May 22, 2006
By Eli Ashkenazi
Ali Kabha, a high-school teacher and professional apiarist, puts a transparent beehive on the table. His 15 students intently watch what is going on through a glass partition.
"The behavior of the bees is fascinating. Their order, organization, division of labor and the equality between the workers, the cleanliness and the diligence - so many clever attributes in such a tiny creature," says Raniya Akal, one of the students.
Akal and her 14 classmates are participating in a course on raising bees and making honey, initiated by the Sindianat Hagalil non-profit association, which has its headquarters in Kafr Kara. The organization comprises Jewish and Arab women whose aim is to further ties between the two sectors, to help Arab farmers in the Galilee, to promote honest business dealings, and to further the status of women.
The course is being held in conjunction with, and in the offices of, the Ma'an association for assisting workers.
Initially, the the course, which runs for several months, was opened to Arab women who were unable to find jobs. It was soon joined, however, by a number of male construction workers, an artist, a pensioner, a married couple, a mother and her daughter, and three sisters, all residents of Kafr Kara.
"The idea was to help women to help with household expenses," says Sharon Lior, one of the organizers. "The income from selling honey can help finance essential needs for the family, such as an extramural activity for the children or a computer. Many of the families have only one income and it barely covers essentials."
When the course is over, the participants will be given loans to buy hives and equipment. They will have to return the money only after they begin selling. "The aim is to strengthen the economic basis of the nuclear family," Lior says.
Kabha says that "a few bee hives do not require a big investment, and people can also work at something else. Bees are not like sheep or cows that need to be fed and tended daily."

photo: Nitzan Shorer
One of the students, Larsmi Masri, who works in a marble workshop, already has five hives that he keeps on the outskirts of the village. "I was looking for real, natural honey," he says. "When I started studying, I was also attracted by the bees' behavior and way of life."
The honey he now manufactures is sufficient for his family's needs, and they save by not buying outside. He has started selling a small quantity and hopes to expand the business gradually. "The participants are very excited with the course. They have formed a kind of social group and the members cooperate with each other," says Hatam Na'amana, an activist with Ma'an. But she says the initiators warned the participants "not to build up too high hopes for serious incomes. It takes time to become really professional. Meanwhile, I call it a hobby."
Adnan Uburakia, another member of the group, works long hours during the week in an institution for the mentally disabled.
"After hours of difficult work, mostly from an emotional point of view, the bees make me feel relaxed," he says. "In the first place, I find this work enjoyable. If I succeed, I'll also earn a little money for the family. In any event, I won't lose."
Ahmed Kalash, a retired mechanic without a pension, says he lives from his savings and would like to supplement them. He expects, however, to be able to earn only some NIS 300 from selling honey, and says he is not placing too many hopes on this as a profession.
Akal is the artist. She says she joined the course because her art is also "based on the soil and on nature."
About the bees, she says: "Their work is pure art. In the past few years, people have distanced themselves from agriculture and nature and I'd like to return to that, to the land. It also gives me inspiration for my art."
Akal says her family uses a great deal of honey and the apiary will thus help them to save. "This way, we'll also know we're getting the real thing, without any artificial additives such as sugar. Perhaps in the future, I'll go into it more, and I'll be able to earn a good living from it," she says.

photo: Nitzan Shorer