the water and pretended she was washing her tongue. If anyone caught her drinking, she would stick out her tongue and say, "Watch me. I'm not drinking the water! I'm only washing my tongue." Ever since that time, a dog extends its tongue to lap when it drinks. If you scold a dog, it will still look at you and say, "You think I'm drinking this water? No—No—certainly not. See, I'm just washing my tongue."

!3

Naughty Cicada Once upon a time, along the glittering shores of Gold Sand River, stood an ancient oak tree. Sharing the old tree was a Mama Cicada and a Spring Lark. Both were good neighbors and good friends. One day Spring Lark stood wobbling on a low branch and thought to herself, "I'm feeling quite dizzy. I can barely keep my balance. Maybe the flower nectar I drank earlier made me tipsy." She steadied herself on the branch and spoke to Mama Cicada, "When you sing loudly it sounds like chanting. When you sing to your babies it sounds like soft lullabies. You never sound off-key or out of tune. You make everyone envious." "Of course I'm flattered by your words. They make me feel very happy," Mama Cicada said, "just like drinking sweet wine." Then she flapped her crystal wings and glanced at the Lark. "Ms. Spring Lark, even if you hadn't told me how good I sound, I already know my voice is like music." When the Cicada finished, she proudly raised her head and stretched her transparent wings. With her sheer wings fully open she flew high into the sky and let out a scream—a screeching high-pitched wail. The screeching made the Lark shudder, and she covered her ears with her wings. "That's not singing," she said. "It's a big mistake to think screeching is singing." Mama Cicada thought that Spring Lark was scolding her because she was jealous. "It's because your voice is not as lovely as mine," she said, twitching her nose back and forth. "You are comparing your voice to mine, and there is no comparison—MINE IS B E T T E R ! " Screech—screech—screech—the naughty Cicada waved her head back and forth and shouted. Her loud sounds spoiled the day. After a while Spring Lark could no longer stand the noise and moved to another tree.

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Mama Cicada called after her, "You are just jealous because your voice is not as beautiful as mine." With that she raised her head higher and hollered even louder. Day and night the awful noise continued, and eventually the Cicada's shouting became unbearable to all the birds living in the forest. Several birds tried to think of ways to stop her, but nothing would work. One day Spring Lark flew from her tree and joined the group. "I have a plan, but I'm not sure if it will help." "What is it?" the other birds asked. "Every day the naughty Cicada shrieks over and over in such an unpleasant voice. Her loud sounds bother all the birds in the forest, but she is most disrespectful to the Sun. I'll fly to Sun God and ask her for advice." All the birds agreed it was a good idea, and Spring Lark flew off to ask Sun God for help. Very early the next morning the Sun arose, and the first sound she heard was the screeching Cicada. The Cicada no longer sang—she yelled and squawked. "What a horrible noise," the Sun said, holding her ears. When holding her ears no longer worked, she jumped backward three giant steps. Each time the Sun jumped backward, the world became colder, colder, and colder. As the Sun was now very far from earth, the new winter season was especially cold. Mama Cicada began to shiver and shake. Soon she ended her shouting. Eventually her feet froze and she could no longer hold on to her babies or cling to the oak tree. Finally the Cicada and her babies tumbled out of the tree and fell facedown on the earth. They slowly crawled along the ground and dug holes to hide from the coldness of winter. Time passed. By the following year, the Sun forgot her anger toward Mama Cicada—she jumped forward three steps. Now the earth was warm again, and the babies woke up and tunneled out from their underground homes. But a few were too afraid to come to the surface and stayed asleep deep within the earth. Although the babies in the ground were not in any

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danger, they sent out flowerlike parasols to protect themselves from the Sun. In Yunnan, you may see the frilly "flowers" pop up around the large trees during springtime, still hiding the sleeping cicadas.

Cicada Cicadas arc dark brown or black insects, with broad, flattened bodies and two pairs of large, transparent wings. These sheer mosaic-patterned wings make them look a little like enormous flies. Common cicadas measure from one to two inches, but some species reach greater lengths. In most species of cicadas it is the males that produce the loud "singing" or buzzing sounds. There are only a few species where both males and females sing. As adults they live in trees during the summer months. Females lay eggs in tree crevices, and the newly hatched eggs soon become nymphs, or wingless baby cicadas. The nymphs drop to the ground and burrow into the earth with their strong Iront legs, and there they live for a time. Usually it takes two to five years for the nymphs to reach maturity. The cycles of the young cicadas overlap so that some appear each year. Probably the most well-known cicadas are those that emerge at intervals of thirteen and seventeen years. Altogether there are more than 1,500 species of cicadas. In the higher elevations of Yunnan, Sichuan, and Tibet, the cicada is commonly infected by a fungus. Slowly the fungus grows inside the cicada larva and eats the live insect. During springtime the fungus appears above ground as a flowerlike, or umbrella, formation. The flowerlike formation releases spores into the air, some of which land in the air passages of other cicadas and the cycle continues. One Chinese name for the fungus is chart hua

-¡li; chart means cicada and hua means flower.

Another common name is chong hua

("hong means bug and hua means flower.

In the spring the frilly flowerlike fungus is picked, dried, and used in traditional Chinese folk medicine. The medicine is especially recommended for children and may be used for shock, crying, infections, colds, measles, and eye diseases or as an appetite enhancement and all-purpose tonic. People in China have traditionally caught cicadas and kept them in bamboo cages because they believe the cicada's song will bring them good luck. Others keep cicadas because they believe their songs will predict the weather. Children like to tie strings around the cicadas and keep them as pets. Throughout history, many stories and poems have been written about the celebrated cicada.

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Grumbling Goat When springtime comes to Lijiang, the days become warmer and longer and people gather in the old town square. Sitting beside the ancient stone waterways, you may hear a Nakhi grandmother retell an age-old story about the Goat and the Sheep. Once long ago, as the story goes, a Goat and a Sheep lived in the sky. Each day the pair floated along on white fluffy clouds, ate delicious grass in the sunshiny meadows, and drank from the crystal waters of the River Galaxy. One day it changed. That day was not so different from the others except for one thing—the Goat and the Sheep went out the Sky Gate. After walking through the gate, they reached a place halfway between heaven and earth. It was the first time they were so far from home, and they were very excited. As they looked around, they saw rolling green hills, rainbow-colored flowers, and tasty-looking grass. "This is wonderful," the Sheep said. It seemed like only minutes, but it must have been hours because when the Goat looked up, the sun was setting in the west. Realizing they had been gone too long, the Goat said, "We have to get back. It's getting late." "Why can't we stay just a little longer?" the Sheep pleaded. "Please, please, please!" Just as the Goat opened her mouth to reply, the Sheep interrupted, "Isn't it wonderful? The world is so amazing that I just can't get enough." Showing her happiness, she bobbed her head up and down and swished her fluffy tail side to side. "Yes, I agree that the earth is quite wonderful," the Goat nodded her head in agreement. " B u t we need to return to the sky." The Sheep danced around and twirled on her toes. " T h e r e is so much to see and do h e r e , " she said. "I'll bet the water is sweeter than honey."

21

In her excitement she patted the Goat's shoulder. " D e a r Sister, we left the sky, and, now that we're so close, let's just look a r o u n d ! " Several times the Goat blinked her eyes in disbelief at what the Sheep suggested. " D o you mean to tell me that you want to stay on earth?" the Goat asked. "I've heard that Humans are very shrewd. If they catch us, we will lose our freedom." Impatiently the Sheep skipped about and shook her head from side to side in disagreement. "Ridiculous! That is ridiculous! Everyone knows that Humans are kind. They're only mean to tigers and leopards because they kill their yaks, chickens, and ducks. Really, why would they hurt u s ? " Although the Goat was not really sure what to do, she listened to the Sheep. Together they climbed down a silver-white ladder and then slid down a golden chain that led to earth. By the time they reached earth they needed to rest. Both curled up on a bed of green pine needles to take a short nap. They did not sleep long. A sound disturbed their dreams. A new sound. Ever so softly it began, and then—SNAP! SNAP! Ropes tightened around their necks! Soon the Sheep and Goat were led away and tethered to a wooden post. Every day was the same. Each day they ate—each day they became fatter. One morning they heard another new sound—a raspy, grating sound of knives being sharpened on stone. This new sound made them very nervous. The Goat and the Sheep realized what was going to happen. Over and over the Goat complained, but the Sheep stayed quiet, only murmuring "Ba-Ba-Ba." As they still tell the story in Lijiang—the Sheep was so sad because she had not listened to the wise Goat and returned home. Since then she says very little. But the grumbling Goat makes a lot of noise, blaming the Sheep lor luring her from the sky. " B l a h ! Blah! B l a h ! " she cries. "It's all because of you! It's your fault! See what h a p p e n e d ! "

2

3

Legend of Ms. Chongcao South of the Clouds near Jade Dragon Snow Mountain, a long time ago, lived a fashionable Ms. Chongcao. She liked to have new clothes and always changed her image from season to season. One day, as the flowers pushed their heads through the melting snow and fresh shoots of green grass appeared, Ms. Chongcao peeked out from her underground home and shouted, "Happy springtime, world!" "Now that it's spring, I need a new dress." Ms. Chongcao changed quickly into a jade-green silk dress. "Wow, I look beautiful; just like a slender stalk of green grass. I'll wear this new dress until winter comes. I just love having new clothes, and this shade of green is so pretty." In the winter Ms. Chongcao lives underground because she does not want to be seen wearing last year's fashions. But in the spring Ms. Chongcao lives aboveground in the warm sunshine, where she mimics the fragrant grass. One day as she lay between the slender blades of grass, enjoying the warm sunshine, she saw a Horse in the distance. At first the Horse nibbled grass by the edge of the meadow, but very soon she was close to where Ms. Chongcao rested. Nibble, nibble, chomp, chomp came closer and closer—so close that Ms. Chongcao began waving her arms, and a cold sweat, resembling glistening dew, covered her entire body. "Watch out! Sister Horse, you cannot eat me!" she cried. "I'm not really green grass. I'm a worm. If you eat a worm, you will surely get a stomachache." Instantly, the Horse's ears stood up, and she searched for the voice in the grass. Ms. Chongcao spoke again, "Look here, Sister Horse. I'm not green grass!" This time the Horse jumped backward in surprise. She was so shocked to hear grass talking that she galloped off to the other side of the meadow.

2

5

"Well, lucky for me I escaped this time," Ms. Chongcao sighed. "Maybe I better change my clothes and look more like a worm." Ms. Chongcao promptly took off her lovely green dress and put on a brown velvet gown, which made her look much more like a worm. Ms. Chongcao sat in the shade of a large mushroom, and, while she rested, she spread out her gown and admired the soft fabric and pretty color. She felt so happy and relaxed that she did not see what was coming. Finally she looked up when she heard a scratch, scratch, scratch—but it was too late. Towering above her was a giant bird! The Golden Pheasant continued scratching the soft earth with her iron claws, looking for something to eat, but when she saw Ms. Chongcao she stopped. Before Ms. Chongcao could run away, she was locked in the viselike grip of the bird's iron beak. As Ms. Chongcao dangled in midair, she thought to herself, "I've just fooled the Horse, but how will I ever convince this GIANT I'm not a worm?" The Golden Pheasant tossed Ms. Chongcao high into the air and was just about to eat her when Ms. Chongcao let out a scream, "I'm not a worm—I'm green grass! Put me down!" Startled by her cry, the Pheasant hesitated, and the pause was just long enough for Ms. Chongcao to escape. As soon as she was safely away, Ms. Chongcao changed into another, even more fashionable, dress made of emerald-green silk. This time she was sure she would be hidden among the tall grasses that grew in the meadow. A few days later Ms. Chongcao heard two familiar sounds. Nibble, nibble. Scratch, scratch. Both the Horse and the Pheasant were in the very same meadow! The sounds grew louder. Ms. Chongcao knew that her talkative tongue would not save her this time. If she stayed dressed as green grass, the Horse was sure to eat her. If she dressed in brown, like a fashionable worm, the Pheasant was sure to eat her. What could she do?

26

At that very m o m e n t Ms. Chongcao made a decision to leave the sunny meadow. As fast as she could, she ran to J a d e Dragon Snow Mountain and staved just above the snow line. Neither the Horse nor the Golden Pheasant would dare to go this high. Living at such a high elevation has not changed the fashionable Ms. Chongcao. Although she never leaves the mountain, each season she still changes clothes. In spring she dresses in green, just like grass, and in winter she dresses in brown, just like a worm.

Chongcao Literally translated, clwng means worm and cao means grass. Ms. Chongcao is

chong-

cao J ^ J j L . a kind of fungus (Chinese Caterpillar Fungus). An earlier term in Chinese is (long cliong/xia cao

cao

^ Jp., which means winter worm/summer grass.

Chong-

grows on the high mountains above the ten thousand-loot level in Yunnan,

Siehuan, and Tibet. This fungus still confuses many people because it seems to be both animal and plant. T h e fungus grows inside the body of a caterpillar larva and replaces its inner organs. It still looks like a caterpillar on the outside because the exoskeleton, or body, remains intact. But the inside is completely taken over by the fungus. During the spring, the fungus sends out a stroma, or shoot (for reproduction), which resembles a blade of grass. T h e easiest time to find and collect chongcao

is in late spring when the

shoot pushes up through the snow. Alter chongcao

is harvested and dried it is

ready to eat. It can be eaten whole or ground into a powder. Often it is mixed with other herbs and taken in a tea. In Yunnan, a favorite way to prepare

chong-

cao is to cook it with chicken. For more than two thousand years this expensive fungus has been used in China as a tonic or all-purpose medicine. Chongcao

is said to cure anemia, tuber-

culosis, and joint pain and to restore appetite and vitality.

2

7

Arrogant Azalea Each spring since the beginning of time, the Queen of Flowers holds a "Flower Festival." Each year she invites one hundred of the prettiest flowers to be her guests to celebrate spring and the beauty of the forest. This true story happened a long, long time ago. During this year, as usual, only the most beautiful one hundred flowers were supposed to be invited. So when a short, thin, scraggly Pine Tree asked her neighbor, the colorful Azalea, to accompany her to the celebration, the Azalea was surprised. "Let's go together," said the little Pine Tree in a sweet voice. "It s always more fun to walk with a friend." Looking straight at the scraggly Pine Tree, the Azalea laughed at the invitation. "Little Pine Tree, you don't blossom—you are not a flower! Besides, you are short, crooked, and very ugly. Do you really think the Queen is blind? Why would she ever invite you to the party?" Tears burst from the little Pine Tree's eyes and ran down her bark, but she wiped them quickly away with a small branch. She did not want the Azalea to see her crying. Trying her best to stand straight and tall so that she did not look so crooked, she said, " I f the Queen of Flowers thought I was so ugly, she wouldn't have invited me. Maybe I'm not beautiful like you, but since she asked me, I'll go." Losing patience with the little Pine Tree, the Azalea said, " I f you really think you're invited, you go first. I'm going to take my beauty nap. Of course, the Queen will save the seat of honor for me no matter what time I arrive. Everyone knows I'm the most beautiful flower!" Then the Azalea yawned, shook her red frilly head, stretched her lazy back, and fell fast asleep. Trying her best to hold back the tears, the sad little Pine Tree

29

walked to the party all alone. When she arrived, the Queen of Flowers welcomed the little Pine Tree. "Thank you for inviting me," said the little Pine Tree as she bowed. "Sit by me!" shouted a yellow Orchid. "Okay!" replied the little Pine Tree, smiling. "I'd love to sit by such a pretty flower." Being included made the little Pine Tree forget her sadness. Just before the party ended the Queen asked the little Pine Tree to stand. "This year's award goes to you." "Me?" The Pine Tree was shocked. "I'm not a beautiful flower!" "When you have difficulties, you look for the bright side. You find the gifts in each situation. Because of this quality, you deserve the 'Award for Inner-Beauty,'" the Queen said as she handed the award to the little Pine Tree. "It's the beauty that never fades." As the little Pine Tree accepted the award, the pine cones on her branches sparkled like diamonds in the late afternoon sunlight. No one would have noticed if she was short, thin, or slightly crooked. As the sun set behind Jade Dragon Snow Mountain, the celebration came to an end. The Azalea arrived while the flowers were saying goodbye to the Queen. The Azalea truly was beautiful with her red head glowing in the late afternoon sunlight. She walked arrogantly around the grounds, trying to find the entrance. Then she saw the Pine Tree, smiling at her. A frown instantly appeared on the Azalea's face, her eyes narrowed, and the corners of her mouth turned down. Soon the frown deepened to a scowl, and she took a step backward and spit in the direction of the little Pine Tree. Shocked by the Azalea's behavior, the little Pine Tree's eyes widened, and she watched as the Azalea finally found the entrance. But when the Azalea tried to enter, she was stopped. She was not allowed inside to be with the others, which made her feel sad and disheartened.

31

Since then, azaleas have had hollow, or empty stems—it began on the day when the Azalea experienced life with an empty heart. Even the honeybees often ignore the azalea flower, because when the azalea blooms, the pistil and stamen quickly dry up and fall off. Honeybees collect nectar from azaleas, but the honey is poisonous. In Yunnan, to this day, azaleas are considered the most beautiful flowers with their gaily colored petals; but, unfortunately, the beautiful azaleas have short, sad lives.

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Trickster Tale: Flea and Louse Fleas and lice originally belonged to a large, happy family, but one day, a long time ago, all that changed. Everyone knows that fleas like to play practical jokes, and that day the Flea was in a very playful mood and began teasing the Louse, saying, "You are a lousy lout of a louse. All lice are lazy; they just think about eating and sleeping." "That's not true!" the Louse shouted back. "Of course it's true," the Flea said. She then set about trying to find a way to shame the Louse. "Let's have a competition, and whoever wins gets to eat all the food that's now cooking." As the Louse thought about food—she smelled the sizzling dinner in the nearby wok—her mouth began to water. "What sort of competition?" she asked. Hoping that she could win and eat the food, she was ready to say "yes" to anything the Flea suggested. Being very greedy, the Flea wanted all the food for herself. She did not want to share even a tiny bit with the Louse, so she planned a contest that she would win. "Here are the rules," the Flea began. "Whoever can carry the most firewood from the forest back to the fireplace in the shortest amount of time wins all the food." The Louse could not think of anything better, so she agreed and ran off to gather the wood. While she stacked the firewood in neat piles, she thought to herself, " I f you think you can, you can. If you think you can't, you can't. Either way you are right." Of course, the Flea knew she would win. Everyone knows that fleas are fast on their feet: leaping high in the air, jumping more than a hundred times their height. Since she was sure to win, she took her time. After awhile the Flea began to gather sticks and small branches together and

35

then tied them on her back. Making sure they were securely fastened, she started for home, but each time she jumped, the rope untied and the firewood fell off. She quickly tied the bundle together and jumped a couple more steps, but the same thing happened again and again. Jump—jumpdump—dump—pick-up. Jump—jump—dump—dump—pick-up. J u m p jump—dump—dump—pick-up. When the Flea finally reached home, she saw a huge pile of wood by the fireplace, and the Louse was finishing the last bite of food! The empty wok lay upside down on the floor. All the food was gone! Angry about losing the contest and doubly angry because she felt cheated out of her rightful meal, the Flea picked up a heavy clay jug. With all her might she tossed it at the Louse. SPLAT! The jug hit the Louse on her back, knocking her to the floor. When the Louse got up and realized what happened, she picked up the empty wok and flung it across the room. SMASH! It hit the Flea squarely on her back. From that time fleas and lice both have bruises, or spots, on their backs. And from that day fleas and lice have refused to be counted in the same family.

36

Brown-Nose Eel One winter's day, a long time ago, the sun hung suspended in the sky as if it were a giant fireball warming the earth below. Gentle winds blew fluffy clouds from Jade Dragon Snow Mountain, covering the earth. A brown-nose Eel living in Golden Sand River looked out from her underwater cave, appreciating the warmth and the beauty of the day. She danced in the flowing currents of the sparkling water, so completely wrapped in her thoughts that she did not notice the Snake. The open-mouthed Snake waited and watched the Eel dance closer and closer. Just before the Snake's jaws clamped around her, the Eel looked up. Instantly she knew the Snake's intentions. Without delay the Eel smiled and extended her long, thin tail. Wiggling it, she said, "Good-hearted sister, look at my pretty, thin tail—just like yours—can't you see we are related? The only difference is I am timid and fearful while you are brave and strong. If you sting your thumb, your heart will also feel the pain—the same as if you hurt me, you will hurt yourself. A snake would never hurt another snake." The Snake politely listened to the Eel's lies and then closed her mouth, covering her poisonous fangs. Before swimming off to look for food, the Snake apologized for her mistake. Laughing about her easy escape, the brown-nose Eel played in the swirling water, and soon the thoughts of danger passed. She relaxed, swayed her head, and continued to dance in the flowing water. Disaster never comes once; it always comes twice, as the saying goes, and as the Eel soon found out. She swam for awhile and followed a narrow stream that emptied into a peaceful-looking pond. The peacefulness soon ended. In the very same pond, only a few feet away, was an enormous Shark. The Shark's spiked

39

teeth gleamed in the bright sunlight, and the polished ivory looked like a thousand daggers, ready to strike. "I've swum the whole river and couldn't find an edible fish," the Shark said, looking directly at the tastylooking Eel. "Now it's your misfortune that you'll satisfy my hunger." Terrified, the brown-nose Eel tried to swim away, but she became tangled in the tall, thick river grass growing at the edge of the pond. The harder she struggled to escape, the tighter the grass wrapped around her fin. Soon sobbing sounds came from the Eel, and she spoke in a whisper, "Sister Shark, you can see my fin is caught in the twisted grass. You have your own fin and I have my own fin—we are related—our only difference is that my fin is tangled! Clearly you can see we are from the same family—we have the same ancestors. Won't you please help me?" Being a polite Shark and believing the Eel's lie, she tugged at the grass until the Eel was free. Enjoying her freedom, the Eel swam swiftly away and felt relieved that she had two happy endings to two near fatal disasters. Thinking about what might have happened made the Eel feel tired. Before long she found a mound of golden sand and curled up to nap in the warm afternoon sun. While she slept the sun moved slowly westward, and she would have continued her dream but a sound—KASA, KASA, KASA—startled her. When she opened her puffy eyes to see what was making the noise, she saw a giant wave coming her way—and riding the wave was the very same Snake and the very same Shark! The Snake with her glistening fangs and the Shark with her daggerlike teeth were both ready to tear the Eel to pieces. This time Eel knew she could not save herself with lies. At once she had an idea and dug deep into the thick, muddy river bottom. She dug down seven layers into the silt—so deep that neither the Snake nor the Shark could find her. But here she has to stay. From that day on, eels continue to live in the seventh layer of mud on the bottom of rivers. They are still afraid to come to the surface.

41

Why Eagles Catch Chickens This story took place during a magic time when mountains could walk and birds could talk. One day long, long ago, the Magpie, the bird of fortune, had just completed building her new house. She wanted to celebrate by having a housewarming party. All her relatives and friends were invited to the party, and the Chicken was to be the guest of honor as she was the Magpie's best friend. The Chicken happily accepted the invitation and was delighted to be the honored guest. As she prepared for the party, she danced around and sang a happy tune, "Oh, what shall I wear? Oh, what shall I wear to the party?" She thought for a long time but could not think of anything to wear. All at once she remembered her special party dress and went to find it. After shaking out the dust and smoothing out the wrinkles, she put it on. "Perfect,"" she thought. "It's perfect." Carefully she put on her makeup and finished powdering her nose. "Now I'm ready to g o . " Earlier she prepared a valuable gift for the Magpie, and the wonderfully wrapped package sat on the table. "Today I want to look beautiful for this special party," she said to herself as she powdered her nose one more time. She raced quickly to the backyard to look at her reflection in the water well. "AIYA!" she gasped and j u m p e d back in horror when she saw her reflection. Mirrored in the water was a bald-headed chicken! "No, no! It can't b e ! " she shrieked. In a flurry she covered the top of her head with her wings. " I look awful! I can't go around with my wings on top of my h e a d , " she cried. " I can't go to the party like this! I'll have to find something to cover my ugly bald head." She thought and thought but could not think of anything to cover her

43

head. "Just calm down," she said to herself. "Just calm down, you'll think of something." And she did. She remembered her neighbor, the Eagle, had a red hat. "Why, I can ask to borrow her hat, and I'll look beautiful at the party. I'll be prettier than a Peacock—and everyone knows the Peacock is the prettiest bird." As the Chicken walked to the Eagle's house, she thought of how she would look wearing the red hat. This thought made her walk faster, and within minutes she was knocking at the Eagle's door. "I have a big problem," she said, standing on the Eagle's front porch. "Today is the Magpie's party, and I'm the guest of honor. Just look at my ugly bald head! I can't go to the party like this. May I please borrow your red hat?" The Eagle, being a generous bird, took off her hat and gave it to the Chicken. At once the Chicken placed the red hat on her head and left for the party. After the party she returned home still wearing the Eagle's hat. First she dashed to the water well to look at her reflection. "So beautiful," she thought. "This red hat is perfect on you!" Then the Chicken took off the hat and looked again, "Aiya!" she sighed. "My bald head looks like a gray sparrow's butt!" As she carried the hat around the backyard, she continued to glance at her reflection in the well. "I won't return the hat to the Eagle. I won't return it!" she said, clenching her beak. With a stomp of her foot, she cried, "IT'S MINE! Even if the sky falls I will not return the hat!" After waiting seven days the Eagle became worried because the Chicken had not come to see her and had not returned her hat. On the morning of the seventh day the Eagle went to find the Chicken. "Where's my hat?" she asked. Bowing her head and showing her bald spot, the Chicken spoke quietly, "Sister Eagle, when I see your shadow my face becomes red with shame.

44

Unfortunately, as I was walking back from the Magpie's house a strong wind blew from Stone Mountain and hurled your hat into the sky. I couldn't save it!" When the Chicken finished, she glanced to see if the trusting Eagle believed the lie. Pretending to be very sorry, the Chicken continued, "If you insist that I return your hat, here are my two hands. They are all 1 have to offer you as a replacement: these two hands borrowed your hat, these two hands also lost your hat." Extending her hands toward the Eagle, she said, "Here, cut off my hands and take them." For several minutes the Eagle stared at the Chicken without saying a word. Finally, she stepped back slowly and said, "After all, the wind took my hat. Why should I cut off your hands? What good would that do?" The Eagle turned away. What else could she do? "It's gone. My red hat is gone," the Eagle mumbled to herself and walked unhappily away. As the Eagle continued walking, the Chicken spat in her direction. "Foolish Eagle," the Chicken spat again. "Don't ever think you'll get the hat back—unless the sun rises in the west and sets in the east." A few weeks later, as the Eagle flew high above the clouds, she saw something that looked like a small red dot moving around on the ground. She flew lower. The red dot became larger—and larger—until she could see that the red dot was her HAT! The Chicken's story about the wind taking her hat had been a lie! Then she saw who was wearing her hat: the swindling, cheating Chicken! Fire shone from the Eagle's eyes, and they glowed red—as red as the hat. She tucked in her wings and flew straight toward the Chicken, grabbing for the hat. Chickens, however, have very sharp eyes and she saw the Eagle. With all her might the Chicken held on to the hat so that the Eagle could not pull it off. Again the Eagle swooped, extending her sharp claws to grab the hat, but the Chicken held it in place. This time the Chicken held so tightly to the

45

red hat that, when the Eagle grabbed it and tore it to shreds, it attached itself to the top of Chicken's bald head. The jagged remains of the Eagle's red hat became what is called the Chicken's comb. And now you know why chickens' hats are red and shaped like exaggerated saws, and why eagles no longer wear hats. Also, you know the reason why eagles try to catch chickens. Eagles have especially long memories and are still mad about the lying, cheating Chicken and about losing the hat.

About the Author Carolyn Han has boon Fascinated with China and the minority people lor years. In

1985.

alter receiving an M.A. in English from San Diego State I niversitv, she taught for a y e a r at C h o n g q i n g I niyersitv in Sichuan. An opportunity to learn m o r e about minority people led her South ol the Clouds to Y u n n a n . Living in the capital city of K u n m i n g and teaching at Y u n n a n Institute ol the Nationalities allowed her to work with people Irom twenty-two dillerent minority groups. S h e began collecting and retelling folktales b e c a u s e she saw the need to preserve the stories in rapidly changing China and to share the rich cultural diversity of the Middle K i n g d o m with readers of English. S h e now teaches English at Hawai'i C o m munity C o l l e g e during the a c a d e m i c year and spends winter and s u m m e r breaks in China. Her previous books are both published by the I niversity ol Hawai'i Press: If hv Snails Shells:

Minority

and

Han

Folktales

of

Have China,

1 9 9 3 , is a collection of twenty tales for children and adults; The Demon lestival

Folktales

of China,

Kin£

and

Other

1 9 9 5 , explains the

origins ol lour minority lestivals and how they are celebrated today.

About the Translator J a i h o C h e n g has b e e n a " b r i d g e a n d west book

h\

Irom

b e t w e e n cast

translating the folktales Chinese

into

l.nglish.

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he

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defi-

n i t i o n a n d c o m e up w i t h a clear story. H e discusses t h e tales w i t h C a r o l y n l l a n . w h o w r i t e s t h e m d o w n and then works and reworks (hem. Since the \ a k h i folktales were translated f r o m N a k h i to ( . h i ñ e s e a n d t h e n i n t o l . n "f-l i s h . it is likelv

that

details

were

lost

or

changed.

To

m a k e sure the lolktales m a i n t a i n t h e i r original c h a r a c t e r , it t o o k m a n y

discussions.

T r a i n e d as an e n "t-i n e e r . J a i h o Chen«; is a b l e t o use his p r o l e s s i o n a l

skills lor

translation.

H e sees l a n g u a g e as m a d e u p o l l i n k s , a n d he knows that the links

need to h o l d

in

the

order

""bridge' He

to transport

reader

together

across

the

I r o m C h i n e s e to K n g l i s h .

was

horn

in T a i w a n

to

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Z h e j i a n g l ' r o \ i n c e in C h i n a . A l t e r

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completing

an e n g i n e e r i n g d e g r e e I r o m T a m k a n g I d i v e r sity i n Taiwan, he a t t e n d e d g r a d u a t e s c h o o l i n Calilornia

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J a i h o C h e n g is a s t r u c t u r a l e n g i n e e r a n d l i \ e s in H i l o . I l a w a i ' i .

About the Illustrator Li Ji. the award-winning artist Irom Yunnan, began his career at a young age. On Sundaxs he \ ¡sited the Kunming Zoo and sketched animals. At age lourteen. he was chosen to attend Sielnian l ine Art Institute in Chongqing, Vlter graduation in IQiiy. he staved on to complete an advanced degree in printmaking in i