Inventing History

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Inventing History
By:
Neboja Spasi
Translated into English: Nevenka Spasi
TALE ONE
There is a point when every mans marriage threats to backslide into monotony, which can turn the once-lovers into adversaries. Marital bonds become a toil and the spouses turn into demoniac delight-takers in the torment they create. Every occurrence becomes an admixture of the crackling of the infernal fire, frightening every soul that comes across these lovesufferers. When the malady of hatred seizes the former newly-weds of the People of Zorum, there where the Pontic Mounts meet Ararat, it is well known that not even the wells of Euphrates are able to quench the oncoming blazes; than the Sorcerer has to have his say.
t is supposed that the existence of the following custom can be traced back to the early 2nd century BC.
JOINT The Sorcerer goes to the forest to search for a two-forked hazel-branch. Having found the suitable one, he removes all the leaves, interlaces it to have it look like interlocked arms, tying it together with a leather-strap and bringing it to the house of the wretches. While crossing the threshold, he orders: - Man, give the trough! The man obeys.
- Woman, milk! and the woman fills the trough. The Sorcerer carefully lays the branch into the milk and commands: - The milk shall not perish! Then he bids farewell till the next full moon. By that day, the branch is to be kept in fresh milk. Then is the time for the wise man to return. This time the man is pouring water over the hazel, while the woman is rubbing it. Having finished the washing of the ritual object, they hang it on the fire-place to dry, talking to the Sorcerer to make the time pass. After a while, the old man gets up, takes the branch and having removed the strap, throws it into the blazes. Then he commands: - The shirts! Both the Husband and the Wife are giving their shirts worn during the wedding ceremony. He tears them into stripes which he binds at the bottom, in the middle and on the top of the branch of a hazelnut tree. Making of the Joint While tying the male and the female stripes together, the Sorcerer says: -Im binding the Root of the Joint! The spouses say in unison : - Bind the Root of the Joint! - Im binding the Joint in the Middle! - Bind the Joint in the Middle! - Im binding the Head of the Joint! - Bind the Head of the Joint! He dips the wool into the glue, which he has prepared for the purpose and fills the empty space of the hazel-fork with it: - No thoughts like a sheep! The spouses: - No thoughts like a sheep! - No words like a sheep! -No words like a sheep! - Meek like a sheep! The couple : - Meek like a sheep! - Milk like a sheep! Husband and wife repeat: - Milk like a sheep!
The Hair Now the Sorcerer is cutting womans hair to glue it onto the head of the fork: - Give the Joint your hair! (exclaiming the name of the woman) - I am giving my hair! exclaims the woman. Having wrapped the hair around the Joint he focuses it awaiting an answer
- The Joint is taking the Hair proclaims. The same procedure with the mans hair follows until the Joint accepts the male hair too.
The Valuables follow The Sorcerer demands: Give the Joint gold!. The couple is putting few pieces of their most precious jewellery and several golden coins, solemnly proclaiming that they give the Joint their Gold. Now all the three decorate in silence the Joint with the valuables. - The Joint receives the gifts!
The Kiss The Sorcerer brings the Joints to the woman: - Kiss the Root! She does it. - Kiss the Middle! She does that too. - Kiss the Head! The woman kisses the Head. Now it is mans turn to kiss the Joint. Having finished, the Sorcerer asks both of them: - Do you take the Joint? - We do!
The Protection The Sorcerer now takes the woman from one side and the man from the other and, their arms interlocked around the waists of each other, they start turning around, so that the old man is the axis of the dancing wheel. As it rotates quicker, he is cursing the Evil. When the spell is cast, the wheel starts turning the opposite direction. Now he is blessing the Joint, held by the spouses arms behind his back. As he is speaking, the wheel echoes the magic words, increasing the revolving speed more and more.
The Place The Joint is to be kept hidden behind the curtain in the Niche, which the old man has previously prepared in the bedroom wall.
The Decorations At the end of the ceremony the spouses get a present. A handful of black and white sticks. These are, depending on the colour, to be the bearers of complaints or sympathies expressed
in the form of a symbol, or in writing should the couple be a literate one. They are the white and the black adornment of the Joint.
The End From time to time, a boy belonging to the Sorcerer visits the couple and collects the jewellery. Having received them, the old man invites the couple to discuss the problems and at the end, in a fire ritual, he delivers the black sticks of discord to the flames. And that is how they still do it at the foot of the Mount of Ararat.
TALE TWO
his nuptial object was used in the region of the river by the name of Dardania, with boundaries that perished in the depth of time. The story about it originates from the environs of Elbasan, where the traces of the ritual, our artefact bears witness to, still exist. It is so old that Lessander himself could have had it in his bedroom! exclaimed a connoisseur jokingly.
THE SALTY HEAD
At the very end of the wedding ritual, and as the crown of the whole thing, the priest would place this object before the bride to kiss its both cheeks Having done that in silence and bowed to all the present, she would listen to her rights and obligations read from the small scroll of waxed fabric or a parchment, which would then be placed at the suitable place on the Salty head. The groom to be would then be allowed to take three handfuls of salt out of the wooden bowl held by his future father-in-law and pour it into the dish on the top of the ritual object, thus finishing the ceremony. The Salty head would be then pompously displayed on the most auspicious place in the bedroom to oversee and protect the love-life of the newlyweds. The dish that makes the top of the object can nowadays be used for fruits and vegetables to intensify the possible magic effect that ritual objects usually possess.
TALE THREE
ukinie flows partly into the lake of Leopold and partly feeds the great river of Congo, giving it strength down to the Atlantic Ocean. There, in the environs of the Leopold lives, fishes and hunts the people of Lukinie.
THE EGGER VIPER-TRAP
The basket which is the artefact of our story bears witness to the marital deals of the indigenous people, or more precisely, to the pre-marital agreement. One calls it The Egger. As matter of fact, it is only partly to be called that, as for its second half it is a Viper-trap. And this is how it happens:
The Lukinie maiden makes the flexible basket, creates a dent from the outside, puts several eggs into the dent and ties a ribbon on both sides of it to make a handle. Doing that, she takes good care to leave enough of room in the inside of the basket, intended for the contents of completely different nature. She spends the day in reflection upon marriage, and in the evening she sets for the abode of her chosen one. She steals to the hut and hangs the Egger on the hook suspended down the roof. She rips off a small piece of the fabric handle and leaves quickly. The torn bit of ribbon she will hang on the hook of her hut and then shell go to bed to embrace a restless night. At the break of the next morning, the household members who have already noticed the basket, wake the young man, and addressing him mockingly as the Egger, give him the eggs to suck them out. Now it is his turn to catch the viper with the basket-trap, kill it by strangling it with the ribbon-handle, and put it back into the basket. The same evening he pays a secret visit to the maidens house and hangs the basket with the dead viper in it on the hook. A torn piece of a ribbon he takes with himself. The next morning the girl will be woke by the childrens hubbub: Snake, snake!. The girl is happy and relieved. Not long after that arrives mother-in-law to be, loaded with presents for the girl ...
TALE FOUR
he Object originates from the area of Naryan Mar situated between the small and the great tundra, bathed and watered by the Barents sea. The copy has been made after the original from the collection of the Shamanistic tools belonging to Eugenius Zaichikhoff from St. Petersburg. TARTA AHAL
It is exclusively a female tool with a very simple usage. The Shaman woman dresses a small doll in a festive clothes and places it into the House of Seven Devils, also known as The Infernal House. They call it Tarta ahal. The doll is to be placed on a miniature drum; to hold with her left hand the golden wire stringed among seven black wires.
The woman drinks out green, mint-like brandy and starts drumming (on) the dolls pedestal with small hammer-like sticks, droning sorcery. By the time the second cycle is completed it takes several of them for the entire sorcery the woman will fall into trance. At first her body is caught with spasmodic contractions and she is only muttering abstrusely. Then, all of a sudden, she calms down completely and starts performing some of the following operations: making of talismans, foretelling the future, communicating messages from the realm of the dead, or healing the sick ones.- She gave Eugenius a good medicine for his wife Regaining the full consciousness , the Shaman woman bathes the doll in water to purify it. Friend Eugenius explained that the doll represents the Shaman woman, and that its purpose is to gather and neutralise the power of the evil spirits she communicates with. However, there is another, more recent, Voodoo-like usage of Tarta ahal. The people entangle a bird or a small animal with the wires, glue on it the hairs, pieces of clothes, even the excrements of the enemy theyd punish and then release a predator: a cat, a dog, a snake or a falcon. The poor victim dies of dread before being torn apart.
TALE FIVE
he people of Yikshai from Southeast Syria practise, now for centuries, this very efficient custom of fuming. The life of these people is to such an extent intertwined with making smoke that even their sayings are fumed: Fumed grandmother merry girl work in the smoke gain in the pocket; a donkey in the fumes a horse in the race. One could almost claim their fuming corresponds to a great extent our greasing, lacquering, varnishing, putting make-up, filling.
THE FUMER
Fuming in the Joy-house
When the merciful lady of the love receives her guest in her honey room, she places him on the floor to sit (this looks rather like the Japanese Tatami). Then she grabs a small light table without the upper part, made of linden tree, and places it over the radiant visitor, so that the youngling looks like the child in the pen, waiting for its favourite toy .With a swift move, the lady elegantly throws a cloth over the table in the way that our brave young man would certainly fall into complete darkness if not for the hole on the cloth, in the size of a larger pancake, through which his head is peeping. Having thus covered the table, she is placing a fine, in oriental manner decorated wooden tray before his chin. In the middle of the tray shed place a dish filled with perfumed water for his nose. On both sides of it the candles are placed. The damsel deprives herself of clothes slowly. The youngsters nostrils are filled with the sweet perfume. She places a piece of Hashish onto the glowing coals in the fumer and presses it several times The young man breads heavier and heavier into the dish under his nose. The lady takes the Fumer , crawls with it under the table and sticks her head through the same whole in the tablecloth. Trembling with expectation he is watching the play of the shadows that the candle light is throwing upon the pretty face. There are the male and the female head on the table, separated by the odorous tray. The breath is disturbing the candle flames. While reading each others face, the fille de joie is pressing the fumer under the table. The visitor is undressing himself. The light stands still, everything stands still. Two motionless faces. The table is now completely set. Supper is about to begin. Marriage The bride to be is filled with anxiety because of her first appearance among the wedding guests. Her relatives and friends are helping her bathe and put her wedding gown. Signs of panic grow. Her mother cannot take it any longer, so she takes the fumer, puts it under the bridal gown and fumes for a while. Similar use with the sleeping dress before the first wedding night. Harem The lucky ones possessing a harem have sometimes to face the misfortune of having a bunch of malcontended women, to the detriment for the fun of the whole bunch. In this case, one should resort to preventive fuming: before the very beginning of the amusement, the most experienced of all the ladies lights the fumer and blows the smokes coming out of it into the faces of her mates, muttering something for as long as she doesnt get giggling as an answer. Then the warrior enters... Children Small children cry oft for all possible reasons, and the parents sometimes lack the forbearance. Therefore the children are fumed. And there comes peace into the Yikshai family Other applications: At the feasts to enhance the appetite, in the public bathrooms, at formal and other gatherings to deepen understanding, on the occasions of contract-making...
PS Serbs use the fumer in a shamelessly uniform and dull manner. They fill it with pieces of ragged clothes which are set to fire, in order to stupefy poor bees, so that they peaceably sustain plundering of the fruits of their labour. Im afraid this statement could after all be a blunder. Serbs do have more sophisticated methods of fuming in a variety of occasions .One wouldnt find it weird at all if the fivepointed-star from the national banner would have been replaced by the fumer instead of those four croissants.
TALE SIX he object is obtained in the year if 1986 in the South of Kurdistan. Bought from an acquaintance for 2600 German Marks. The artefact lacks its fiddle-bow The head and the neck part are reconstructed. It should consist of the head of the instrument, the neck with the hair-strings, resonance box filled with the rest of the hair and closed with a piece of a cow skull, the bow, and the drumming-sticks
TAR - THE QUIET GUSLE Should it happen that the woman unskilfully tries to conceal her marital treason, there is no divorce or beating. The treatment is perhaps more humane than in any place else in the world. She is summoned to the Eldest one of the village who shaves hear head and sends her to sit at the threshold of her house. Having done her daily chores, shell sit there, day by day, until her hair grows long enough to cover her ears. The bald woman takes two sticks and hits one against the other This, of course, has the effect of attracting as first the children, then the hags, and at the end vicious neighbours. Having assembled the audience, the poor woman lays the sticks aside, takes the fiddle-bow and starts strumming on the loose cords which the Eldest-one made of her own hairs. This soundless music of the Tar is accompaniment for the words, which the hairless is obliged to give utterance to, and which describe her pitiful position and how she got into it. The audience is encouraging to sing louder and in more detail. She then must do as they require, but she is not allowed to lie about it or make it sound more harmless than it really was. The punishment for such a thing would be forcing her into the poverty, and the poverty of the area is sandy and barren. In such a way the adulteress spends her days awaiting that the hair tickles her ear laps, thus feeding the smiles of the malicious audience with her misery.
*Gusle is an ancient Serbian one-string instrument used to accompany the singing of national
epic poetry.
TALE SEVEN
t the very South of the Kara-kum desert, there still lives the small town of Ashabad, quietly watching the tract of the Tavzhen river, gasping its life in the sands. Thats the place where they cook stones. According to a legend, the people have been doing this even before the Great flood, although no one knows exactly why. It seems retarded that such a senseless action could become a part of the folklore because the sound sense of the community would thus be challenged, so it remains us to trust that this ritual conceals in itself some ancient truth
STONE SUPPER
Having successfully stood the proofs of the one year long betrothal trial, and as an introductory ceremony to the wedding itself, the young couple had to observe the ritual of the stone-cooking. It is to be waited for the full-moon night, so that the copper-pot can be hang upon the hook suspended over the fire-place made in the courtyard. Shortly before midnight, the four people
will take their place on the three-legged stools, facing south: an old man, an old woman and the engaged couple. The old couple fills the copper pot with water, while the young ones are lighting the fire. Then they quietly sit back and wait. Soon the water starts simmering, then boiling. The old woman hands the girl the contents of a bag she was holding on her lap: -Spice it she says The girl takes a handful of spices, pours them into the hot foam and stirs until the odorous vapours start tickling her nostrils Then she takes a seat again. Silence It doesnt take long when the old man hands the boy the bundle hes been keeping on his knees, and pointing with his head towards the fireplace he says: -Cook it!The groom to be approaches the pot and carefully places the silk bundle into the odorous foam, taking good care not to disturb the swirl. Then he slowly and cautiously takes the empty silk bundle out and hangs it on the hook. -Done!- A sigh of relief
Round white stone is bathing in the hot foam. Waiting. The moon slides over the skies very slowly here, looking like a luxurious woman halted by the looks of an unexpected passerby. And that bit of life, squatting in the hand of the Tavzen delta is soundlessly praying the skies not to bestow it with a hot and dry day. -The water! reminds the old woman softly, as if she would be afraid to scare the moon off, and hands over the sack with the dried herbs. And again, the maid takes a handful of spices; with the wooden spoon shell pour boiling water over the stone, and then add the herbs she is squeezing in her hand .She stops for a moment, takes a deep breath of intoxicating evaporation and returns to her place. The old womans smile seems very precise and correct .Everything seems to be precise and correct and in its place. Everything looks so terribly beautiful . Feed the fire old mans elbow softly touches the youngster. The blazes lick the pot now more fiercely, colouring the copper with all shades of bluish and red. Then he spices the stone with the offered herbs, his eyes shut, he inhales the benumbing scents and quietly returns to his place. The moon looks now ghastly and lonesome.
Silence into the shimmers of the copper, into the sweet foam ascending towards the moon in an attempt to embrace it, the sounds of foam merging with untroubled sound of the night. The betrothed know now what they must do. They zealously feed the fireplace, add the water and sprinkle the stone with the herbs. As the night passes, they become more and more masterly. One after the other, without being asked to, in almost perfect harmony they perform the ritual. The Moon is glowing as if it were the oncoming tide, as if it were a wave deluging the earth and the skies. There is a point where one cant tell who is feeding, who is pouring, who spicing, and who is looking to the moon, fire, the boiling, fuming stone ... The youngster throws up and falls. His fiance is sitting and staring at the fire. Dawn. Softly cuddling the hairs of the sleeping head, old mans dry, bony hand wakes the young man. -Lets go to the river! Drowsy youngling jumps and instinctively embraces the stone the old man gave him. The water has already been putting out the thirst of several animals. Morning birds ... This is the most beautiful time of the day in the Tavzhen delta, and people usually see that they dont miss it; this time there was no one to disquiet the sounds of the river, to distract the small group of people returning the water its stone. The betrothed entered the water deeper, deprived themselves of clothes, let them into the stream and took a long, purifying swim. Holding the two long white shirts, the old couple was watching them silently smiling. -It is cold! said the man and signalled them with his arm to approach. The young ones came out of water to have the shirts put on them. They turned around to have one more look at the river; their clothes were already out of sight. ... Each one in their own bed, the two sheep were dreaming a dream about the Wedding, the fire, the stone and the moon, water of Tavzhen that dries before their feet. When they wake up theyll shortly say yes or no.
TALE EIGHT
he usage of the object being the principal material element in the tale about to be delivered is being practised in the North of Afghanistan ever since the second century BC, and it is believed that it still lives in the remote villages of this area.
THE GRIEVER
Should a man lose his beloved spouse, he must not take another woman for the next two years, but he has to exercise the following rite immediately after the funeral: He goes to the forest, finds a birch-tree and cuts and peels two branches. Having returned home, he ties them together nicely and places them at the empty side of the matrimonial bed. For the next two years he will spend his nights with them. When the years of solitude elapse, he may decide to remain alone. Some widowers, though, go to see the Old man and claim the griever from him, and this case is of interest for us. While chanting some incomprehensible verses, the Old man makes the griever out of clay and builds the pieces of the birch branches that the widower brought along into this curious vessel. He then performs something like a blessing dance, with movements ungraspable to the mind of the observer. The man pays, thanks the Wise man and takes his leave. At home, he will dig a hole in the center of his yard, stick a prop in the height of a man in it and its top he will decorate with the griever. Then he takes a long rope and ties a dog to the prop to defend the griever. The woman interested entering a liaison, or even bonds of marriage, with the widower must break the griever with the stone, untie the dog and make it eat out of her hand. Having successfully performed these she is entitled to become the new mistress of the house.
TALE NINE
ven though there is plenty of water, food and space in the Kivu lake area, the naked ape of Simburunga is always on guard. Since he doesnt have powerful horns or mighty and sharp teeth to bare, what is left to him is to think, comprehend and be cautious, but most of all, to take good care not to violate any of the community principles. The habits and the rules of the Simburunga are not exactly very stern, one could rather claim that there exist the law of love and mutual respect among the tribal members; still, sometimes it happens that one falls asleep and involuntarily takes the possessions of his neighbour. In this case he awakens in the Groove
GROOVE
It is a tree out of the dim past with a tremendous crown, making a luxurious shade over carefully mowed meadow surrounding it like an enormous green plate. It is possible to hold an assembly of around five hundred people, so that more than a half would be in its shade all day long. For the climate of Congo, a very pleasant place to be.
Groove is a small trough of a size of human underarm, made to look like a part of a tree-peel, being skilfully attached to it, is the implement of torture for an evil-doer, and the tree itself his judge. This trough is made of a hyena skin prepared with the pulp of tar cooked with mistletoe, and it resembles the tree so very much that one cannot tell for sure whether its been there forever or not. Castigation treatment is performed as follows: Having being brought to the judgement tree, the sinner raises his arms and is tied down to the tree with thick ropes. Then his best sheep is brought to him, its head being rubbed against his roped legs several times; he has to watch the poor creature being slaughtered, afterwards being smeared all over with its blood to attract the insects of all kinds. The legs of the sheeps skin are to be carefully peeled off, as well as several stripes from its belly. The wretched man gets his right, already completely numb arm untied and the skin-leg put over the underarm, being then sewn down to the groove with the belly-skin stripes. While waiting for the groove to dry, thus creating greater and greater discomfort for the evildoer, the tribe is roasting his sheep and morally slaying the culprit. Feeding him curses and nasty words, wicked jokes and vicious ridicule. They even throw stones and gnawed bones at him. This feast of tormenting draws itself out till the sunset, and when the darkness starts swallowing the shapes, the executors start taking their leave. The last one to leave is the one to whom the damage is done. He takes a blunt, almost useless knife, and throwing the last, deep look into the eyes of the woeful one, he puts the blade into his left hand Then he unties it, throws the rope over his shoulder disappearing in the bush, with or without a farewell. The dusk stirs the smeary shapes of the scenery. The sun abandons the great tree and the small man. All that remains is the night and the blade in the free hand to relieve the deadly scared one. That is the trial of the great tree.
Walking along the Kivu banks you can meet two old aged men, smiling at you and hiding a crippled right hand behind their back. They both are almost as respected as the tribal Sorcerer, because they are also very wise and their counsel is highly appreciated.
*The exhibit is a copy made after the photos of the original torturing-trough
TALE TEN
he utensil we are going to deal with in the following story is used by the South-eastern Bengalis. More precisely, it originates from Madaripur, the dump area that sinks into the waters of the Bengali bay. This piece of the armamentarium of the Bengali sleeping-chambers is very likely to be the laughing stock of the present times; still it had been a very important part of the ritual practice almost as old as human sexuality.
LOVE ROPE - HAIRY SNAKE Having completed the formal part of the wedding and the feast commenced, the mothers of the newly-weds are to sneak-out to a secluded chamber in order to prepare the magic liquor out of herbal essences, wild boars slobber and the aphrodisiac Apelli-root. They brew it until it becomes pulpy, thick, green juice of intoxicating quality. The newlyweds are invited into the room and ordered to undress. The girls Mother is bathing the young man, and his Mother is bathing his bride. Now they cut their hairs, dry the couple and rub them with the magic liquor .They dress them into long, white linen shirts and send them back to the feast, where they are going to sit still, half benumbed and with no obvious interest in the celebrations that are gaining in intensity. The two women throw the hairs into a basket and mix them well. Now they add the tree-glue to the magic liquor and soak a lengthy linen cloth in it. The sticky cloth is now put into the basket with hairs, which is to be shaken and tumbled until all the hairs are glued on it. This hairy tope is to be dried at the fireplace, with the aid of big, for this purpose specially made fans. The dry rope is bundled and placed into a basket made of henna leaves. Mothers crown the hairy bundle with an apple an close the basket, which they will now anoint with the liquor. The couple is given a silent sign to retire to their chamber. The basket is awaiting on the pillow. They undress and sit on bed. Now they eat the apple without touching it with their hands. They entangle themselves in the rope and ... the man probably goes to sleep, as usual. The hairy rope is to be used one year long; after that the basket with it is either to be hang upon the hook on the wall or to be placed in a small niche in the bedroom wall. For protection purposes, as well as for smooth touch the rope can be put into a silky cover.
This one I got from a friend, antiquarian from Bhatpar, who apologised for the missing rope. I therefore made one myself and added it to the basket.
TALE ELEVEN
he custom of Karacha knacking is practised in the South of new Guinea, in the Zai tribe. Halila lasting smile - ,a very nice Zai peasant, revealed it to us, and it is exactly how it is going to be retold in her own words
KARACHA THE KNACKER
- First you get married, and then you walk around the village to show everybody how you are kissing and cuddling each other, because you are married and if you werent the Zais would beat you and punish you in every thinkable manner, and like this it is allowed. - Your relatives walk behind you and feed everybody: the people and the animals. And they give them to drink too. - Everybody is joking with you mentioning the knacking all the time: There wont be any bread, not even for a mouse, call me too so that we can make bread together, knack the nuts.... - And the children shout: Nuts, nuts, nuts! ... and all laugh. - And then the Aunties bring you to the Nut-hut. That is a small wooden house.
- The Aunties take some sort of a frame made of four broad planks and fill it to the brim with walnuts. And then they cover the bed made in such a manner with the blanket and the sheet and leave. - You lie down and knack the walnuts all the night. The more, the better. - And you can hear the people sneaking and whispering around the nut-hut. You laugh but you dont stop knacking. Till dawn. - And then you go down to the river, together with all those sneakers and whisperers to cool down. - And the women bake bread only out of wheat and your nuts. - They make a big one, and when it is baked, they shout: Come, its ready, look how big it is ! and all praise the bread. - Thats how it is. And she added: - Last year we were able to feed the cows with the bread too, thats the best sign. They got many calves . That this was the reason for plenty of calves was a bit too much for us, but all the same, it looks like the knacking brings good fortune to the People of Zai.
TALE TWELWE
nvoking vampires is less known, though not less performed practice (on almost all Meridians), for which purpose different traps and baits are used. There are two reasons for invoking the vampire. The first one is to relieve him and give him peace. The second, and not often mentioned, is for the love objectives, in which way it becomes the means of communication between the World of the living and the World of the dead. The enticement here described is being used in our geographic widths ever since for the purposes of lovemaking.
THE THIRSTMAKER
If you are a widow of a person that turned into a vampire, often being craving for the past love happiness, you might find the following utensil very useful: In the night of favourable moon deprive yourself of all clothes and hang the prepared Thirstmaker around your neck. Face the direction of the grave of your beloved one and call his name several times. And when the tears start misting your sight and your heart becomes overflown with emotions, the past events shall become very clear and almost real before your eyes. Continue calling, rubbing your body as if you were bathing yourself. The deceased shall hear you and appear. As soon as he is there, lay the Thirst maker down and go to bed. And the Nature will take her course. How to make sure the Thirst-maker functions properly: - Soak a piece of bread in your own blood and place it into the mouth of the Thirstmaker - Attach the photo / a piece of fabric cut from the funeral clothes of the deceased one. This is called Closing of the Thirst-makers mouth (some experts tend to assume that the mouth is to be closed with the photograph of the offered sacrifice, while some others support the attitude that for the mouth closing one should use the photograph, or a lock of hair of the person who performs the invocation. Anyhow an experimental proof is needed. - Have a sorcerer make a special incense mixture and burn it in the Thirstmaker; the experienced performers of the ritual in question may omit this element. - In order to intensify the invocation speak the simple spell given to you by the sorcerer - Avoid water three days before and three after the ritual Supplement: In the Middle ages women used to practice a collective Thirstmaker ritual. The result was an introduction of very close relations with the afterlife World, and the vampires-knights behaved towards their living ladies in accordance with all the rules of the knighthood codex. Sometimes at the request of the female fraternity the whole wars between the two worlds would break out. Many of these ladies obtained in this manner very high social and political positions. Some are apt to claim that under the influence of such occult guilds the flow of history was sometimes changed, and that even nowadays the world is not deprived of the services of such and similar immortal associations and bonding with the world beyond the tomb.
TALE THIRTEEN
nce there was a God that threw a bundle on his shoulder and appeared in the kindergarten of Mankind dressed as a beggar; since he didnt want to introduce himself, his person was named by every age in its own manner according to the abilities of its speaking apparatus, even with the thumb in the mouth, rotating it from one language into the other: Toth,Tehuti, Zeus, Theos, Deus ... According to him, the truth was essentially at the closest possible place, and the Earth the mirror of the Heavens. Most probably it was the parallels he was permanently drawing on the relation earth heavens that made the poorest pupils attach the wings on his sandals, and start calling him a thief, a tradesman, a warlock, a spy, even a conservative, taking for granted his inclination towards travelling and disguise. To be honest he was indeed a wanderer, with very potent acting talent, and exactly this is going to exert crucial influence on loads of his followers the bundle-bearers, during the entire history. Should someone, for one reason or another, come to the idea of doubting this story, refusing to notice the immediate presence of this god, he should go to India, a land of wonders, and meet the most elementary Hermes, whose worst copy we came across in Tanjiri, south of Bombay.
FEMALE BOX
The villain
Stinky and his hairs idiotically slicked, he was sitting amidst the bouquet of colourful saris, taking delight in giggles and shrieking of the village lads. He resembled a harem owner which the next day made him envious about himself. A King of the moment. In reality, the creator of this magic picture was a pathetic, foolish manager of a certain mouse whose permanent abode was the so called ladys box. This mouse house, painted black, suspended upon a rope made of female hair, was most of the time dangling down the shoulder of the mentioned imbecile, swinging from village to village at a loosely set plan.
The mouse This bumping and jolting down the village roads makes the small inhabitant of the female box quite nervous. He cant even bread in peace except for the moments when his bearer and manager, the scum, takes a little rest to satiate his need for food or drink, But, the worst of all is when they arrive in the village. The box hits the floor and the hubbub around it fills the small creature with horror. The lid is lifted and the shower of unbearable light hits the squatting mouse. Infernal noise. Not being able to resist the smell of food, the starved animal comes out to the grey blanket. No food in sight, only six seven pairs of girls palms leaning on the blanket and deliciously smelling after cheese an bacon. Treachery again! He quickly decides for the smelliest of all palms, and before he makes it for the sleeve of its owner to search for the hidden food, the slimy, wet hand of a fakir grabs him and returns him into the box. Darkness again. And hunger. He doesnt even make it to get a deep breath when the roof of his dwelling goes up again. The mouse is again on the grey blanket staring at the hand with wide spread fingers leaning on it. Between the gentle fingers four pieces of cheese await. The animal quickly chooses one, but before his stomach is able to take the delight of it, the miserable fakir returns him into the box without forgetting to take the tasty bite away I wish a cat would eat me the poor thing was cursing his life, knowing there will be more bumping to come, that theyll scare him over and over again with their hubbub inconceivable to his small mind, that hell be starved again as if he were some felon. The ritual The exhausted wanderer found a shady place on his road between the two villages. Dinner for two. Hed open the box and throw the leftovers from his meal in it. Usually some cheese, bread, vegetables, sometimes bacon. Usual goods hed get as present for having such low prices for his services. Here, at their resting place, the fakir would count the money they earned and afterwards hed dedicate himself to his beauty sleep. Just before theyd leave hed squeeze the leftovers of the food till his hands became disgustingly greasy and then he would dress his hair until it becomes stiff and shiny. Having successfully accomplished this, he would rub his stinky hands
against his clothes, fold the big, dirty grey blanket, swing the ladys box on his shoulder and started for the next village, crowned with an insect aureole. The village usually welcomes the travellers with barking of the dogs and jokes of the brats, that quickly carry the news around about the magnificent arrival of the female luck-seller, as the villain dares introducing himself. The grey blanket is skilfully spread and quickly occupied by a fakir, the black box in front of his feet and six to seven excited, for marriage eligible young women. Having provided for the main condition for successful outcome by cuddling the scums greasy hair which was under no circumstance unpleasant to him the curious girls would lay their palm on the lid of the box. It was to be revealed which one of them would be the first one to grab herself a husband, which was to be decided by the mouse. Being squeezed into the role of the poor Paris (with detrimental consequences though), but with little less time to make up his decision, the mouse had to climb the smelliest palm. Shaking and screaming: the first bride to be. Forced back into the box. The greasy fox would now swiftly take four balls knead out of cheese representing the future husband, and put them between the fingers of the same hand so that the mouse could be released out of his prison to chose the tastiest one. And then again hunger in the dark. The picture After she found out the most important thing, the first of the ladies would gladly agree to the next two steps of the necessary treatment, consisting of the palm-reading and giving of a suitable charm to pave the way of luck in the destined course of life. Ant that was all there is to it. The ladies were impatiently waiting for their turn, giggling and yelling, scurrying and exhausting the poor animal. The female-luck-tradesman would by the dusk evaluate the situation and decide whether it would pay off staying for one more day, although it was more reasonable to leave and spend the night elsewhere. One never knows. The cat What follows to be said, according to the lamentation of our villain shall have a tragic ending, and the calamity person is going to be the mouse, so let this be a small In memoriam for him: Im sitting and making the ladies hot on my mouse and my hair, when I notice that the beast wont work, although I know hes hungry; I bang the ground to give him a little kick, but he keeps running into his box, squatting in the corner. Fuck it! The girls have just became hot, and I see the option for lots of money, when all of a sudden a cat like this fell from the sky, like a bear he was, I tell you, grabbed my support and run away. And this is what happened: envious apes, unable to get the chicks on their own, paid the kids to throw the cat on the blanket and screw my business up. It took me a lot of time to find another one, but this one isnt white. So Id painted him. Fuck it! Its a shame but a normal risk when you are in the business. That is the end.

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