Anansi, Turtle, and Stew UFLI Foundations Lesson 92

Anansi cooks all morning in his kitchen. By noon the smell of good food fills his home. There is thick stew, golden fried yams, and a big hot pot. Anansi grins at his table, for today he will eat a perfect meal, all by himself. Then, rap, rap, a slow rap at his door!

It is Turtle, dusty from a long road. 'Anansi,' says Turtle, 'I have been on the road since sunrise. That stew smells like a dream.' Anansi looks at the pots, then at Turtle, then at the pots again. 'Sit and eat,' he says with a wide, sneaky grin. 'But first, a good guest must scrub his hands at the river.'

The river is far, and Turtle's legs are not long. When Turtle gets back, Anansi is deep in the yams. 'Sit, sit!' says Anansi. 'But look at these dusty hands! Scrub them one more time.' Turtle looks, nods, and treks back to the river.

Turtle gets back, but the pots are empty. Anansi sits back, very full. 'I am sorry, my friend,' he says, not sorry at all. 'I am just too full. Come back some day soon.' Turtle looks at the empty pots and nods a slow nod. He has a plan. 'A guest keeps in mind the way he is fed,' he says, and walks back up the road.

Three days later, Anansi finds a leaf note from Turtle at his door. It says: Come to my home at the bottom of the river for a feast at noon. I have been cooking since the new moon. Anansi grins a big grin, for river food is a true treat. He is at the riverbank before the mist lifts.

At noon Anansi jumps in, but he floats! He kicks and spins his legs, and pop, he bobs back up every time. In the deep, Turtle waves beside a table of glittering dishes. The feast steams on the riverbed, just past his reach.

Turtle rises to the top. 'Is all well?' he asks, very polite. 'This water is too strong,' says Anansi, which is not true. 'Maybe tie a stone to my leg?' 'Oh no,' says Turtle, 'that would not be nice for a guest. Dive in when the time is right.' Then Turtle sinks again. Anansi looks at the riverbank. There are a lot of stones there, big flat ones in the mud. Hmm.

Anansi scurries up the bank and finds a stiff reed jacket that a fisher left on a post to dry. He puts six big stones in the pockets, three on each side, and pulls the jacket on. The pockets are full, and the jacket is hard to lift. But when he jumps in, he sinks right to the riverbed! Turtle smiles and serves the feast. Clams, shellfish, sweet treats, and more.

Anansi reaches for a dish. 'First,' says Turtle, 'we take off jackets and hats. It is the rule of my home.' Turtle sets his own small hat on the table. Anansi looks at the reed jacket. If he takes it off, he will float to the top. If he keeps it on, he can't reach past its stiff sides. Anansi must choose. The clams steam. Turtle starts to eat.

Anansi pulls at the jacket. He can't reach past it. He tips his bowl, and the bowl flips over. He shifts one arm, the jacket tilts, and, zoom, he zips to the top! He pops from the water, spins, and lands on the bank with a thump. Wet stones drop all over. Far below, Turtle eats the last of the shellfish and smiles.

Turtle comes up, looking very full. 'I am sorry, my friend,' he says. 'Come back some day soon.' Anansi looks at Turtle. These are his very words! Anansi sits on the bank, wet and empty. He thinks of the empty pots and the two treks to the river. 'A guest keeps in mind the way he is fed,' says Turtle, and he slips under the water.

Anansi goes home and sits by his cold stove for a while. Then he cooks a big pot of stew and a lot of yams. Soon Guinea-fowl raps at the door, dusty from a long road, and Anansi feeds him at once, at the table, with no trip to the river. It is not because Anansi is so nice. It is because Anansi keeps things in mind. A guest keeps in mind the way he is fed, and so does a host who has been a guest.