Last time: masks,
festivals,
legends—and
several refills.

Cleo brought Tanoura.
Papa Dmitri brought
Maslenitsa.
Today, new pages!

First, a familiar
crisis. Who
finished my water?

Zhuzhu brought Nuo
last time. Molymoly,
what about your
hometown?

Chengdu,
Sichuan!
Bian lian: Sichuan
opera’s astonishing
face-changing art.

The changing 
faces can show a
character’s shifting
emotions.

And your expression
says “That is
Zhuzhu’s bamboo.”

My next face is
innocent.

Cleo, another page
after Tanoura?

Sham el-Nessim!
A spring celebration
with picnics, colored
eggs, onions, and
salted fish.

By royal
decree:
spring
may begin!

Her Majesty
approves the
picnic arrangements.

And I approve the
water. Very
enthusiastically.

Papa Dmitri, we’ve
had
Maslenitsa.
What
comes after the
pancakes?

The Firebird!
In Russian fairy tales,
even finding a glowing
feather can send a
hero on a dangerous
quest.

I appear to have
assumed a
defensive stance.

Against 
the bird?

Against the
temptation
to ask
if it comes with
potatoes.

I don’t 
remember
this. Will you
teach me,
Sir Dono?

Let’s learn from its
keepers. This is
Bumba-meu-boi in
Maranhão: music,
dance, theater—and a
splendid ox.

Many tellings center
on an ox that
dies and returns to life.

Have we met
before? Sorry.
I’m asking the ox.

I don’t need to
remember this
to
begin learning it.

Benny,
remember?
“You owe me
Cuban folklore.”

Debt paid: 
Las Parrandas!
In Remedios, rival
neighborhoods
compete
with floats, lights,
and fireworks.

Two sides. One
spectacular night.

Two sides? One
sandwich?
Absolutely
not. This one’s
mine.

Reel, you recently
shared Native
American ancestry
in your family.

A distant 
ancestor, yes.
I’m still learning the
details. That doesn’t
make me a
spokesperson.

My brain
keeps reaching
for Dances with
Wolves. I need a
better starting
point.

Living Native
nations. Not a
movie shortcut.

Native
American
isn’t one culture.
Different nations
have their own
histories and
living traditions.

Mesa Verde 
was home to
Ancestra Pueblo
people. Their
descendants are
still here.

Including Pueblo
communities and
Hopi people—not a
vanished cast.

The Last of the
Mohicans— There
goes my movie brain
again. Different
people. Different
place.

Now a different
region: the
Pacific Northwest
coast.

Publicly shared 
Hoh and Quileute
accounts tell of
Thunderbird and
Whale in a tremendous
struggle.

The earth
trembles.
The
great waters
rise.
Versions
differ among
communities.

No movie
comparison
this time.
I’m listening.

And this story is
not
a Mesa Verde
tradition.

An atlas
isn’t a
collection
of whole
cultures in
tiny boxes.

It’s an invitation
to listen, learn
who tells 
each story,
and keep
turning pages.

Yara, your next
chapter doesn’t
have to be 
a memory.

It can be
something
I learn today.

And mine can
begin with a
refill. Finally.