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Nanzi ku Koma Warawara ―
Nanzi and Koma Warawara

Nilda Pinto

From: Pinto, N. (2018, 1st edition). Kuenta di e araña Kompa Nanzi; Stories of the spider Kompa Nanzi. Curaçao: Fundashon Instituto Raúl Römer. (p. 122-131)
Illustration by Marenthe Otten

Un dia Nanzi a manda Pegasaya bai buska pida kandela serka Komader Warawara[1]. Koma Warawara tabata tota pinda. Un bleki di kerozin el a kaba di pone riba kandela, ma tg Koma tabatin hopi pinda kla. Ora Pegasaya a pidié pida kandela, Koma a dun’é pida kandela i un saku chikitu yen di pinda.
Na kaminda Pegasaya a kome su pindanan, ma el a warda poko pa su tata tambe.
E di ku su tata: “Papa, pasa boka ku esakinan.”

One day, Nanzi sent Pegasaya to Komader Warawara to fetch un pida kandela, a lump of burning charcoal. Koma Warawara was roasting peanuts. She had just placed an empty kerosene can on top of the fire, but had a bunch of peanuts already roasted. When Pegasaya asked her for un pida kandela, Koma gave it to him, along with a small bag of peanuts.
On the way home, Pegasaya ate his peanuts, but he also saved a few for his father. He said to his father: “Papa, I brought you these as a treat.”

Nanzi a hari so ora el a weta e pindanan. El a kohe e kandela, bent’é den awa, kaba el a tumba pa kas di Koma Warawara.
“O, kon ta, komader? Mira un mucha pèster asina no? El a tira e kandela den awa. Bo no por duna mi un pida mas?”
Koma Warawara, ku konosé su kompader bon, a komprondé ta ki bientu a supla Nanzi ei. El a duna Nanzi un pida kandela i el a sigui hunga papel di kèns.

Nanzi only laughed when he saw the peanuts. He grabbed the pida kandela, threw it into the water, and then set off to Koma Warawara’s home.
“Oh, how are you, Koma Warawara? What a rascal that little boy is, isn’t he? He threw that lump of burning charcoal into the water. Could you give me another lump?”
Koma Warawara, who knew her friend Nanzi well, understood exactly what Nanzi wanted. She gave Nanzi the pida kandela and then she played dumb.

Ma Nanzi no ker a muf eifó.
“O, komader, kon ta ku e bida? Kos ta bon, manera mi ta weta: dos bleki di kerozin yen di pinda. Komader no por konfia mi? Bisa mi, ta na unda tin pinda asina bunita?”
Koma Warawara no ker a laga lòs, ma Nanzi a keda puntra i maha, te Koma Warawara a zonza. Por fin el a konta Nanzi, ku ta na Bela di Koro e ta bai buska e pindanan.

But Nanzi wouldn’t budge.
“So, Komader Warawara, how’s life? Things must be going well from what I can see: two kerosene cans filled with peanuts. Could you possibly confide in me, your friend? Tell me, where do I find such beautiful peanuts?”
Koma Warawara didn’t want to reveal anything, but Nanzi continued asking and whining, until Warawara was plumb tuckered out. Finally, she told Nanzi that she got the peanuts at Bela di Koro.[2]

“Den mardugá mi ta bai pa mi ta bèk banda di nueb’or.”
“Ai, komader. Bo no por bai ku mi? Mi tambe ke un moda di biba.”
“Bon, kompader, mira pa bo ta aki ora gai kanta, banda di kuat’or.”
For di dos or Nanzi a sali for di kas pa kanta kokoyoko bou di bentana di kamber di Koma Warawara.

“I always go there at the crack of dawn in order to return here around nine o’clock.”
“Ai, Komader Warawara. Could you take me with you? I also need to make a living.”
“Very good, Nanzi. Be sure you’re here when the rooster crows, around four o’clock.”
As early as two o’clock, Nanzi left the house to sing cock-a-doodle-doo under Koma Warawara’s bedroom window.

Komader a bula lanta wak pafó. Un skuridat i silensio profundo tabata reina. Ai, nò, ta idea lo mi tin, awor ta meianochi, el a pensa.
Nanzi a ripará ku kanta kokoyoko no ta yuda. P’esei el a buska poko palu, kaba el a sende nan banda di pariba di e kas. Despues Nanzi a kore bai su kas, bai gaña drumi.

Koma Warawara jumped up and looked outside. It was pitch dark and deathly quiet.
“Ai, no,” she was thinking, “It must have been my imagination, it’s still the middle of the night.”
Nanzi realized that singing cock-a-doodle-doo was not working. So he looked for some wood and started a fire on the east side of the house. Then Nanzi ran home and feigned sleep.

Koma Warawara a mira klaridat di e kandela. El a spanta: “Nos ta lat!” El a kore bai buska Nanzi.
“Nanzi, Nanzi, lanta, nos ta lat. Ya solo ta bai sali!”
Nanzi ta frega su wowo manera ta awor el a lanta.
“Warda mi un ratu, komader. Mi mester bisti e alanan ku Shi Maria a traha pa mi.”
Nanzi a bisti su dos alanan di manteka, kohe sinku saku di pita i sali for di kas.

Koma Warawara saw the light of the fire. She got worried, “We’re late!” She ran to get Nanzi.
“Nanzi, Nanzi, wake up, we’re late! The sun is already coming up!”
Nanzi rubbed his eyes as if he’d just woken up.
“Just give me a minute, Komader Warawara. I have to put on the wings Shi Maria made for me.”
Nanzi put on his two wings made from wax, grabbed five burlap bags, and left the house.

Koma Warawara a puntr’é: “Kompa, ta kon bo ta bai ku tantu saku asina? Ora nan bira pisá, bo no por bula ku nan. Ami mes ku tin dos ala ku Dios a duna mi ta bai ku dos so.”
E palabranan a drenta esun orea sali pa e otro. Nanzi a tene e sakunan mas duru ainda.
Nan a kuminsá bula. Tur kos a bai asina bon, ku den un fregá di wowo nan a yega Bela di Koro. Nan dos a kuminsá yena saku. Koma Warawara a kaba lihé, ma Nanzi a totobiá pa yena su sinku sakunan.

Koma Warawara asked Nanzi: “Nanzi, why are you bringing so many bags with you? When they get heavy you can’t fly with them. I, who got my two wings from God, am only bringing two bags.”
But the words entered one ear and went out the other. Nanzi clasped the bags even tighter.
They began to fly. Everything went so smoothly that they arrived in Bela di Koro in no time. They both started to fill their bags. Koma Warawara finished quickly, but Nanzi took forever to fill his five bags.

“Nanzi, hasi lihé, ata e hendenan ta bini i ya solo ta bai sali.”
Koma Warawara a bula bai laria ta warda Nanzi. Un ratu despues Nanzi a siguié. Ma el a lubidá ku su alanan tabata trahá di pluma di diferente para i ku nan tabata iplak na otro ku manteka. Komo el a tarda asina tantu pa yena e sakunan, solo tabata basta haltu kaba. Ata e ta sinti ku su alanan a kuminsá dirti.

“Nanzi, hurry up, the merchants are arriving and the sun is rising.”
Koma Warawara flew towards the sky to wait for Nanzi. Shortly afterwards, Nanzi followed. But he’d forgotten that his wings were made from the feathers of different birds glued together with wax. Because he’d taken so long to fill up the bags, the sun was already high in the sky. Oh, no, he felt that his wings were starting to melt.

“Koma Warawara, hei.”
“Ta kiko, Kompader?”
“Un saku ta bai kai.”
“Laga e kai numa.”
Ku pena Nanzi a laga un saku kai na laman.
Un bon ratu despues Koma Warawara a bolbe tende Nanzi grita:
“Koma Warawara, hei.”
“Ta kiko, Nanzi?”
“Un saku mas ta bai kai.”
“Laga e kai numa.”

“Koma Warawara, hey!”
“What is it, Nanzi?”
“A bag is going to fall.”
“Just let it fall.”
Full of regret, Nanzi had to drop a bag into the ocean.
Much later, Koma Warawara heard Nanzi shout again:
“Koma Warawara, hey!”
“What is it, Nanzi?”
“Another bag is going to fall.”
“Just let if fall.”

Nanzi a laga e saku kai. E ta sinti ku lo e no por yega Kòrsou ku e alanan ku ta dirtiendo. Ai, Dios, ata e ta sinti ku un saku mas tin idea di kai. Nanzi a dal un gritu, ku tur para den serkania a bula bai.
“Koma Warawara!”
“Ta kiko, Nanzi?”
“Di tres saku ta bai kai.”
“Laga e kai numa.”

Nanzi dropped the bag. He realized he wasn’t going to reach Curaçao with wings that were melting. Oh, God, he felt that another bag was about to fall. Nanzi uttered such a loud cry, that all the birds around them scattered in all directions.
“Koma Warawara!”
“What is it, Nanzi?”
“The third bag is going to fall.”
“Just let it fall.”

Ku kurason tristu i di mal gana Nanzi a laga e saku kai. Nan a sigui ta bula. Koma Warawara ta blo ta kòrda Nanzi. Den esei otro gritu: “Koma Warawara, hei.”
“Ta kiko, Nanzi?”
“Mi mester bolbe laga un saku kai.”
“Laga e kai numa.”
Djublum… saku a bai awa. Solo a sigui subi. Nanzi ta soda. E alanan ta serka di laga lòs. E no por a bula asina lihé mas. E delaster saku tambe e mester a laga kai.

With a heavy heart and reluctantly, Nanzi dropped the bag. They flew onwards. Koma Warawara couldn’t stop thinking about Nanzi. Then, suddenly, another scream: “Koma Warawara, hey!”
“What is it, Nanzi?”
“I have to drop another bag again.”
“Just let it fall.”
Splash! The bag dropped into the water. The sun was rising higher and higher. Nanzi was sweating. The wings were almost coming off. He couldn’t fly as fast anymore. He also had to drop the last bag.

“Koma Warawara, hei.”
“Ta kiko, kompader?”
“Mi mester laga e delaster saku tambe kai.”
“Laga e kai numa.”
Saku a kai den laman. Koma Warawara ta bula pokopoko, pasobra el a ripará ku Nanzi tabata kedando atras. Di repente el a tende un gritu teribel.
“Koma Warawara, mi alanan a dirti. Mi ta bai kai den e laman hundu aki. Ousilio!”

“Koma Warawara, hey!”
“What is it, Nanzi?”
“I also have to drop the last bag.”
“Just let it fall.”
The bag fell into the ocean. Koma Warawara slowed down, because she noticed that Nanzi was falling behind. Suddenly, she heard a horrible scream.
“Koma Warawara, my wings have melted. I’m falling into this deep ocean. Help!”

Promé ku Nanzi a kaba di papia, Koma Warawara a bini serka dje. El a kohe Nanzi bou di su alanan. Den su mes e ta pensa: “ta ken a manda mi?”
E ta sinti Nanzi ta wul bou di su brasa. “Nanzi, keda ketu. Asina mi no por bula.”
“Ai, komader, bou di bo brasa ta hole mashá malu. Mi no por wanta un oló stinki asina.”
“Nanzi, sera bo boka, malagradesido ku bo ta! Bo no tin bèrgwensa? Keda ketu!”
Un bon ratu despues el a bolbe sinti Nanzi ta wul.
“Ta kiko atrobe, kompader?”
“Ai, komader, mi stoma ta wal. Mi mester saka. Bou di bo brasa ta manda un oló di siboyo putrí. Laga mi lòs numa, mi n’ por mas.”

Before Nanzi finished talking, Koma Warawara had already reached him. She took Nanzi under her wings, thinking, “What have I gotten myself into?”
She felt Nanzi thrash in her arms. “Nanzi, stop moving! I can’t fly like this.”
“Ai, Komader Warawara, it stinks under your arms. I can’t stand this horrible smell.”
“Nanzi, shut up. You’re so ungrateful! Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? Be quiet!”
Much later, she felt Nanzi thrash about again.
“What now, Nanzi?”
“Ai, Komader Warawara, I’m sick to my stomach. I have to throw up. It stinks of rotten onions under your arms. Just let me go. I can’t go on anymore.”

Koma Warawara a habri su alanan i Nanzi a kai den laman. Ma Nanzi lo no ta Nanzi, si suerte no a bolbe kompañ’é. El a kai riba lomba di Korna Turtuga.
“O, abrenunsia! Ta ken ke krak mi lomba? Mi por a muri.”
“T’ami, Nanzi, Koma Turtuga, hiba mi tera.”
“Dios libra! Pa bo boltu mi pechu ariba, mata mi no? Ai no, Nanzi, e kos ei no ta sosodé.”
“Fui, Koma, ta pakiko bo ta pensa asina malu di mi? Lo ta mashá mahos di mi parti, si mi mester hasi un kos asina.”

Koma Warawara spread her wings and Nanzi plunged into the ocean. But Nanzi wouldn’t have been Nanzi if good fortune didn’t accompany him once again. He landed on the back of Koma Turtuga, the turtle.
“Good heavens! Who wants to break my back? I could’ve died.”
“It’s me, Nanzi. Koma Turtuga, take me to land.”
“God forbid! So that you turn me on my back, and kill me, right? Ai, no way, Nanzi, that’s not going to happen.”
“Shame on you, Koma Turtuga, why would you think so badly of me? It would be very cruel of me to do something like that.”

Illustration by Marenthe Otten

Nanzi a papia asina bunita, ku Koma Turtuga a ker’é. El a landa hiba Nanzi tera. Konforme Nanzi su pia a gana tera, el a boltu Koma Turtuga pechu ariba. Kiko ku esaki a sklama i supliká, nada no a sirbi. Nanzi a kòrta su kabes ku su sambèchi i el a hupa bai kas kuné.
Shi Maria ku tur e yunan tabata yora na kas. Koma Warawara a kaba di bin bisa nan, ku Nanzi a hoga den laman grandi.

Nanzi spoke so beautifully that Koma Turtuga believed him. She swam off and brought Nanzi to land. As soon as Nanzi stood on firm ground, he turned Koma Turtuga on her back. No matter how she shouted and begged, it didn’t make a difference. Nanzi cut off her head with his pocketknife and he carried her body home with him.
Shi Maria and all the children were crying at home. Koma Warawara had just told them that Nanzi had drowned in the middle of the ocean.

Den esei Nanzi Kikeremacha a grita: “Ata papa!”
Tur a kore sali pa bai kontra papa. E dia ei nan no a kome pinda, ma sí nan a kome te pidi mas di e karni di Koma Turtuga.

Then Nanzi Kikeremacha[3] called out, “There’s papa!”
They all ran out to meet their father. That day, they didn’t eat peanuts, but instead they feasted on the meat of Koma Turtuga.

Notes

[1] A warawara is a caracara falcon.
[2] Bela di Koro: in Spanish Vela di Coro, harbor region on the Northwest coast of Venezuela.
[3] Nanzi Kikeremacha: name of one of Nanzi’s sons.

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