Bees, miel, and heavy truths.

“I hadn't been out to the hives before, so to start off she gave me a lesson in what she called 'bee yard etiquette'. She reminded me that the world was really one bee yard, and the same rules work fine in both places. Don't be afraid, as no life-loving bee wants to sting you. Still, don't be an idiot; wear long sleeves and pants. Don't swat. Don't even think about swatting. If you feel angry, whistle. Anger agitates while whistling melts a bee's temper. Act like you know what you're doing, even if you don't. Above all, send the bees love. Every little thing wants to be loved."

-Sue Monk Kidd The Secret Life of Bees

A year ago, I read The Secret Life of Bees, and it inspired me to try my hand in bee-keeping. My friend Paco told me that the bees get up at 5am, but I think the Queen sleeps in. So I got up at 5:30. They suited me up from head to toe, assuring that there would be no sneak attacks. They told me to make sure the net was always a few inches away from my face. They told me to get ready, because we were going to come back running. Good thing I wore my tennies (as my mom calls them). Luis told me that I could take all the photos I wanted, but once they put the gloves on me, I realized that the photo shoot might be difficult.  Hugo asked me if I was allergic to bees. I said 'no,' not that I know of. (Recalling that my friend Tyler wasn't allergic to bees in the US either, and upon being stung by one here in ES his throat swelled up, and had to be rushed to the local clinic... I hoped that wouldn't be my fate.)

I was informed we would be taking 4 trips to the bee boxes and between each trip we would be processing the honey combs in a canopy surrounded by mesh netting. I did great on the first trip, but near the end I found myself saying out loud, "no tengo miedo, no tengo miedo." I'm not scared, I'm not scared. And to be fair, I wasn't scared. The buzzing made me anxious, and when my face net was being weighed down by the amount of bees on it, I needed some convincing that I wasn't scared. I was the first one running down the hill, the other three in tow with two boxes of honey combs. 

Hugo told me that bees are the smartest insects. I believe it. They may also be the most loyal. Once a bee stings, it dies. They sting, and die, to protect the queen. She has awesome body guards. We sliced the cap off the honeycomb, placed them in the hand-powered centrifuge, and out came the sweet goodness. At some point I may have just opened the spout and drank from it. I was pretty close to a sugar coma, but honey straight off the comb is indescribable. It reminded me of the first time I had a ripe banana straight off the tree in Ecuador and I said, 'so this is what a banana tastes like?' 

Near the end of the third trip, I may have had a panic attack, and I may have swatted. I forgot the wise words from my beloved novel. I loved them for their beautifully delicious miel but I don't think they loved me very much in my big white suit eating their miel. So I headed to the hammock to wait for my amigos to finish the job. Hammocks are the best place to wait, and the best place to calm down after a panic attack.

Swinging in the hammock on a beautifully warm breezy morning, I thought about how much I loved The Secret Life of Bees, and how I had finally gone out to meet these little creatures. Check. I thought about all the things I have done here in El Salvador; all of the firsts, all of the fears overcome, and all of the things that my Salvadoran friends have taught me directly and indirectly. I came to Peace Corps with no expectations, and I am leaving fulfilled, loved, devastated, and changed.

"Knowing can be a curse on a person's life. I'd traded in a pack of lies for a pack of truth, and I didn't know which one was heavier. Which one took the most strength to carry around? It was a ridiculous question, though, because once you know the truth, you can't ever go back and pick up your suitcase of lies. Heavier or not, the truth is yours now.”

-Sue Kidd The Secret Life of Bees

Heavier or not the truth is yours now... You can no longer go back and pick up your suitcase of lies. That is a powerful pair of sentences. I have a lot of opinions. I used to know a lot of things. I used to be able to tell you the foreign policy of South Korea frontwards and backwards, and then stand in front of people and argue about it. I used to be able to sit behind piles of books about the history of politics in Peru, and turn that into a paper about how the global recession would impact the Peruvian political economic landscape. Once, I stood in front of my peers and broke down a dense paper on Gunboat Diplomacy into terms we could all understand. I don't mean to say that all of the things I once knew about the world are lies, but I do mean to admit that I never knew the whole truth. El Salvador has taught me just how much I do not know. 

This experience beyond all else has been painfully humbling. I thought I knew that sustainability was the right way, and then I learned the hard way that not everything can be sustainable, and then I realized that people who write that word in fancy books may not understand what it looks like on the ground. However, at the end of two years, I don't know how to fix most things that stand in the way of my community and a better quality of life. I think we, development practitioners, are doing better than the days we used to just throw rice and clothes on people from planes and call it a day. However, I think that the current model we are using for development is getting tired and worn out. Every organization I see does what I do, and my community knows the drill. They know how to talk the talk and walk the walk, and get anything they want for free. Then many of them use the free bricks meant for the latrine for a new wall in their house... reality, and only the tip of the iceberg. If the rest of the world of development looks like this, then we need to make some changes. We need to keep moving in a positive direction. 

So my suitcase of lies was really just mis-truths. Things I thought I was sure about. Now I am unsure. And my new pack of heavy truths are too numerous to mention here and too devastating to mention light-heartedly in a blog. I have become a part of this community, and I know things about people that completely and utterly break my heart. No one prepared me for the distrust within my community, or the psychological effects of poverty and violence. That wasn't in the book Aguilera :).

All I know for sure is there are souls that need healing, and there is no Millennium Development Goal for that. How can I expect my community to act as one and work together, if they are individually hurting or oppressed? 

There are so many people in the world that need food right now, today. There are children dying at devastating rates from curable illnesses like diarrhea. There are wars at every corner and rape is used a weapon. There are young girls being forced, bribed, and convinced to sell their bodies. There are men buying those bodies. There are so many needs. There are so many broken hearts. There are so many souls that need healing.

And I am unsure of how we as a world can go about healing these souls, that so desperately need individualized cures. 

That is a heavy truth to carry. Just so you know how I feel. Just so you know why I might stutter when you ask "What I learned the most." or "What my favorite thing about Peace Corps was." or "How it feels to be home". The truth is, I am exhausted. But I am so inspired to embark on the journey to heal souls. However I can and wherever I can. I think smiles help. I think laughing with people is really great. And I think gaining someone's trust is a foundation for healing. I think I will start there.

“After you get stung, you can't get unstung no matter how much you whine about it.” 

-Sue Monk Kidd The Secret Life of Bees

So I got stung, repeatedly.... El Salvador was not always kind to me. But in the end I got the honey off the comb. In the end, it was worth it.  I am sad to leave this life, to leave the family I have made here. But I am excited to put to use what they have taught me; kindness, generosity, and how to make a killer pupusa. I got stained, scarred, and stung and lived to tell about it because I was loved. So to the man who sent me to the darkest corner of the world, because he thought that I was tough enough to handle it -ahem, Aguilera, ahem- thank you. These unique challenges taught me very special lessons. And it isn't so dark after all. There is so much light, I just wish the Diario de Hoy and Univision would find some of it and broadcast it for the world to see.