Why yes, those ARE bug wings on my necklace!

After storytelling at the Decatur Library on Saturday, I stopped by one of my favorite places, Mingei World Arts (www.mingeiworldarts.com), where I came across these charms:

Owner Ann VanSlyke confirmed that they were beetle wings, collected in Thailand. Women attach the wings to their mourning shawls, and the gentle clickety-clack music they make as the women move serves as a constant reminder of their sorrow.

Despite their somber uses, I reacted thusly:  Ooooo, pretty! Shiny!

I had to have them. Never mind that they once adorned the body of a BUG.

I would wear them when I give tours at the Carlos Museum at Emory University, I told myself (www.carlos.emory.edu).

In our Egyptian galleries, scarab beetle imagery abounds in amulets, charms and coffin-lid paintings. While the wings from my necklace are from a different species of bettle, kids can still get an idea of their ruggedness and glimmering beauty.

The scarab beetle of ancient Egypt is actually a dung beetle. The bug collects pellets of poo (say THAT five times fast!), where it lays its eggs, rolls the poo into a ball, and moves it across the ground until the eggs hatch.

The Egyptians--keen observers of nature--witnessed beetle babies bursting forth from balls of waste and saw a symbol of rebirth.  They too would emerge from death into a new life in the afterworld.

The power and dedication of these critters led them also to imagine that the sun was like a ball of poo (!) and that the winged scarab god, Kehpri, pushed it across the sky every day and rolled it through the underworld every night.

The scarab symbol eventually became the most powerful ancient Egyptian symbol of rebirth, protection and good luck.  So, yeah, I sometimes wear a necklace of bug wings. And I love them!

                             

"Do Mummies Walk Around at Night?"

At the Savannah Children's Book Festival this weekend, I told lots of stories about mummies and myths. At least once a storytelling session, a younger child would ask, "Do the mummies get up and walk around at night?"

I always answered, "Nope, but do you want to know why people used to think they did?"

Even the older kids who had smiled indulgently at the question, nodded their heads. 

Well, I began. Ancient tomb robbers knew a secret--that the Priests of Anubis hid special amulets all throughout the mummy's linen wrappings. These amulets were often made of gold and precious stones. In Cleopatra Rules! I called these amulets "lucky charms" because they were meant to keep the dead safe during their journey to the afterworld.

Unfortunately, greedy tomb robbers knew about these amulets. So, when they broke into a tomb, they often lifted the coffin lid, took the mummy out and patted it down in search of amulets. Or, if they were in a big hurry, they picked up the mummy, tucked it under one arm and walked right out with it--along with whatever other goodies they could carry--into the desert.

There they would unwrap the body, steal the amulets, and leave the unwrapped mummy to disappear under the changing sands. So when modern archaeologists first entered "newly" discovered tombs, they were be shocked to find coffin lids thrown off as if the mummies themselves had sat up and done so. Sometimes, the partially unwrapped mummy was on the other side of the room, looking as if it had taken a stroll. Or, creepier, the body was gone altogether.

Rumors spread. The mummies were magic! They walked around at night! They cursed and punished all those that had entered their tombs!  Hollywood jumped in and mummy horror movies were born.

Now we know better. We know that the bodies were disturbed primarily for purposes of robbery.

It was interesting to watch the reactions. They little ones looked relieved, but the upper elementary and middle school kids looked intensely curious. They wanted more--they wanted to hear about real Egyptian curses versus movie ones, about WHY the ancient Egyptians believed what they believed (and why some--like the robbers--did not).

A fifth-grade fan tries on my helmet.
Yeah, I'm short. What can I say?

Story-times were limited so I couldn't answer all their questions. But you could see the fire of curiosity shining in their eyes. Afterward, some of the parents would thank me. "This is so fascinating," one grandfather commented.

Still in kid-mode, I responded with a big grin and said, "I KNOW, right?!"

I love what I do.