Bees' Post

The other day, while farming at Gaining Ground, I witnessed the coolest thing ever – the swarm of bees looking for a new home, and their migration to their new bee-house! (photos - courtesy of Sue Mildrum).

It all started with an ecstatic-looking looking man in biking gear running  towards us and yelling: “There is a swarm of bees! Yahoo!” It was the farm’s bee-keeper, Max. Turned out, some bees from the main hive defected because there were too many bees in one space. So, some worker bees made a new queen, and once she matured, they flew away with her. Their temporary home turned out to be a little pear tree sapling, so it was very easy to see what the bees were doing. So far they were just sitting there, chilling. Occasionally several bees would fly out and return to tell others about a potential site for their new home. They were doing a little “dance” – jitter-bug (pun intended), to communicate with other bees about their discoveries. Apparently, bees communicate with pheromones, and so the smoke that some bee-keepers use hinders their communication.

 

Max and the other bee-keeper, Sarah, quickly found the box (the future bee-house), the masks and other equipment, and were trying to figure out how to transport all bees into the box. If the bees were on the horizontal branch, they would simply lower the branch into the box. But because they were placed vertically, it was more tricky. Max finally decided to simply shake the bees off the tree trunk! As long as the queen got into the box, all bees would eventually go where she would be. And that’s exactly what happened. It was very cool to just see bees flying around and getting into the box. Max was stung only once (most likely because he was wearing black, bees’ least favorite color). The entire procedure took about 20 minutes. Hopefully I’ll participate in some bee-keeping projects in Ghana! Honey-bees seem to be awesome creatures. Gotta read this book: "Honeybee Democracy" by Tom Seeley.

Getting sentimenal about New England….

I admit that I am going to miss the US in general and New England in particular...

I’ve recently returned from another weekend mini-trip to New Hampshire to witness a marriage ceremony of two friends. The weather (gorgeous sunny 75F), the venue (an old machine-making hall converted into a theatre), the landscape (green fields, yellow flowers, old barns), and the company (great group of family, friends, musicians and runners) brought me to the realization that I will miss ye olde New England (may these photos serve as a reminder).

Zhailau Times

I recently returned from a great volunteering gig: a Zhailau camp organized by a great non-profit organization,  Kazakh Aul of the United States. The camp is designed to teach adopted kids from Kazakhstan about their culture (it welcomes everybody). They learn to dance traditional dance, play dombra, make crafts and play traditional games. The staff wo teaches them hails from Kazakhstan and various US states. This year’s team was great, and there were a lot of familiar faces. We composed funny songs and skits, made plov and baursaki, swam in the lake and had a blast. Kazakh Aul rocks J.

Here is a story of how I found the Kazakh Aul – or, more precisely, how the Aul found me.

Back in 2006, I was flying home to Almaty from Philly. I started to chat with a woman sitting next to me (Gwen), and we formed a bond. Gwen was flying to KZ to pick up her adopted son! The bond was strengthened by the fact that our plane was diverted to Astana because of the very thick fog in Almaty. We ended up spending all day there – walked around frozen city (which was still being developed, there were hardly any hotels), had lunch (pelmeni!) and talked with locals. We were joined by 2 more couples from the same flight who were picking up their adopted kids! Anyway, we made the best out of the less than ideal situation. Gwen even took a little nap at our house when we finally arrived because she was exhausted, and didn’t want to sleep at the Soviet-style gostinitsa (hotel). To make a long story short, once we returned to the US, we continued to write to each other. One day Gwen told me about Kazakh Aul, and I became interested in volunteering. I even went through several phone interviews with board members and the Kazakh team coordinator (lovely Gulmira). And right before the camp’s week in 2010, I found a job in Boston, and had to move right as the camp was happening. Years passed… In 2012, during the KZ Independence party in Boston, I met with Gwen and Susan, the Aul’s director (who I spoke on the phone 2 years earlier!). Well, it was time to redeem myself and join the Kazakh camp staff. So, in 2013 I spent a magical week at Geneva Point Center in New Hampshire.

If I want to take a break from Africa next summer, I may be able to return for my 3^rd Zhailau.