Lost in Translation

I am what I call, “Street Learned” in the German language.  What I have learned is from being out and about, listening and connecting with people.  Needless to say, I misinterpret things from time to time.  This is a story about one such time, but how mistakes can be rather wonderful if you embrace them.

On this particular day, I was excited to find a poster in town announcing a “Open house” or in German, “Open Door Day” at our local bee keepers organization.   Since moving to this village I have been a bit fascinated by this square box of a building hidden off the road a bit.  It had a sign with a painted bee and a hive announcing they sold honey.  Being a honey lover, I knew I just had to get in there one day.

When the  appointed day arrived and I waited patiently for the time printed on the poster…camera gear at the ready.  Ever in search of new and diverse subjects to photograph and document, the whole idea of learning more about the bees was thrilling.

I arrived on that sunny summers day, dressing in a thin cotton dress and sandals.  The parking lot was full, which was a good sign.   I entered the dark building and once my eyes made the adjustment to the low light, I realized I was standing in a classroom.  The room was full of adult students watching a slideshow…all heads turned.  With an embarrassed smile I excused myself.  I couldn’t help thinking…”Where are all the welcoming drinks and snacks”.  Thus, I leaned my translation mistake…this was a course on bee keeping, not an open house.  Oops!

Suddenly from around the corner came a friendly face.  Smiling, I explained how I must have read their poster incorrectly, that I was an American photographer living in the village and I would love to learn more about the bees and perhaps capture some photos.
With a big warm smile, she quickly dressed in her protective suit and gauze covered hat and led me into the “Hive House”.  This large metal pre-fabricated building with an entire wall of windows and a low slit spanning it’s length for the bees to travel in and out on their daily collections.  Inside were about 8 large hive boxes buzzing with life.

It was explained to me, that these hives were the property of some people new to bee keeping (those folks in the class) and before they can move their bees to their private lands they had to complete the course being offered and even then the hives must be kept here for a period time.  Everything is very regulated here in Germany but it was interesting to me to discover even been keeping is a pretty big process.

As a child I was attacked by a swarm of bees when on a hike a fellow camp goer unknowingly tread upon a nest.  Sending the angry bees into the air to protect their hive.  A frightening experience that affected me for many years until my parents moved to West Virginia, where a neighbor who kept bees shared with me his love of bees.  It helped me to be less afraid of the creatures, but never did I think I would ever be capable of what came next.

As I readied my camera and asked questions at high speeds trying to take my mind off what was happening around me, the bee keeper began to open the hives.  The air was electric with the buzzing of the copious amount of bees, wondering what was going on.    Strangely empowered and insulated by watching the scene through my lens, I keep concentration on setting the light and focus.   Attempting to capture the gold light which filled the room cast by the glow of the honey combs being held up to the light of the window.

Once outside, I asked why it was safe for me dressed in nothing but thin cotton to be inside with the loose bees.  The giggling director  of the center explained in a rather plain manner, “the weather is calm so the bees are too…now if it had been raining”.

I hope you enjoy the images from this amazingly empowering day.  It always amazes me how when we face what we believe to be our worst fears…we are in someway lighter!