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Thursday, March 5, 2015

Strega Nona - Italian Folktale

At the bottom of the boot, as this is how Italy looks like, lays a region of Calabria. The region is outlined by beautiful rugged coastline surrounded by clear blue waters on one side and by green lush vegetation and mountains on the other side. A long time ago in that region lived a grandma-witch, which takes us to a story.

Once upon a time, in a small town in the Calabria region lived an old lady called Strega Nona, which meant Grandma Witch. People of the town didn’t know what to think of her magic, but when in need everyone knew who to see. Strega Nona cured headaches with oil, made potions for healing ailments and even for girls wanting to find husbands.
But Strega Nona was getting old and needed help with tending her garden, where she planted her herbs for making the magic potions. So one day she walked to the town’s center and posted a note on the board. It read, “If your arms are strong and legs can bend to do gardening, ask for Strega Nona.”
Big Anthony, who always minded his business and never paid attention to what other people said, went to see Strega Nona.
“Anthony, if you can weed the garden, tilt the dirt and pick the vegetables, I will give you a place to sleep and food to fill your belly.” After a short pause, she added, “If you can help me with house choirs as well as animals, I’ll pay you three coins.”
“Si, si,” agreed Anthony.
“But remember never to touch the pasta pot.”
“Si, si,” agreed Anthony.
As the days passed, Strega Nona met with the people needing her help, while Anthony worked outside. One day, when it was almost dinner time, Anthony heard Strega Nona singing. He peaked through the window and saw her singing over the pasta pot. It bubbled and filled with long pasta.
“This pot is truly magical,” said Anthony.
Strega Nona called Anthony in for dinner. While Anthony made his way around from the window to the door, he didn’t see how Strega Nona blew three kisses to the pasta pot.
The next day, whomever Anthony met, he told what he saw the previous day. But nobody believed him. They just laughed. I’ll show you one day, he thought to himself.  
And that day came sooner he would have expected. A couple days later Strega Nona said to Anthony, “I have to go to see my friend in the mountains. Remember to feed the animals and milk the goat. There is some bread and cheese for you to eat, but remember do not touch the pasta pot.”
“Si, si,” confirmed Anthony.
As soon as Strega Nona was out of view, he rushed inside the house and sang over the pasta pot. And sure enough, it bubbled and filled with steaming pasta.
He ran to the town’s center and shouted, “The magic pot is filling with pasta, grab a bowl with fork and meet me at Strega Nona’s house.”
People laughed, but at the same time ran homes to get their bowls and forks. As they entered the Strega Nona’s house, sure enough they saw the pot beginning to overflow with pasta. Anthony snatched a big spoon and started proudly filling the bowls.
When every belly was full and every face covered with a smile, Anthony sang another song for the pot to stop making pasta. But it didn’t work. The pasta continued to bubble and grow; now coming out of the pot. Anthony seized a cover and slammed it on top. He sat on the covered pot, but the pasta still found its way out. It was overflowing the house, coming out of the windows and door. People ran to the town’s center screaming, “Do something Anthony.”
He frantically sang and sang, but to no avail. The past kept growing and now almost reaching the town’s center. The people frantically ran around not knowing which way to go, into their houses or out of the town. “We’re ruined,” cried the people.
And they certainly would have, had Strega Nona not come back in time. She didn’t have to think twice to know what had happened. She sang the magic song and blew the three kisses. In that instance, the pasta came to a halt.
The people thanked Strega Nona, and then searched with their eyes for Anthony. “Here he is,” shouted one.
“String him up,” yelled another.
“Now, wait,” said Strega Nona. “The punishment must fit the crime.”
She asked the standing nearby lady with a fork in her hand, “Why don’t you hand him the fork.”
Facing Anthony, she said, “You wanted pasta from my pot, you eat it now.”
And he did for a very very long time.

Source: Strega Nona by Tomie dePaola

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