Keep the Bees, Hold them in Your Heart

The final installment of photos from my time on the honey farm in Central Finland.  Unfortunately I have no pictures of bees.  And only one picture of honey.  And almost no pictures of people.  This is why I don't take pictures.  

 Sunset from my cottage at the lake.

An evening row.  

 Probably shouldn't have clicked "X-tra large" on this photo.

 Chair to place towel on  for late night sauna sessions.  If you're swimming with clothes on it's not a real sauna.

 One morning when Madars was hungover I put a bear fence with car-battery attached to it around his front door.

 He LOOKS hungover.

 Irina and Marja.  Great cooks.  Leftover meals from the party.  We ate them for five meals straight.  By the end of the only thing I could stand were the meatballs.

 Ari:  beekeeper extraordinaire and one of my many nemeses.

 The road from my cabin up to the house.

 The honey on the left is the one we sacrificed our skin to produce.

 Korpilahti:  called "The Manhattan of Central Finland" by absolutely no one

 Annie, the Vietnamese WWOOFer, folding the boxes that were responsible for what might be mild carpel tunnel in my right wrist.

 Marja cooking with reindeeer.

Jake, the bearded hipster who claimed to be from New York but was actually from Iowa.  I would claim Iowa over New York in the beat of a heart.  

Pictures From the Front

I am depressed. I am on a sheep farm.  I need to get out of here.  I'll explain more why later.

For now content yourselves with these pictures, courtesy of my friend Riitta (not a typo):

Me in downtown Korpilahti.

The chicks.

The old house at the Seppällä farm.  Where Irina (the Russian girl) lived.

The main house.  Jake and I.

Flying squirrel.

Lovely Riitta.  

the 20 Most Common Things You Get Asked to Do While WWOOFing

(or actually 14)

Can you stack this wood?

Can you cut this wood?

Can you paint this wood?

Can you stack these boxes?

Can you clean these boxes?

Can you clean these dishes?

Can you stack these palettes?

Can you put these posts in?

Can you take these posts out?

Can you feed those animals?

Can you clean this shed?

Can you grab that tool from the truck?

Can you put this back in the truck?

Can you help me lift this?

Basically what I've learned is this: Take any object in vast quantities, clean it up, stack it in a big pile, build a fence around it and.... congratulations: you're a farmer!

Ship Shape Sheep

There is one question that is firmly fixed in my mind right now: What am I doing on a sheep farm 30km north of the nearest town with a guy named matt who hasn't shaved in several months and is into "hard fantasy novels"?  Of course, there are other questions on my mind.  Where are all the sheep?  Why were there two hares fighting in the field outside?  Why do none of the neighboring houses have lights on?  Why does everyone speak Swedish?  Why does Matt NOT speak Swedish?

I don't know if I will find the answer to these questions.  For now I must content myself with petting his two dogs Spirit and Jack who are currently splayed out on the floor by my feet and also with reading the new English novel I just bought at a department store in Pori, one of the most dead Finnish towns I have ever been to.  Answers should come when we start working tomorrow, giving the sheep water and putting fences into the ground to keep them from wondering.  I'm beginning to realize that a lot of farm work involves building fences.

Last night I stayed in Jyväskylä with a lesbian girl named Sani and an Argentinian couple who has been living in Kuopio.  We drank red wine and I think the Argentinian girl got a little tipsy because she was rolling around at length on the yoga ball and also talking about some kind of apparatus that would be like the "tingler" that's used for your head but instead for your entire body.  Basically she just wanted to have goosebumps all the time.  It was a little hard to understand.  I think at one point I suggested hanging nails from string and said the word "clavos" in Spanish.  The sun set very late.

Now I am in the computer roomm in Matt's house and he's downstairs watching some kind of fantasy series.  I really have no idea what the next five days have in store for me, but I figure at the very least A) a fair amount of loneliness and B) lots of Kiwi slang I don't understand.  I have caught myself just nodding yes to feign comprehension at least a few times so far when Matt has used expressions I don't understand.  Someone needs to tell people from New Zealand that the word "yes" is not pronounced "yis".

I can't believe my time at the bee farm is over already.  I can't believe that right now all the people I came to know and love are probably sitting down for a nice dinner, talking about the shenanigans from the day and who got stung and how the chicks are getting so big, and I can't believe that the American couple has moved into the cottage by the lake and taken over where I lived.  But I did need to get out of there at some point. I was ready.

And now I am ready for sheep.

Älä raavi!

I am currently sitting in the apartment of a Chilean guy who lives in the upstairs of a duplex 5km outside of the Finnish town of Jyväsklä.  Today was my last day at at the bee farm with Ari and Marja.  Marja and I made delicious meatballs made of reindeer and diced ham that I helped her to prepare.  We got fresh parsley and chives from the garden which we cut with scissors, then fried the meatballs and served them over buckwheat with tomatoes in vinegar and oil on the side.

But anyway, that's all over now.  I'm in Jyväskylä in the apartment of this Chilean guy who I barely know but who's really nice (he's one of the dudes in the 4H club who came to the farm the other day to experience Finnish farm life.  He accidentally left his jacket and today we met up so I could give it back).  We're drinking black tea and he's lamenting the lack of instructions in Spanish for the new wireless headphones he just got in the mail. He's had an interesting life.  His father abandoned him and his mother when he was little, he barely ever talks to his mother now who still lives in Santiago, he has no aunts and uncles, he's an only child, and his Finnish wife just divorced him.  Tough.  And he's unemployed.  But he doesn't seem down at all.  He seems fairly happy and carefree and in good physical shape doespite the fact that all he seems to do is play video games. He also speaks great Finnish, an area in which his lack of English has actully helped him since people are forced to speak Finnish with him instead of just switch over to English.  I just witnessed a conversation between him and his ex-mother and law dowstairs (she rents the place he lives) and was completely blown away by his fluency and comprehension.  But I guess he has lived here a few years.

In other news, three nights ago Ari and I transported almost a million bees.  We had 48 hives, each with about 20,000 bees.  And nothing between us and the bees.  No guard or protection.  No window.  No anything. Just us in the front and th bees in the back.  Luckily the bees are surprising tranquil when being transported.  First you hit them with the smoker so they think there's a forest fire and they go inside the hive.  Then once you have them in the car the engine sort of lulls them into tranquility.  They are a lot like infants in that way.  The noise of the engine is comforting (I like to think it reminds them of a really big mother bee) and the movement lulls them into a kind of daze.  When you get to your destination they crawl out groggy eyed out of the hive to look around, but they arent't looking to sting you.  they just want to check things out.

However, like an infant, as soon as you pick them up and physically move them they can get a little fussy.  And when your arm is wrapped around the entrance of the hive youre carrying things can get a little messy. At the third site we visited I was carrying one hive when all the sudden I felt the horrible flap of insect wings against my bare skin.  Immediately I knew that a bee had worked its way inside my glove and was now trying to get out and panicking.  When bees panic they sting, which is exactly what this one did, forcing its stinger into the straining muscle of my forearm. And instead of being able to just swat the bee off and run off into the woods screaming and lighting my hair on fire I was forced to gently put the box down, walk away from the hives, and then take off my glove before removing the stinger.  But by then it was too late.  The venom was in me.  And for the last two days my arm has looked like a balloon.

So I'm not as immune to bee stings as I thought.  One day Ari said "Mark was born to be a beekeeper.  I've never seen someone more naturally resistant." and  I basked in this praise until I realized there are a lot of factors with stings and I got a little bit lucky with the sting in the neck.  If the stinger goes into a muscle or a vein or deeper or stays in for longer, the results can be a lot worse.  And though I was a little sad to leave the farm, I have no problems with leaving the bees.  I will be fine if I never see the inside of a hive again.  I don't intend to be a beekeeper.  I'll stick with the animals that don't sting you like cats and dogs and chickens.

The Chilean is now playing some kind of online game with his cousin who lives in Norway.  The amount of tenchnology in his room is amazing. He's got a big screen TV and two laptops and his new state of the art headphones.  The sun is shining outside and tonight I'll meet the two Finnish girls I'm staying with who are also hosting an Argentinian couple for the night.  And then tomorrow I go to the coast to work on a sheep farm.  I'm ready to go home.  I wish I could just get on a plane to Seattle right now, but my plane doesn't leave Stockholm until the 18th. But for now I can enjoy this beautiful Finnish afternoon and the fact that the sun will shine until late.  And I have a temporary friend with whom to drink tea with and speak Spanish.

More to come soon from the coast.  Until then, älä ravi, it only makes it worse.  

A Hemingway Quote and Two Beekeeping Photos From Yesterday

"Two hours later Dr. Valentini came into the room. He was in a great hurry and the points of his mustache stood straight up. He was a major, his face was tanned and he laughed all the time.

'How did you do it, this rotten thing?' he asked. 'Let me see the plates. Yes. Yes. That’s it. You look healthy as a goat.'" -- A Farewell to Arms

 Ari inspects the bees while I look on.  "I think we'll be back at 4pm, so pack a lunch," he said yesterday.  We got back at 8:30pm. 

The last site of the day.  Molly, from New York, looks on as Ari operates.  I got shocked by the sheep fence in the left side of the photo.  Beautiful birch also on the left.  We ate fresh honey from these hives.  It was nauseatingly good and also just nauseating.

Now Im going to walk into town!  A beautiful reprieve!  6km or so!  And tonight an overnight trip with Ari that i am a little bit apprehensive about but im sure will be great!

Mark

Routine is Hyvää (Usually)

 I have sort of developed a routine which is pretty comforting.  Every day I wake up around 930 and walk to the house where I have granola topped with some kind of sour berry picked directly from the forest and fresh organic honey.  Then I feed the chickens.  This part I love.  I talk to them, and have been amazed by how much the chicks have grown since ive been here, about doubling in size.  If the black hen has layed eggs I snatch them from her and if not I give her a mean look that tries to convey that Im disappointed with production levels.  I have never been very impressed by the rooster.  Whenever I try to pet him he always cowers behind the hens.  What kind of man is that?

After this I usually embark on the morning task, which could be anything from going out with Ari in the Sprinter to do work at the bee hives or helping Marja to clean up the kitchen.  Today was a little bit strange because after helping Ari with the bees in the morning (see: standing, watching him) I spent the rest of the morning building a an electrified bear fence around Madders front door so that it would be the first thing he saw when he woke up from his hangover and stepped out the front door.  I didnt actually make it live but I did make it look like it was hooked up to a battery and even put the "high voltage" sign on it for good measure.  Either way I got some good pictures.  Then, this afternoon, Madders and I drove around looking for queens.  We had to search for the colonies to find the queens and then when we found them we'd put them in a new, unpopulated colony so that the former colony would start making more queens.  What I mostly did though was sit around and let the bees try to sting me, though a lot of my fear has left me.  I got stung today once through the suit but since the bee couldnt fully get its stinger in me it didnt really hurt.  It felt more like getting bit by an ant.

My time here is rapidly drawing to a close.  I have about a week left and then Ill probably make my way to Stockholm to get a flight home.  I have a very good feeling about the pacific northwest this summer.  I put my time in this winter so I plan to take advantage of the summer: cruising around Capitol Hill (the Hill!) on a penny board, slacklining at Cal Anderson, doing more yardwork, and generally trying to be the biggest hipster possible.

But things are also looking up here.  Im going to take a sauna tonight and supremely hope the american couple joins me.  And then maybe Ill go fishing again.  Or just lie in bed and read "A Farewell to Arms".  The blue, blue Finnish sky is the limit.