Graduation Day, May 18th

We began the final morning of training with a lecture on common bee diseases, parasites, and how to treat them. The most common issues are easily remedied. Nosema is the greatest threat and can easily be treated by the introduction of screened bottom boards and top vents to facilitate the removal of the warm moist air which encourages the development of this disease. In the US, where these screened bottom boards are in common use, Nosema is a weakening disease, one which hurts our honey harvest and the mood of our bees. In Ethiopia, where many beekeepers have never heard of a screened bottom board, the disease can very often be fatal to the commonly found small traditional hives.

These screened bottom boards are also useful for ameliorating the symptoms of chalkbrood, which is caused by a fungus which thrives in overly damp hives, and varroa mite infestation.

Oh, varroa, what a can of worms you are! There are many opinions regarding the impact of the varroa mite in Africa, where it was first introduced in 1997 (South Africa). Research, such as this note produced by the Penn State Department of Entomology, indicates that the varroa mite can be found throughout Africa, and was specifically found to infest approximately %87 of the hives tested. The bloodsuckers (well, haemolymph-suckers, but who wants to be THAT technical) are here to stay, and everyone wants to know what is going to happen next.

And the answer is:

We are not sure.

Most studies have shown that African bees, regardless of breed or race, tend to be highly resistant to varroa destructor. Why this is so is the subject of most debate. Some people feel that it is because with their quick swarming behavior and small hive size breaks the brood cycle so often that varroa cannot get a decent foothold. Others believe that their resistance is due to their highly aggressive hygienic behavior; quickly ripping out and destroying any brood with a mother mite under the capping. A final theory holds that because the African worker bee matures as many as 2 days earlier than its American or European counterpart due to the minuscule cell size, the mites do not have time (or room) to reproduce efficiently in the worker comb. This forces most of the population onto the developing drones, as in their original host, Apis cerana, the Asiatic or Eastern honey bee.

Most likely, it is a combination of all three, but regardless of the reason, the result is the same. In Africa, the varroa mite has been reduced to an incidental parasite. This has huge implications for beekeeping back in the States, and in the rest of the world. How can we bring this resistance to our bees?

Obviously, we do not want to breed our bees to swarm quickly and keep small colonies. That would destroy our wonderfully large honey crops. We don't want to make them too aggressive either, although the development and distribution of hygienic lines such as the VSH carniolans and the Minnesota Hygienic italians have made huge strides in natural varroa tolerance/resistance. Still, these lines cannot compare to the natural hygienic tendencies commonly found in African hives, where up to 95% of dead or diseased brood is removed within 24 hours. These bees have developed hygienic behavior without complicated breeding programs or investment by individual beekeepers or large organizations. They have also developed highly defensive characteristics, and have been known to sting animals to death. Many believe that aggressive hygienic behavior and defensiveness are closely linked in these bees. It seems to be hard to have one without the other in Africa. Obviously crossing African and European/American bees is not the answer; the bees commonly known as "Africanized" may be hygienic, but they send the media into apoplexy.

This leaves us with the final (and most controversial!) theory: small cell regression. Many American beekeepers (including myself) have found that by forcing (or encouraging) our bees to build smaller and smaller worker comb, producing smaller and smaller workers. The research regarding the effectiveness of this practice has been mixed. Some research has concluded that it might help, while other papers have stated that the mite population is not reduced at all. That said, there is only a small (but bitter) minority of beekeepers who believe that the practice does any harm. Many beekeepers (including myself!) who give it a try, find that they can forgo any varroa treatment whatsoever, relying on the naturally hygienic behavior of the bees and the quicker maturation time of the worker brood to control the mite population. This practice does not seem to eliminate mites from the hive, even though it has reduced the varroa population to manageable levels. If you do a mite count of my hives in the summer you will find mites, but you will find very few (if any) sick, dwarfed, or k-winged workers. If you do a mite count in the late fall, you will find almost no mites.

Why could this be? I believe it is because the combination of quicker maturation time of the small cell workers encourages the mites to focus on developing drone brood, which takes much longer to develop in much roomier cells. When the drones are kicked out in the fall dearth, most of the breeding mite population is culled as well. I left my varroa card in under the screened bottom board of two of my small cell hives for a couple months starting in early February when the bees were first starting to stir. In a month and a half, I collected maybe 30-40 mites. For the record, that's over the entire card. Not so bad, considering I've never treated them for varroa. It seems to work in America, as well as in Africa, and I struggle to see the downside of giving it a try.

*ahem*

Back to Africa.

After my lecture, Desalegn started giving away some of the equipment and books donated by the Walter T. Kelley Company and Maxant Industries. In Nekemte, we shared a set of protective gear from Kelley, several beekeeping books and hive tools (also from Kelley), and a couple of Maxant-style hive tools from (duh) Maxant! I also shared a bunch of paint filters I had purchased before I left. They're great for filtering both honey and wax, and can be reused indefinitely. Local beekeepers can use them to process high quality honey without having to invest in expensive equipment. The people here seem to love a game of chance, and there were no hard feelings from the people who did not win the best prizes, and cheering for those who did.

Lottery in progress, hive tools in hand.

The luckiest winner.  Beekeeping Principles, leather gloves, and a new veil, all from Kelley.

Hive tool from Kelley, and filters from me.

Hive tool from Maxant, and filter from me.

Hive tool and copy of 'How to Keep Bees and Sell Honey' from Kelley, filter from me.

Maxant hive tool and a fresh new filter!

'How to Keep Bees & Sell Honey' from Kelley and another filter!  Glad I brought a lot!

Once we had distributed the goodies, we presented each of the 42 trainees with a certificate indicating their new education and deeming them "Trainers of Trainers". The goal of this program is to spread the knowledge of modern apiculture techniques throughout the country, and it is my hope that the information I shared will be of use both immediately and in the future.

The first graduate!

This dude asked a lot of good questions through the translator.  I liked him.

Graduation was followed by the reading of a poem written by one of the government Ministry of Agriculture employees who attended the training. It was about the art, love, and tradition of beekeeping in Ethiopia and was well received by the audience. After some closing remarks and thanks from myself and Desalegn, we parted ways.

Bees, the poem.  I really wish I had a translation.

On the way out of the conference hall, I discovered a feral hive in the eaves of the hotel. When I got closer to investigate, one of the workers immediately came out and stung me on the forehead. ZAP! My first direct hit in Africa! Awesome!

Free bees!

They did not appreciate my intrusion.

I kept the dying worker in my hand, and over a lunch of tibs, berbere and injera, I measured it against a dime that I had in my bag. As you can see, the bees here are significantly smaller than the ones we keep Stateside, even most of the small cell ones. They're fast too! I dream of bees like these, but not of them stinging me.

Tibs, berbere, and injera.  Nom, nom nom.

Itty bitty bee!  She is average sized for the local population, from what I have seen.

After lunch, I departed for the market to buy some honey, coffee beans (buna) and etan, or frankincense, all produced locally. I found many interesting products in the stores, but I found what I was looking for soon enough.

O Captain! my Captain! our oatmeal now is done;
The pot has weathered every stove, the food we sought is won;
The bowl is near, the spoons I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the bowl of cream, the sugar brown and sharing:

I love the smell of Ostrich in the morning!

Authentic Wazeline!  Only the finest hair tonic for me!

Yes, YES, YES!

Of all the things to put in my hair, garlic and placenta are at the top of the list.

The face of a trustworthy man.

In the back of one small shop was a large plastic trash can full of crystallized white spring honey. I purchased a small water jug to transport it in and the proprietor measured out 3.5 kilos in the back room while I took pictures. I also bought a kilogram of fresh unroasted local coffee beans for approximately $4. Hmmm....

Measuring out the honey, trying to leave the bee heads behind.

Next door, I got a kilogram of the local frankincense for another 4 dollars. We tried some of it in the shop and it is fine stuff.

Fresh local frankincense.  There are over 30 different kinds!

She wanted some too, so I shared.

A frankincense in the hand is worth two in the tree?

Following my orgy of shopping, we headed to Ebisa's house one last time for a late lunch or early dinner of roast potatoes in berbere, homemade yogurt, and injera. We had a dessert of roasted and spiced barley seeds and some of the fresh honey we had harvested together earlier in the week. I pulled out a small, white piece of comb full of honey that tasted remarkably like fresh maple syrup. I've never tasted honey like it. Coffee was served at the same time, and I treated myself to a small cup of the REALLY good stuff.

Food!

Barley!

Buna!

Small children!  And Desalegn!

Maple syrup honey?  Or a stroke.

Bellies full and taste buds happy, we departed for the last time to spend a final night in the hotel before we headed back to Addis Ababa.

Goodbye, for now.

Nekemte Training (w/o Power), May 17th

The thunderstorms woke me in the night and knocked out the power for much of the town, including the hotels where I have been staying and running the training sessions. It is hard to share a presentation when there is no power for the projector, so I got creative.

I split the group of 40 something rural farmers, beekeepers and Ministry of Agriculture experts into four groups with a mandate to discuss and determine the four greatest impediments to implementing modern beekeeping techniques and equipment in Ethiopia. I also asked them to brainstorm solutions to the problems, even if they were not entirely practical, and to think of at least one question regarding honeybee biology or modern beekeeping techniques. After an hour, they were to present their findings to the entire group.

The hall was quiet as the groups labored until morning tea.

Tea time is an orderly time.

Afterwards, we got down to business and all four groups presented their findings. Many of the problems were shared by all the groups. The availability and high cost of modern, moveable frame hives was always at the top of the list. Without the infrastructure of manufacturers, roads, truckers, and resellers that we are fortunate enough to have in America, it is difficult or impossible to obtain the woodenware without governmental assistance. It is estimated that well under 2% of Ethiopian hives are kept in these modern style hives.

Group 1: In English!

The solution is top-bar hives, commonly referred to as ‘transitional’ hives. With their moveable combs and resource friendly design, they are growing in popularity in both Ethiopia and abroad. They can be manufactured using local materials with very little cut lumber, which is the common limiting factor in rural areas. Many of the groups hit on this solution and we talked some more about how these hives can perform many of the same functions as ‘modern’ framed hives which cost many times more.

Group 2: Half in English!

There were also many questions about what do to about deforestation and loss of forage for the bees. Ethiopia is rapidly growing in population and the population demands more and more food. With this growth, comes the growth of agriculture and the loss of the trees that many hives need to survive. There is no simple solution to this problem, other than more efficient use of land, but we came to the conclusion that planting nectar producing plants in areas that were poor for agriculture would help improve the situation.

Group 3: A quarter in English!

The questions about deforestation and the rise of commercial agriculture also brought up issues with the increasing use of pesticides. Many beekeepers have lost their hives due to the overzealous application of these chemicals by local farmers, and as of yet, there is absolutely no regulation regarding their use (or misuse.) I suggested that if local farmers and beekeepers formed cooperatives, they could share information about when pesticides were going to be sprayed so that the beekeepers could seal or move their hives. It would be a mutually beneficial arrangement; the bees live, and the farmers get the pollination they need to get good yields.

Group 4: Only a little English

The final most common question was how to get bees that are as gentle as the ones in the US. This I answered as honestly as possible. The bees here have been bred for thousands of years to grow, swarm, and produce small hives quickly. These small hives would be harvested from and killed regularly by traditional beekeepers. This has made the bees small, fast, and highly defensive of the resources they have. Our bees, on the other hand, have been bred to swarm rarely, produce huge populations, and to make honey far in excess of their own needs. This has resulted in bees that are calm, gentle, and not overly aggressive.

Taking notes on queen breeding.

Breeding bees like these in Africa will take many years, and the switch to larger transitional and modern hives to increase populations and honey yields. By constantly breeding and splitting from their most gentle hives and by harvesting honey without tearing apart the hive, eventually bees which are less defensive will be produced. There aren’t any shortcuts; we’ve seen what the European/African hybrid commonly known as ‘Africanized’ bees can do. It will take a long time and care will have to be taken not to lose the vitality and strength of these awesome bees.

This brought us to a discussion of queen breeding techniques. In the afternoon, I gave a talk on breeding small numbers of queens by making walk-away splits. I also spoke about harvesting and processing ripe, high quality honey from a moveable frame hive, and leaving the unripe honey and brood for the bees to finish. By doing this, the hive is always left with some stores and the harvested honey is less likely to ferment.

The day was finished by a representative from the Ministry of Agriculture giving a talk on large scale queen breeding using grafting techniques.

Nekemte Honey Harvest, May 16

While I was looking at Ebisa’s hives, I asked him if it would be possible to see them during the day so that I could take good pictures to share. He said that opening them in the day would make them very mad, and that they should be left alone. When I told him that I had gloves and veils for him to borrow, he relented and said that we could check the bees during the day, but only in the very early morning, when it was still cold and the sun was very low.

The next morning, I woke up at 6 and we drove to Ebisa’s house carrying my suit, smoker, gloves, and a donated veil and pair of gloves for him to use.

We began by lighting a smoker with coals and dry cow dung to make a heavy white smoke and suiting up. I helped Ebisa into his veil, as he had not used one like it before. Over it, he put his coat, zipping and buttoning it up as far as possible to seal it tight against the veil. He tied the cuffs of his pants and the bottom of his coat with strips of cloth, and I helped him put on his gloves and get them all the way up his arms.

Once he was in his suit, I jumped into mine and we walked over to one of his bee trees carrying a ladder. Setting it against the tree, he climbed up and passed down one of the hanging hives into my waiting arms. He moved quickly, but gently, so while he passed down the hive, only a few bees flew out to investigate. Once he climbed down and we put some smoke in the entrance, everything changed.

Bees in a tree; a sticky situation.
It works on so many levels.

Instantly, the hive started roaring. Magnified by the shape of the hive, it was loud enough to hear 10 feet away. He told me it was ready to open, so I pulled away the entrance as he loosened the wire that held it in place. The sound multiplied, and we set the hive on its end so that we could see inside. Fresh white comb, a sure sign that nectar was coming in, and enough honey to harvest!

The hive magnifies the sound of the bees.

It was only half full, but it was hugely loud.

Ebisa put his arm into the hive and started pulling out combs of honey, and some brood by accident. Normally, he does this without gloves. I can’t imagine how often he gets stung, even at night.

The bees did not like this.

Brood comb is often harvested along with the honey by accident.  It is unavoidable in the traditional style hives where you can't see the combs until you have torn them out.
As an aside, look how regular and straight the comb is.  It looks like it was built on foundation.

The honeycomb was tossed into a bucket and when it was full, we closed up the hive and carried it back to the tree to return to its regular home. From there, we moved to his bee shelter to take a look at one of his modern Zander-style hives. After smoking the entrance and waiting a minute, we pried off the top with our hive tools. These hives have no inner covers, so opening them immediately exposes the top bars of all the frames and sends up clouds of bees. They immediately started bouncing off our veils, trying to scare us away. It almost worked. We pulled out several frames to look at them and found good brood and fresh comb being filled with honey. The cells in the comb are all tiny; much, much smaller than even our small cell comb. I estimated that the average cell was maybe 4-4.5mm across, almost unbelievably smaller than the comb I am accustomed to seeing. The difference is great enough to see easily without measuring or comparing to a sample of large cell comb. Accordingly, the bees are much smaller. They are smaller than some of the flies we have in NYC, but they are incredibly fast.

Oh. And they can sting.

Fresh honey!

A frame from a modern-style Zander hive being filled with fresh comb and rich, dark honey.

After looking at a few combs, we smoked the bees down and gingerly replaced the outer cover. As we walked away, my foot caught the support leg holding the hive and almost knocked it to the ground, but I caught it just in time, and Ebisa put the leg back in place. The bees didn’t care for the jolt, and came out to let us know. Behind our veils and gloves, we had little to worry about, but the people in the nearby houses didn’t have protective gear on, so we walked into the bushes to lose the bees while we carried the bucket of honey.

Once we had minimized the number of bees following us, we ran to the house to weigh the honey. We brought the smoker inside to mask any stings and his daughter, Ababo (Flower), and his son, Kena (Gift), took turns smoking bees out the door and seemed to delight in doing it.

Ababo helping to chase the bees away.

Ripe honey, ready for harvesting.

A very unhappy honey bee.  Augustus Gloop's hymenopteran cousin.

He loaded the honey onto an old balance-style scale, and carefully weighed it at 4.5kgs of honey. When he extracts and filters it, he will sell it at market for 40-50 birr per kilo, or about $1 per pound. As his wife helped us wash our hands, he gave us each a piece of comb to eat and enjoy, and to me he gifted a kilogram of his reserved honey. It is so crystallized that it can be stored in a tied plastic grocery bag without leaking, but it is delicious. I’m looking forward to sharing it with my friends back home. The fresh honey we ate was dark and very rich. It reminded me of the dark amber fall honey we make in New York City.

4.5 kilos, a good harvest.

Kena is excited for fresh honey, and is not afraid of the bees.

Except when one gets too close.  Hileu, our driver, helped weigh the honey.

A tasty snack.

Desalegn, Kena, and Hileu enjoying the treat.

When we had finished enjoying the comb, we washed our hands again and headed back to the car, but not before I gave Ebisa the veil and gloves he had used as a thank you. Both were donated by the Walter T. Kelley Company, and I still have four more sets to share! His kids were really excited about them and they should make his beekeeping duties much more pleasant.

Ejigayhu, Ebisa's wife and Desalegn's sister, helped us to wash our hands.

Kena liked the veil, so I gave it to him.

Showing off goodies from the faranji.

Back in town, we had a quick breakfast, moved to a newer hotel (with internet!) and went back to the lecture hall to work with the trainees for a few hours. I ended up having most of the day off as a representative from the Ministry of Agriculture had prepared a talk about the history of apiculture in Ethiopia, and differing practices in the various regions of the country. I was disappointed that I could not understand it, and Desalegn suggested that I take the afternoon off.

A small sting through my gloves.  I didn't notice until breakfast.

Hileu, Desalegn and Ebisa taking some breakfast.  Injera with every meal.

My feet were muddy, so I covered them with bags until they dried and I could clean them.

Local farmers, beekeepers, and government trainers enjoying some tea and cake.

Many people at the conference knew a good amount of English; we talked about bees, culture, and the differences between American and Ethiopian management practices.
Oh, and girls.  They all wanted to know if I was married.

Learning about the history of regional apiculture in Ethiopia.
In Amharic.
Welp.

I found a katydid!  According to Leviticus, I could eat this!
I didn't.

As it turns out, I needed the break. As soon as I got off my feet, I realized I was exhausted and spent the rest of the day lounging in my room as thunderstorms passed overhead and soaked the city.

Storm's a'comin', Pa.