The art of Mayan storytelling
Storytelling is something I am trying to get better at, so I was very excited to find a collection of Mayan fables during my recent trip in Mexico at this lovely bookstore in Puerto Morelos. The book The Bird Who Cleans The World and Other Mayan Fables by Victor Montejo, published in 1992, comprises thirty-two Mayan fables and animal stories compiled and transcribed by the author from Jakaltek-Maya language spoken in Guatemala. I love the idea of collecting and transcribing oral fables and legends in order to save them from falling into oblivion.
El Castillo at Chichen Itza, Mexico. July 2021
The author recalls his mother telling him stories by the fire, which sounds magical:
“During my childhood, whenever I wanted to listen to my mother telling Mayan stories, I brought my chair close to the kitchen fire where she cooked the tortillas, pleading: “Mother, let’s tell stories again. Please tell me the story of the injured little dove.” Then, my mother would laugh. This is the first story I remember her telling me, and she knew that I liked her stories very much. So, while the firewood burned under the comal (a big circular clay pan) cooking delicious tortillas of yellow corn, my mother would recall her memories, and then, with the captivating voice of a storyteller, she would start her stories in our Jakaltek-Maya language.
The same ritual has been performed for hundreds of years, repeating stories of mighty gods, explaining natural phenomena, and teaching moral values.
In my favorite fable, a clever cricket defeated jaguars with the help of a rabbit and wasps. I’ll also remember the story about how dogs stopped talking and received tails instead, as well as the one about how we harm our own lives by cutting down trees. I even came across a fable that is relevant to my field and it made me think of mosquitos differently, recognizing them as organisms that fight for survival every day, not just as carriers of infectious diseases. These stories are indeed powerful :).
I appreciate the stories I've read even more because my family has never had a strong story-telling tradition. My mother would tell made-up bedtime stories, perhaps with a little bit of teaching thrown in, or read me stories popular in Western culture. In terms of similar oral tales and myths, I recall hearing a few legends in history classes about the founding of my country and home village. Instead of focusing on learning from the creatures that are close to us, the Greek mythology I studied in school educates through fear, teaching stories about powerful gods who can put an end to the world and ungrateful humans in an instant.
I wish I had grown up with such traditions, and I yearn for the days when you could sit around the fire and tell stories. Even more so today, given the scarcity of opportunities to share intergenerational wisdom while gathering together, away from screens.
