Who is
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nasreddin
~ Delicious Stew ~
One day Nasreddin Hodja bought 2 kilograms of meat from the neighbourhood butcher. He brought the meat home and asked his wife to cook a real nice stew for dinner. Thus secured the evening meal, he happily headed off to his field to work.
Hodja’s wife did cook the stew but about lunch time a few of her friends and relatives came over for a visit. Having nothing else to serve to her guests, she served the stew. They all ate heartily and finished it all.
Hodja came home after a long day’s work and asked his wife if the stew was ready.
Ahh, ahh! You have no idea what befell the stew.’ his wife said, `The cat ate it all.’
Nasreddin Hodja, suspicious, looked around and saw the scrawny little cat in one corner, looking as hungry as himself. Hodja grabbed the cat and weighed him on his pair of scales. The poor thing weighed exactly two kilos.
`Woman,’ said the Hodja, `if this is the cat, where is the stew? If this is the stew, then where is the cat?’
~ beggar ~
Nasreddin Hodja’s old house had a leaking roof. One day the Hodja decided to fix it. He borrowed a ladder and with great difficulty climbed up to the roof. Just as he was setting off to work, he heard a knock on the door. He looked down from the edge of the roof and saw a stranger in front of his door.
`I am up here.’ Hodja shouted. When the man looked up, `What is it that you want?’ he asked him.
`Please come down,’ replied the man, `I have something to say to you.’
Hodja precariously descended down the old ladder. Once on the ground he again asked the man what he wanted.
`Alms,’ said the man, `could you spare some alms.’
Hodja thought for a second and then told the man to come up to the roof with him. Hodja in front, the beggar behind him, both running short on breath, climbed up the ladder. Once on the roof top, Hodja turned to the man and said: `I don’t have any.’
watermelon and walnut
One day Nasreddin Hodja was working in his little watermelon patch. When he stopped for a break, he sat under a walnut tree and pondered.
`You Sublime God’ he said, `it’s your business, but why would you grow huge watermelons on weak branches of a vine, and house little walnuts on a strong and mighty tree?’ And as he contemplated such, one walnut fell from the tree right onto his head.
`Great God,’ he said as he massaged his bruised head, `now I understand why you didn’t find the watermelons suitable for the tree. I would have been killed if you had my mind.’
~ First Sermon ~
On his first day as the village’s imam, Nasreddin Hodja was seated on the raised bench, preparing to give his sermon. The congregation was quite anxious to hear what he had to say. But The Hodja didn’t really have a sermon ready.
`Do you know what I am about to tell you today?’ he asked.
`No, Hodja Effendi, we don’t.’ they replied.
`If you don’t know what I am going to talk about,’ the Hodja said, `then I have nothing to tell you.’ And with that, he got up and left the mosque, leaving the puzzled people behind him.
The next day, when it was the time of the sermon, Hodja was back on his seat and the congregation curiously waiting.
`Do you know what I am about to tell you today?’ Hodja asked again. Having learned from the previous day, the people were not about to say `no’ this time.
`Yes, Hodja Effendi,’ they all shouted, `we know.’
`Well,’ said the Hodja, `if you already know what I am going to tell you, then I don’t need to tell it to you!’ He got up and left. The people gathered in the mosque were at a loss.
The third day Hodja came and sat down, and asked his question.
`Do you know what I am about to tell you today?’ The congregation was not going to let Hodja get away this time without giving a sermon. Some of them replied with `yes, we do’ and some of them replied with `no, we don’t.’
`In that case,’ said the Hodja, `Those who do know should tell the ones who do not know.’ and slipped out of the mosque.
hammam
One day The Hodja went to the hammam. Looking at his poor clothes, the workers at the hammam didn’t treat him right and gave him torn towels. In spite of the lousy service, Nasreddin Hodja gave them all fat tips when leaving.
The next time Hodja went to the hammam, the workers provided him with excellent service. They gave him the newest towels and massaged his back. However, this time The Hodja left them only small changes. One of the workers ventured to find out why.
`Hodja Effendi, last time you gave us big tips…’ he hinted.
`Oh, yes. Those tips were for today’s service,’ Hodja replied, `today’s tips are for my previous visit.’
—
The Hodja went to a turkish bath, but since he was dressed poorly, the attendants said, “Why should we heat the water or perfume the towels. This man will not pay us well.” So the Hodja got a cold bath and dried himself with worn-out towels. Upon leaving, he gave the attendants a gold coin , a- fat tip. They were very surprised and pleased. So the next time they saw him coming, they gave him the best of service. Steaming hot water, perfumed, fluffy towels, etc. Upon leaving this time, he gave them the smallest copper coin. “What is wrong, Hodja,” they asked, “Were you not pleased with your bath.” The Hodja replied, “This copper coin is to pay you for the bath I got last time. I have already paid for the bath I got today.”
~ Tray of Baklava ~
One day The Hodja and his friends were sitting at the coffee house. A young boy carrying a tray of baklava attracted the attention of one of the men.
`Hodja Effendi, look!’ he pointed, `That boy is carrying a tray of baklava.’
`It’s none of my business.’ Hodja shrugged his shoulders.
`But, Hodja, watch! He is taking it to your house.’
`In that case,’ Hodja asserted, `it’s none of your business.’
~ Candle Light ~
One day The Hodja and his friends made a bet. Hodja was going to stay outside all night long and endure the chilly October cold without a coat or a fire. If Hodja could bear the cold without cheating, then his friends were supposed to treat him to a nice dinner. If Hodja quit before the day light or tried to deceive his friends, then he would be the one to prepare a good meal for all.
A few hours into the night, the weather turned really cold and Nasreddin Hodja started to shiver. When his fingers turned numb he started to contemplate giving up. When he was just about to quit, he saw the faint light of a candle at the window of one of the distant houses. He imagined a warm fire looking at the dim flutters of the candle and forgot his own quandary. The candle light from afar continued to distract him all night and he was thus able to bear the cold and successfully complete his bargain.
The next morning when his friends asked The Hodja how he fared, he told them the story of the feeble candle light he saw at a distance, and how it helped him think of warm places and entertain himself all night long.
`The sight of the candle kept me warm and sane, and that’s how I managed to stay out until the day break.’ he said. Hodja’s friends, not willing to lose a good dinner, were not prepared to accept defeat.
`That’s cheating.’ they said, `You were kept warm by the heat of that candle. You were not supposed to resort to any help. You lost the bet. We want our dinner.’ They argued back and forth, and at the end Nasreddin Hodja had to yield. He invited them all for dinner.
When the guests arrived at Hodja’s house, there was no food in sight.
`It’s cooking.’ Hodja assured them.
They passed the time for a while with small talk but the dinner was still not ready. After a couple of hours, they got really hungry and asked the Hodja why the dinner was taking so long.
`Come,’ Hodja said, `I’ll show you.’ They all went into the kitchen. Above the fireplace there was a large cauldron hanging. But beneath the cauldron, there was no fire, instead, there was one single candle burning.
`What is this, Hodja?’ questioned the annoyed guests. `How can a weak little candle light cook the food in a large cauldron?’
`If a weak little candle light can warm me from the window of a far away house, then it can certainly cook the food in a cauldron placed right above it!’ Hodja quipped.
~ Scientific Meeting ~
(I saved my favourite Nasreddin Hodja story for my birthday. Enjoy!)
A foreign scholar and his entourage were passing through Aksehir. The scholar asked to speak with the town’s most knowledgeable person. Of course the townsfolk immediately called Nasreddin Hodja. The foreign savant didn’t speak Turkish and our Hodja didn’t speak any foreign languages, so the two wise men had to communicate with signs, while the others looked on with fascination.
The foreigner, using a stick, drew a large circle on the sand. Nasreddin Hodja took the stick and divided the circle into two. This time the foreigner drew a line perpendicular to the one Hodja drew and the circle was now split into four. He motioned to indicate first the three quarters of the circle, then the remaining quarter. To this, the Hodja made a swirling motion with the stick on the four quarters. Then the foreigner made a bowl shape with two hands side by side, palms up, and wiggled his fingers. Nasreddin Hodja responded by cupping his hands palms down and wiggling his fingers.
When the meeting was over, the members of the foreign scientist’s entourage asked him what they have talked about.
`Nasreddin Hodja is really a learned man.’ he said. `I told him that the earth was round and he told me that there was equator in the middle of it. I told him that the three quarters of the earth was water and one quarter of it was land. He said that there were undercurrents and winds. I told him that the waters warm up, vaporize and move towards the sky, to that he said that they cool off and come down as rain.’
The people of Aksehir were also curious about how the encounter went. They gathered around the Hodja.
`This stranger has good taste,’ the Hodja started to explain. `He said that he wished there was a large tray of baklava. I said that he could only have half of it. He said that the syrup should be made with three parts sugar and one part honey. I agreed, and said that they all had to mix well. Next he suggested that we should cook it on blazing fire. And I added that we should pour crushed nuts on top of it.’
~ Vinegar ~
Word got out that Nasreddin Hodja possessed a jar full of vinegar that was 40 years old. One day a neighbour came knocking on the door.
`Hodja Effendi, is it really true that you have a jar full of 40-year-old vinegar?’
`It is true.’ the Hodja replied.
`Could I have a cup full of that vinegar?’
`But Hodja Effendi,’ the displeased neighbour pursued, `why wouldn’t you give me some? I only asked for a cup full.’
`Because,’ Hodja explained, `if I were to give a cup full to everyone who asked, my vinegar wouldn’t have lasted for 40 years.’
Serdar Acar 