out then and picked up a frame that was only half wired. There was relief in her voice. “I know this,” she said to Christina and then she looked at Gunnar. “See,” she said and sat down to slide the wire through the frame and pull it out.
“My chacha had same,” she said.
“Who is chacha?” Gunnar asked and Christina whispered, “An uncle.”
“He has many honeybees,” the Afghan girl said. “Many honeybees.”
“How many?” Gunnar asked.
She gave him a baffled look and then laughed softly. “I count them not,” she said. “I try but they sting me, and I run.”
Gunnar stared at her and saw an image of a little dark-haired girl looking into a bee colony trying to count each bee. He smiled.
“I have twenty-six colonies,” Gunnar said and she looked at him absently.
“I have about a hundred thousand bees,” he said and her eyes widened. Regardless of what Christina thought, Gunnar could see that this girl knew nothing about beekeeping.
“How do you count so many?” the girl asked.
“One after another,” Gunnar said somberly and then laughed at the shocked look on the girl's face.
FIVE
ENTRY FROM ANNA'S DIARY
A Year of Keeping Bees
5 MAY 1980
The sun, the sun, the sun! We have been desperately waiting for the sun because when the sun comes out, the bees come to life. Yesterday, as clouds gathered and stood morosely over my hives, there was no sign of bee activity. But today the bright yellow sun has brought the bees to life—waggle dancing, foraging for pollen, it's time to feed, to live, to buzz.
We went out in the morning right after breakfast and I had to calm myself through the last dredges of coffee in my cup. I could hardly wait. Gunnar felt the same excitement. Our bees were ready.
Hello, bees. It is always such a pleasure to pull them out of the boxes, go through the frames, touch them, hear them, and see them. We spot the queen and see how the brood is doing. All our hives have thrived. We need to make more colonies. By the next bee season, we will have ten colonies, I am sure of it.
We see capped brood in some colonies and we are excited, it means the queen is laying and the hive will be replenished by her offspring as the older ones die off. The cycle of life. The life span of a honeybee is just six weeks, six weeks of gathering pollen and nectar, six weeks of giving and giving and giving. And then winter comes and they snuggle into their cells and sleep until spring.
In one of Gunnar's colonies the queen has laid eggs. We have two colonies each and we will have to move the bees around, make six colonies out of our four. We'll have seven or eight by the time spring is here in full force.
I used to think the protective suits made you look silly, like you were a scientist working in atop-secret lab, but now they feel professional. Wearing them makes me happy because when I put one on, I know I will be seeing my bees again.
“ S o is he any better now or is he still sitting around and drinking coffee all day?” Layla asked Raihana. Raihana had been working with Gunnar, called “the Danish man” in Raihana's Afghan circles, for a month now.
Raihana had had little to report during her first month. When Layla and Kabir asked what he was like, she told them he was quiet and minded his own business. Raihana had found a praktik that was easier than Layla's as she had absolutely no work to do.
“The same,” Raihana said. “Very moody … but then his wife just died.”
“And you're not scared of him?” Layla asked.
Raihana shook her head. No, she wasn't scared of him. The fear had disappeared when he had laughed. He had joked with her about counting one bee after another and somehow that had made her feel better about him and the bees. He had suddenly seemed like a normal man, a friendly man, and she wasn't nervous around him anymore.
“What is that you do every day?” Layla asked.
They were making dinner together, as they always did. Raihana did most of the
“My chacha had same,” she said.
“Who is chacha?” Gunnar asked and Christina whispered, “An uncle.”
“He has many honeybees,” the Afghan girl said. “Many honeybees.”
“How many?” Gunnar asked.
She gave him a baffled look and then laughed softly. “I count them not,” she said. “I try but they sting me, and I run.”
Gunnar stared at her and saw an image of a little dark-haired girl looking into a bee colony trying to count each bee. He smiled.
“I have twenty-six colonies,” Gunnar said and she looked at him absently.
“I have about a hundred thousand bees,” he said and her eyes widened. Regardless of what Christina thought, Gunnar could see that this girl knew nothing about beekeeping.
“How do you count so many?” the girl asked.
“One after another,” Gunnar said somberly and then laughed at the shocked look on the girl's face.
FIVE
ENTRY FROM ANNA'S DIARY
A Year of Keeping Bees
5 MAY 1980
The sun, the sun, the sun! We have been desperately waiting for the sun because when the sun comes out, the bees come to life. Yesterday, as clouds gathered and stood morosely over my hives, there was no sign of bee activity. But today the bright yellow sun has brought the bees to life—waggle dancing, foraging for pollen, it's time to feed, to live, to buzz.
We went out in the morning right after breakfast and I had to calm myself through the last dredges of coffee in my cup. I could hardly wait. Gunnar felt the same excitement. Our bees were ready.
Hello, bees. It is always such a pleasure to pull them out of the boxes, go through the frames, touch them, hear them, and see them. We spot the queen and see how the brood is doing. All our hives have thrived. We need to make more colonies. By the next bee season, we will have ten colonies, I am sure of it.
We see capped brood in some colonies and we are excited, it means the queen is laying and the hive will be replenished by her offspring as the older ones die off. The cycle of life. The life span of a honeybee is just six weeks, six weeks of gathering pollen and nectar, six weeks of giving and giving and giving. And then winter comes and they snuggle into their cells and sleep until spring.
In one of Gunnar's colonies the queen has laid eggs. We have two colonies each and we will have to move the bees around, make six colonies out of our four. We'll have seven or eight by the time spring is here in full force.
I used to think the protective suits made you look silly, like you were a scientist working in atop-secret lab, but now they feel professional. Wearing them makes me happy because when I put one on, I know I will be seeing my bees again.
“ S o is he any better now or is he still sitting around and drinking coffee all day?” Layla asked Raihana. Raihana had been working with Gunnar, called “the Danish man” in Raihana's Afghan circles, for a month now.
Raihana had had little to report during her first month. When Layla and Kabir asked what he was like, she told them he was quiet and minded his own business. Raihana had found a praktik that was easier than Layla's as she had absolutely no work to do.
“The same,” Raihana said. “Very moody … but then his wife just died.”
“And you're not scared of him?” Layla asked.
Raihana shook her head. No, she wasn't scared of him. The fear had disappeared when he had laughed. He had joked with her about counting one bee after another and somehow that had made her feel better about him and the bees. He had suddenly seemed like a normal man, a friendly man, and she wasn't nervous around him anymore.
“What is that you do every day?” Layla asked.
They were making dinner together, as they always did. Raihana did most of the
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