Episode 54 – Here There Be Dragons – Myths Your Teacher Hated

Episode 54 Show Notes

Source: Chinese Folklore

This week on MYTH, we’re going to play around with fireworks. You’ll see that gods have a lot of free time, that red is super scary, and that the new year is a time for monsters. Then, in Gods and Monsters, you’ll see that sometimes vomiting can be a good thing. This is the Myths Your Teacher Hated podcast, where I tell the stories of cultures from around the world in all of their original, bloody, uncensored glory. Modern tellings of these stories have become dry and dusty, but I’ll be trying to breathe new life into them. This is Episode 54, “Here There be Dragons”. As always, this episode is not safe for work.
New Year’s Eve is just around the corner, so this seemed like the perfect tale for our New Year’s special. Okay, so technically, Chinese New Year isn’t until January 25, but this is too cool a story to wait. Gather some friends, pop the champagne, and listen to the tale of the monster Nian as you wait for midnight.
Once, long ago, there lived a terrible demon named Nian, with huge sharp teeth and long, deadly horns. This massive monster dwelt high in the mountains above a small village in China (some stories say he dwelt deep in the sea instead, but the end result is the same). Nian slept soundly through most of the year, but he would always awaken in the heart of the winter and descend on the little village in a storm of death and destruction. He always woke up hungry and irritable, which made Nian kind of a dick. Maybe if someone had given him a Snickers, he wouldn’t have been such a raging asshat every year. Unfortunately, that candy didn’t exist yet, so Nian would instead rage through the village, eating everything in sight. He ate the crops stored against the end of winter, he ate the livestock in the fields, and he ate any villager unlucky enough to be caught by vicious Nian, though his favorite food by far was children.
Understandably, the people lived in terror of the predations of this unstoppable demon. Each year as the night of horror approached, the villagers would board up their windows and barricade the doors before huddling together in their homes as night fell, praying that the dread demon would pass them by without murdering them or devouring all of their crops and livestock. Some versions of the story have them fleeing to the safety of the foothills each year and returning to find the village demolished, with anything they hadn’t been able to take with them eaten, burned, or broken. The end result is the same, so pick your favorite option.
One year, after these monstrous assaults had become a regular occurence, an old man visited the village in the week before Nian’s arrival. His long hair had gone silver years ago, but his eyes were still bright and intelligent, and his gaze seemed to almost pierce your very soul. Dressed in the castoff rags of a beggar and walking with the aid of a gnarled walking stick, the old man was pretty much ignored by everyone as he entered the village. He watched everyone anxiously preparing for some sort of assault, fear plain in their eyes, and he asked what the fuck was about to descend on them. Without pausing in their preparations, the villagers completely ignored the stranger, except for one kind-hearted old woman. She brought this beggar some food from her meager stores and told the old man of Nian and his annual bloody rampage. “I’m a little confused. Sure, this Nian bastard sounds fierce, but there’s only one of him and a shit-ton of you. Couldn’t you just band together and kill him? Yeah, some of you will probably die, but he can’t kill you all and besides – a heroic death ridding your family and friends of this creature has got to beat cowering in the darkness and wondering if the last sound you’ll ever hear is the demon ripping through your walls.”
The villagers looked at the old man like he was insane and kept right on boarding and barricading. Facing Nian seemed like certain death, and at least hiding meant a chance of survival. They weren’t about to throw that chance away on some quixotic last stand. Night was coming, and everyone was still determined to be hidden away before the darkness fell, as safe as it was possible to be from the murderous creature about to rip a ragged path of wanton destruction through their midst. The old woman took back her empty bowl and headed for her own home, offering the man a place inside with her, for whatever meager safety it might afford. The strange old man smiled kindly, but refused, seating himself in an open pavilion near the center of town. “Thank you for your kindness, my dear woman. I think I will take my chances here, in the open.” The old woman quailed in fear for this fragile old fool, but he was stubborn and night was almost here. She finally gave up and headed for shelter, leaving the old man alone as the only person out in the open.
As they did every year, the villagers huddled in their darkened homes in silent, quavering terror as they waited for the blood-curdling roar that would herald Nian’s approach. Around midnight, he arrived. He stalked into the desolate village, teeth bared in a vicious grin of anticipation, but it wavered slightly. Something was different this time. He couldn’t put his claw on it exactly, but there was some subtle tension in the air. Nian didn’t like it. He sniffed, head bobbing back and forth, as he located the source of the problem. His eyes narrowed as they fell on the small old man sitting in the empty pavilion. Nian roared a challenge and advanced on his hapless victim.
Blinding light and deafening reports suddenly split the darkness as fireworks around the pavilion exploded and bamboo torches burst to life, banishing the shadows and revealing the old man who didn’t seem so frail any longer, his face now that of a hideous, snarling, ferocious beast. Nian shook his head in confusion at the sudden sound and unexpectedly fierce opponent, and the old man took advantage of the delay to throw off his ragged beggar’s cloak, revealing a rich red robe underneath. He roared with laughter, wooden staff twirling between nimble fingers, and Nian retreated, afraid for the first time in his life. The hideously cackling monster advanced, staff beating a loud tattoo on the ground in counterpoint to the explosions of new fireworks being tossed all around, red robe rippling unnervingly in the confusion. With one last roar of pain and terror, Nian fled the village without destroying anything or murdering anyone at all.
All night, the townspeople cowered in their homes, terrified at the awful noise in the village square and convinced that they would emerge to find the village leveled (if they emerged alive at all). When the faint light of dawn finally penetrated the barricaded windows, the people emerged to find, to their wonder, that everything was the way they had left it, including the old man sitting peacefully in the pavilion. He appeared to be meditating, but he opened his eyes as the group approached.
“You’re alive? But how? How did you defeat Nian?” “I didn’t have to. Nian is a demon, and not even I can kill him, but he’s also a bully and an especially cowardly one at that.” The people’s faces fell at the news that Nian yet lived. “He’ll come back. If he’s still alive, he’ll just come back next year and kill us all in revenge. Can you stay and protect us?” The old man shook his head. “I’m a very busy god (oh, did I forget to mention that I was a god? I’m a god), so I can’t just hang around this village forever. You’ll have to protect yourselves next year.”
He could read the fear and despair on the faces around him, and he smiled gently. “It’s not so hard once you know the trick of it. Nian is afraid of loud noises and bright lights, so bring out the lanterns, drums, and fireworks when he approaches. He is also afraid of not being the only monster come to town (since it’s hard for him to bully another demon), so give the children fearsome masks and have them parade through the streets. Lastly, after tonight’s events, he’s going to hate the color red, so use it everywhere through town. It’s a lucky color.”
The next year, when Nian’s annual visit drew near, the town went to work. They hung red decorations in and around all of the houses and filled the streets with the cheerful light of lanterns. For a month, they celebrated in the streets with fireworks and drums, with cheers and cheerful music day and night. Each night, they watched for Nian’s return, and each night, he was too afraid of the lights and sounds and terrifying masks to approach the village, and so everyone was safe. Before long, this tradition passed from this small village and spread across all of China, where it is celebrated to this day. Indeed, the Chinese word for ‘New Year’ is Gao Nian, which translates roughly to “overcome Nian”, and is the celebration of the demon’s annual defeat by, well, celebration.
There are actually a couple of versions of this story, all of which have the same basic elements blended together differently. In some, the old god stays for four days, fending off the demon before finally getting exasperated and insisting that the people defend themselves so that he could get one with the busy duties of being a god. In others, Nian doesn’t so much murder and pillage as play boogeyman and do little more than scare people for shits and giggles. In still another version, there is no old man at all. Instead, a clumsy villager happens to kick a bucket down a hill while wearing red just as Nian is coming to down and figures out from that how to drive off Nian all on his own. The end result is the same no matter how they figure out Nian’s weakness, and they also discover that red is a lucky color in the bargain.
There’s some doubt as to how authentic this story really is. There are ancient texts that discuss many of the aspects of the New Year’s celebration brought together in this story, but none of them actually refer to a demon called Nian. There are references to an ape-like creature known as the shanxiao being driven off by firecrackers recorded in the Shan Hai Jing or Classics of Mountains and Seas, a classic Chinese text describing mythical places and creatures that may date back to as early as the 4th century BC, but didn’t reach its current form until the Han Dynasty around 200 BC. There’s also some evidence that the story of Nian is the origin of the lion dance that is so famously associated with Chinese New Year, but this is heavily disputed as there are other sources to that tradition as well. So with the New Year fast approaching, think about wearing red as you set off fireworks into the night sky – it just might keep the demons at bay. And with Nian neutralized, it’s time for Gods and Monsters. This is a segment where I get into a little more detail about the personalities and history of one of the gods or monsters from this week’s pantheon that was not discussed in the main story. This week’s god is Bumba.
We’re deviating from formula a little this week. Rather than being a god from Chinese mythology, he’s the source of one of the most unique creation stories I’ve ever encountered, and it was just too good not to include in the New Year’s special. Pretty much all cultures have a creation myth, and many of them begin with an all-powerful being of some sort creating the universe for any number of reasons, but it often boils down to a deliberate act of creation or some horny primordial gods getting their freak on. The creation story of the Bushongo and Songora people of central Africa, in what is now the Democratic Republic of the Congo and Uganda, is a little different.
At the beginning of time, there was only water and darkness on the earth. Living in the vast empty darkness was Bumba, also known as Mbombo or Mbongo. This being, known as the creator and the first ancestor, was alone. He was an enormous man, and since he lived in utter darkness, his skin was an unbelievably pale, almost luminescent white.
He lived this way for many millions of years, and the utter loneliness eventually made him ill. The longer he lived, the more lonely he became, and the more ill he felt. His guts began to roil and rumble, leaving Bumba clutching his stomach in agony. The unbearable pain grew in intensity until finally, he dropped to his knees and vomited violently.
You may have noticed that I didn’t mention him eating anything, and that’s not an oversight. Bumba didn’t vomit up last night’s dinner, he vomited up the sun, creating light in the world for the very first time. As the heat from the sun shone down on the waters, they began to evaporate, revealing the outlines of land, which had been submerged beneath the waters since the beginning of time. Bumba’s agony had not abated and he vomited again. This time, out came the moon and the stars, which divided the day and the night. As he was vomiting the second time, the water that had evaporated from the heat of the sun rose into the heavens and became clouds in the sky, high above the newly-dried hills.
A third time Bumba vomited, bringing forth animal life upon the earth. He spewed out Koy Bumba (the leopard), Ponga Bumba (the crested eagle), Ganda Bumba (the crocodile), Yo Bumba (the fish), Kono Bumba (the tortoise), Nyani Bumba (the heron), Budi (the goat), a scarab beetle who doesn’t have a name, and Tsetse Bumba (a black-cat type creature). Having been birthed from the puke of a lonely god, each of the creatures went on to create all of the creatures on the earth. Nyani Bumba the heron created all of the birds; Ganda Bumba the crocodile created all of the reptiles and serpents. Budi the goat made all of the beasts with horns; and Yo Bumba the fish created all of the fish and sea creatures; the scarab beetle created all of the insects. From there, an iguana and a serpent spawned by Ganda Bumba created all of the creatures without horns and all of the grasshoppers, respectively.
Still Bumba’s stomach was not empty. He vomited a fourth time, puking up the first humans Loko Yima and Nchienge as well as his three sons Nyonye Ngana, Chonganda, and Chedi Bumba. Together, the three sons of Bumba vowed to finish the work of creating the world while their father rested from his epic vomiting fit. As the eldest, Nyonye Ngana went first. He decided to copy his father’s method of creation by vomit, bringing forth a horde of white ants. Unfortunately, he wasn’t as powerful as his father, and the effort of creating so much from his own essence drew too much of his strength, and he died soon after. In honor of his sacrifice, the ants burrowed deep into the earth in search of a fitting place to bury their progenitor. They found dark soil deep inside the earth and brought it to the surface, transforming the pale, barren desert into what is now the fertile places in Africa.
Chastened by his brother’s death but still determined to finish his father’s creation, Chonganda, the middle son, went next. From the fertile soil where his brother was buried, he drew forth the first plant, which blossomed and blew out seeds on the wind, creating all of the trees and plants that grow on the earth. As he rested from his labor, the youngest son stepped up. Chedi Bumba created one final bird, the kite (though the story doesn’t say exactly how he did so, I prefer to think he sculpted it from the soil his brother’s corpse was buried in for consistency). And with that, all of the world had been brought into existence, although all was not well.
Tsetse Bumba, the black-cat creature, was making a total fucking nuisance of herself. She had been created with the ability to generate powerful explosions of fire, but she was exactly as judicious as you would expect a cat to be with that much destructive power. She was basically destroying things for shits and giggles, and it was becoming a problem. So much so, in fact, that Bumba was eventually forced to drive her away from the earth and into the sky beyond where the birds flew. Thus banished, Tsetse Bumba was not content to simply go quietly into that good night. Instead, she would collect her energy and blast the earth in great bursts when she could, giving rise to the first lightning strikes in her frustration.
Without Tsetse Bumba’s powers though, humans were left with no way to make fire for light, cooking, and tool-making. That wouldn’t do, so Bumba taught the humans how to draw fire from the heart of the trees instead by rubbing them together in just the right ways. With that, Bumba decided that creation was finally finished and peaceful enough to hand over. He and his sons retreated to the heavens, leaving Loko Yima in charge as the god on earth. Nchienge went to live in the east, where she ruled as the woman of the waters with her son Woto, who would become the first king of the Kuba. So if you drink too much this New Year’s Eve and feel the need to vomit, be careful that you don’t accidentally puke up a whole new universe in the process.
That’s it for this episode of Myths Your Teacher Hated. Keep up with new episodes on our Facebook page, on iTunes, on Stitcher, on TuneIn, and on Spotify, or you can follow us on Twitter as @HardcoreMyth and on Instagram as Myths Your Teacher Hated Pod. You can also find news and episodes on our website at myths your teacher hated dot com. If you like what you’ve heard, I’d appreciate a review on iTunes. These reviews really help increase the show’s standing and let more people know it exists. If you have any questions, any gods or monsters you’d want to learn about, or any ideas for future stories that you’d like to hear, feel free to drop me a line. I’m trying to pull as much material from as many different cultures as possible, but there are all sorts of stories I’ve never heard, so suggestions are appreciated. The theme music is by Tiny Cheese Puff, whom you can find on fiverr.com.
Next time, we’re going to get into the Hindu story of epic fights between gods and demons. You’ll see that you should never trust twins, that telling kids ‘no’ is dangerous, and that lashing out at your house can have surprising consequences. Then, in Gods and Monsters, you’ll see that when you mix soldiers, police, and dancers, you get delicious, tragic bread. That’s all for now. Thanks for listening.