cooking while Layla helped with the chopping and cleaning up. The division of labor had asserted itself as soon as Raihana arrived in Layla's house. Layla had been relieved. She had tried to learn how to cook but just like Raihana couldn't sew anything without it going completely wrong, Layla couldn't cook. She started out making biriyani and somehow it never tasted right and more often than not, something got burned at the bottom of the pot. Once she had tried to make samboosas and it had been a disaster of monumental proportions.
Raihana, on the other hand, could take potatoes and onions and make the perfect sabzi to go with rice or rotis. She made excellent desserts, even Danish ones, after she had gotten recipes from a Danish cookbook in the language school's library.
Layla, Kabir, and especially Shahrukh had been thrilled to find Danish layer cake one evening—made just as it was in the bakeries with layers of sponge, yellow custard, fresh strawberries, and whipped cream.
“I have been making frames. Next week we check on the bee colonies to see how many are alive and how many died,” she said. “We are already late. He should have started looking at the bees two or three weeks ago. It is the end of April now … many bees will have died and some colonies might be getting ready to swarm.”
“Swarm?”
Raihana nodded casually as if it were a word that she used often. The truth was that she'd had to look it up and it had taken her several days and help from Christina to understand what it meant.
“If there are too many bees in a hive then half the bees leave and go elsewhere looking for food,” she told Layla.
Layla stared at her. “How do you know this?”
Raihana feigned nonchalance. But she was proud of what she had learned about bees in just a month. Gunnar hadn't helped much. In the garage workshop she had found a black leather diary in which someone had painstakingly recorded a year of beekeeping with a blue ink pen. The writing was so neat that it seemed as if it had been printed on a laser printer like the ones at the language school, instead of being written by hand.
It was in Danish, and Raihana could decipher about a third with her Danish-to-Dari dictionary. For the rest she went to Christina with questions.
Christina had looked puzzled at the black diary.
“It is okay to use?” she asked Christina, worried that maybe she shouldn't have the diary.
“Yes, yes,” Christina said. “Gunnar gave this to you?”
Raihana nodded. Technically he had not given it to her. She had found it and asked him if she could take it with her and he had waved his hand. She wasn't sure he had understood what she had said and if what she had said in Danish was even understandable. But it was just a book; she didn't think anyone would mind. Obviously the Danish man didn't seem to care.
“Okay, let's see what your question is,” Christina said, flipping to the page Raihana had marked with a piece of paper.
For the next few Wednesdays during their one-on-one study sessions, Raihana and Christina pored through the black diary. The technical terms were the hardest for Raihana as there was no way to translate them. But Christina's husband was a beekeeper too, so she drew diagrams to explain the various tools used for beekeeping.
“Anna was a very passionate woman,” Christina said, smiling at a passage where Anna talked about how hard the bees worked.
Raihana had to consult her dictionary to find out the meaning of the word passionate. Reading the dictionary was like putting the pieces of a puzzle together and Raihana took pleasure in the game.
Raihana preferred going to school than to her praktik. It was boring to go and sit in the Danish man's garage. The Danish man didn't speak with her or teach her anything. He sat there like a lump of clay, ignoring her. However, Raihana felt she couldn't back out now, not after she had convinced Kabir and Layla that this was such a good idea.
But she was annoyed
Raihana, on the other hand, could take potatoes and onions and make the perfect sabzi to go with rice or rotis. She made excellent desserts, even Danish ones, after she had gotten recipes from a Danish cookbook in the language school's library.
Layla, Kabir, and especially Shahrukh had been thrilled to find Danish layer cake one evening—made just as it was in the bakeries with layers of sponge, yellow custard, fresh strawberries, and whipped cream.
“I have been making frames. Next week we check on the bee colonies to see how many are alive and how many died,” she said. “We are already late. He should have started looking at the bees two or three weeks ago. It is the end of April now … many bees will have died and some colonies might be getting ready to swarm.”
“Swarm?”
Raihana nodded casually as if it were a word that she used often. The truth was that she'd had to look it up and it had taken her several days and help from Christina to understand what it meant.
“If there are too many bees in a hive then half the bees leave and go elsewhere looking for food,” she told Layla.
Layla stared at her. “How do you know this?”
Raihana feigned nonchalance. But she was proud of what she had learned about bees in just a month. Gunnar hadn't helped much. In the garage workshop she had found a black leather diary in which someone had painstakingly recorded a year of beekeeping with a blue ink pen. The writing was so neat that it seemed as if it had been printed on a laser printer like the ones at the language school, instead of being written by hand.
It was in Danish, and Raihana could decipher about a third with her Danish-to-Dari dictionary. For the rest she went to Christina with questions.
Christina had looked puzzled at the black diary.
“It is okay to use?” she asked Christina, worried that maybe she shouldn't have the diary.
“Yes, yes,” Christina said. “Gunnar gave this to you?”
Raihana nodded. Technically he had not given it to her. She had found it and asked him if she could take it with her and he had waved his hand. She wasn't sure he had understood what she had said and if what she had said in Danish was even understandable. But it was just a book; she didn't think anyone would mind. Obviously the Danish man didn't seem to care.
“Okay, let's see what your question is,” Christina said, flipping to the page Raihana had marked with a piece of paper.
For the next few Wednesdays during their one-on-one study sessions, Raihana and Christina pored through the black diary. The technical terms were the hardest for Raihana as there was no way to translate them. But Christina's husband was a beekeeper too, so she drew diagrams to explain the various tools used for beekeeping.
“Anna was a very passionate woman,” Christina said, smiling at a passage where Anna talked about how hard the bees worked.
Raihana had to consult her dictionary to find out the meaning of the word passionate. Reading the dictionary was like putting the pieces of a puzzle together and Raihana took pleasure in the game.
Raihana preferred going to school than to her praktik. It was boring to go and sit in the Danish man's garage. The Danish man didn't speak with her or teach her anything. He sat there like a lump of clay, ignoring her. However, Raihana felt she couldn't back out now, not after she had convinced Kabir and Layla that this was such a good idea.
But she was annoyed
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