***
Yesterday I took Feleke to try out for a soccer team. At the end of the tryout, the coach came over and told us that the team was already full. He was very apologetic and encouraging to Feleke, but said there were 20 kids trying out for 4 slots. Feleke was disappointed; he had hoped to be on a team. But he thoroughly enjoyed playing with the other kids anyway. He loves playing soccer. You can see the happiness on his face. He obviously loves doing something that he's good at. We'll keep looking for a team for him. Most of the travel teams are full, and I'm not sure we have time for a travel team anyway. Maybe in the fall he can play Rec & Ed, which is all local and everyone is guaranteed to be placed on a team.
***
This morning Feleke started robot camp--a camp for kids who want to learn about robots. (Not a camp for children who are themselves robots.) This sounded perfect for Feleke. We learned early on that he loves to take things apart and put them back together, and he has a special, somewhat inexplicable talent for hi-tech stuff--computers, cameras, Ipods, Ipads, and the like. He will go into our garage and find old electronic devices that we've consigned to the junk pile, old smoke detectors and electric baby swings, and completely disassemble and then reassemble them, or scavenge them for parts for some new, not necessarily useful invention. When he needs a repair for his bike, he harvests parts from other, older bikes that we have. And he's a wiz (of sorts) on the computer. He likes to make movies on the Apple and listen to music. I think I've mentioned that Feleke likes to play computer games. Much of this behavior, of course, he picked up from my kids, and he sometimes gets our computer so discombobulated that it takes hours to restore the default settings. Still, there's no denying his interest in and aptitude for machines.
Anyway, Ruth Ann thought he might like a robot camp. And he did; at least he liked day 1. The kids were given a bunch of Lego blocks and instructions about how to build a robot out of them and how then to connect the robot via USB port to a computer, which they would then use to give the robot instructions. Pretty cool. The first day apparently went well. The teacher said Feleke handled the project with ease, and that he got along well with the other kids. He actually volunteered to help some of the younger kids complete their projects, which they appreciated. Feleke had to miss swimming for camp today, but you can't do everything.
***
Mondays are always busy at our house, but this one has been especially crazy. In addition to robot camp with Feleke, Marcy Claire had swimming at 9:45, then Caroline at 10:30. In the middle of that, Thomas had a doctor's appointment to deal with this foot. (He has large splinter that in his ankle that has caused an infection, which we are fighting with antibiotics, trying to avoid the option of surgical removal. No fun.) Then Thomas had basketball practice in the afternoon (his coach wanted him there to be with the team, even if his injury prevented him from going full speed), and Feleke saw yet another doctor, this time a hand specialist. Feleke's left hand suffered severe tendon damage in a botched attempt at chemotherapy in Ethiopia. The hand doctor says that physical therapy will help some. We will see. This is another doctor who has generously donated his time. At some point, though, we need to get this child some health insurance.
***
At dinner tonight Feleke told a funny story about his sister Bayush and a bee. At least he thought it was funny. In fact, he literally started the story by saying "that reminds me of a funny story about Bayush getting stung by a bee." This is how I think the story goes. (Thanks to Caroline for helping to translate. My kids are sometimes better able to understand Feleke's English than I can.)
Feleke's family are farmers. They raise all sorts of animals, including honey bees. Years ago, they apparently kept the beehive on the ground next to their house, but that became a problem when coyotes started coming into the compound to eat the honey. (Who knew coyotes like honey?) Because of the encroaching coyotes, Biru and family moved the beehive into the big tree that grows in the center of the compound.
Their method of getting honey from the tree, according to Feleke, is roughly as follows: Feleke's father or one of his brothers will climb up into the tree at night, when the bees are mostly sleeping. The climber takes with him a flower of some sort, a blossom that is known to be enticing to honeybees. He then somehow uses this flower to lure the queen bee away from the hive. (This sounds incredible to me. I mean, isn't she sleeping too? And how do the honey harvesters wake only the queen and not the army of drones? And how does waving a flower around produce enough of a scent to bring her out of her warm nest? I will need a demonstration of this when we get there.) Anyway, when the queen bee leaves the hive on her futile flower-chasing odyssey, the other bees follow, leaving team Biru just enough time to get some honey. Feleke reports that, when this works, they take most but not all of the honey. Some has to be left for the bees, so they will make more.
One night they followed this standard procedure, and they believed that all of the bees were away from the hive. At this point sister Bayush decides to climb the tree to try her hand at getting some honey. Unfortunately, one lone soldier bee had stayed behind. Maybe to guard the nest. Maybe because he was too lazy to follow the queen. Maybe because he sensed something was afoot, what with all the honey theft that had been happening since they moved to the big tree. Anyway, there he was. And when Bayush poked her head over the nest, the bee up and stung her on the lip. Feleke said Bayush did a lot of screaming and dancing around, and her lip swelled up very large. He said, "if I had camera, I would take a picture. Very, very funny." The swelling obviously went down and she was later fine, which is why he can laugh about it now. He dearly loves his sister. But comedy is comedy.
I told him that something similar had happened to me once, when I was jogging on a country road. A bee stung me on my upper lip, which swelled to the size of a small fruit. Less than an hour later, I had to teach federal income taxation to 120 law students. The students were just as amused as Feleke was about his sister's situation. I reported that it's not as funny if you're the stingee.
But this makes me think. I've always been somewhat allergic to bees. Maybe I should ask my doctor if I need to take an EpiPen to Dafe Jema. Maybe one for me and a bunch for Bayush, just in case.
Here is a picture of the honey tree. (Thanks to Steven Weinberg for the picture.) Feleke says the wood at the bottom is used to make repairs to the house.
