This is Floyd sharing about a horrible experience on Saturday:
As many of you many know, our ministry is involved in a process known as tree farming. As such, whenever I am presented with an opportunity to learn from someone who has been growing trees for a while, I jump at the chance. And that was the case yesterday.
I was introduced to a man who has had his own tree farming business for close to 20 years. He has multiple properties where he grows about eight different types of eucalyptus trees in different environments and soils. So this was a great opportunity to learn from someone with experience and to see how different trees respond to different environments. He was about a two hour drive from where we live so I left early in the morning.
When I finally reached his first farm, I was first stunned at the number of trees this man had and how big they were. They were huge. But they were also relatively young. Most of this batch of trees were less than two years old, yet had grown to the size of a three or four year old tree. This man clearly knew what he was doing. He gave me and a few guys I had brought with me a tour of the property, answering questions, posing questions for us to figure out – basically giving as a clinic on tree growing. He told us about all the things he had learned in his time of growing trees and one particular thing stuck out to me. His form of security.
He grows bees. He has thousands of bees in various man-made hives spread all throughout the tree farm. He uses them to keep people from coming and cutting his trees. If they do – let’s just say it could be a fatal decision. These are African bees – AKA – Killer Bees!!!
He harvests the honey from them but also extracts what he called the “bee venom”, which he says has a compound in it that kills HIV. This was quite interesting and after his presentation, he almost had me convinced that the benefits of the bees to the trees and surrounding vegetation was really worth looking into. At our ministry, the trees are a good distance from the school and so they wouldn’t pose any danger to the kids or staff.
Anyway, we left that area and drove to several other properties, where he continued to teach us and of course, all of these properties had a healthy bee population. We stopped briefly to pick up our teacher’s four year old daughter who wanted to go with him. Then he took us to our last stop – a swamp area where he was growing three different types of tree to see which would do better in that environment. And of course – there were bees.
Now if you know me at all you know that I am a bit of a joker (okay maybe that is an understatement) and such was the case with these guys on this day. We had been laughing up a storm as we journeyed from place to place, telling stories and giving each other a hard time. As we got out of the car he did as we always had and pointed out the bee hives. I then jokingly stated that it should not be a problem for me “because theses bees were not used to ‘white meat’.” Now this gave the whole group a huge laugh and they proceeded into the trees. Here is a picture of that moment.
I had hung back to take the picture and to put on my mud boots, as I hate driving with them on. I put them on and started walking on the same path the other men had taken. As I passed the first hive a bee came right up into my face and I casually moved my hand in its direction. Let me be clear. I did not swat at the bee. I just waived my hand in front of my face. And apparently that was enough because the next thing I knew I was being swarmed and stung. One landed on my right ear and popped me, then another on my arm, then another on my stomach. The buzzing was growing louder and the swarm was growing and I yelled out, “They’re stinging me!!!” The other men yelled out, “RUN!!!” And so we ran – and ran – and ran…
I would run and the bees would follow. I would swat at them clearing them from my neck and face and no matter how fast or far I ran the bees were right with me. There was no water to dive into, no building to hide in; and I was way too far from the car now to make it. I was scared. I felt confident I was going to die. This was it.
As I ran I remembered the many stories of people being attacked and killed by these bees. Whole families and even livestock that had succumb to these aggressive fliers. And that was all going through my mind. This was going to be the way it ended. The bees were going to be the one thing that got me.
Finally after about twenty minutes or so of running, stopping to check, then running, stopping to check; I found some tall bush and ducked down into it. Only the front of my body could fit into it leaving my back exposed to the bees. I could still hear the swarming sound of the bees, though muffled now as the bush protected my ears.
Then suddenly one of the men came up behind me and what he said did not invoke confidence. “Oh my God!” I yelled back to him to tell me what was going on. “The bees have completely covered your back.”
But they weren’t stinging me. Inside my head I wondered why. Then I yelled out, “What do I do?” He said, “Stand up very slowly and walk very slowly.” I questioned him, “Are you serious??? I’m covered with bees and you want me to move???”
“If you don’t stand up and start moving they are all going to sting you at one time and you are going to die. But maybe if you start moving slowly they will float away.” So I did as he said and sure enough, one by one, they floated away back to their hive. I was lucky. No, I wasn’t lucky. I was blessed. God is the only logical explanation for how I survived that attack. Not to mention the fact that I got away with only three stings. Thank you God for your hand of protection. Thank you for my life!!!
As we started back we took the long way around to avoid the hives and to get back to the vehicles. As we did we suddenly heard the screams of a little girl. “Taata!!! Taata!!!”
“Oh God!!!” I yelled out. The man’s daughter!!! She had been left behind in all the commotion and as she yelled “Father!!! Father!!!” in the local language we all cringed in overwhelming fear. Had the bees moved on to here? There was a mad dash to reach her with the worst of fears screaming through our minds as her screams grew louder and louder. Oh the relief we enjoyed when we found her, scared only because everyone had left her. There were no bees to be found. Thank you God for protecting her.
As we journeyed back we all got a good laugh at how much it seemed that these bees enjoyed “white meat.” The man asked me what I thought about his security guards. I told him that “while they are very effective, it is a big problem when the security attacks your visitors.” Everyone laughed and we moved forward back to his office. I left him there and watched him grow smaller and smaller through the rear-view mirror, and the idea of using bees on our property along with him.
As many of you many know, our ministry is involved in a process known as tree farming. As such, whenever I am presented with an opportunity to learn from someone who has been growing trees for a while, I jump at the chance. And that was the case yesterday.
I was introduced to a man who has had his own tree farming business for close to 20 years. He has multiple properties where he grows about eight different types of eucalyptus trees in different environments and soils. So this was a great opportunity to learn from someone with experience and to see how different trees respond to different environments. He was about a two hour drive from where we live so I left early in the morning.
When I finally reached his first farm, I was first stunned at the number of trees this man had and how big they were. They were huge. But they were also relatively young. Most of this batch of trees were less than two years old, yet had grown to the size of a three or four year old tree. This man clearly knew what he was doing. He gave me and a few guys I had brought with me a tour of the property, answering questions, posing questions for us to figure out – basically giving as a clinic on tree growing. He told us about all the things he had learned in his time of growing trees and one particular thing stuck out to me. His form of security.
He grows bees. He has thousands of bees in various man-made hives spread all throughout the tree farm. He uses them to keep people from coming and cutting his trees. If they do – let’s just say it could be a fatal decision. These are African bees – AKA – Killer Bees!!!
He harvests the honey from them but also extracts what he called the “bee venom”, which he says has a compound in it that kills HIV. This was quite interesting and after his presentation, he almost had me convinced that the benefits of the bees to the trees and surrounding vegetation was really worth looking into. At our ministry, the trees are a good distance from the school and so they wouldn’t pose any danger to the kids or staff.
Anyway, we left that area and drove to several other properties, where he continued to teach us and of course, all of these properties had a healthy bee population. We stopped briefly to pick up our teacher’s four year old daughter who wanted to go with him. Then he took us to our last stop – a swamp area where he was growing three different types of tree to see which would do better in that environment. And of course – there were bees.
Now if you know me at all you know that I am a bit of a joker (okay maybe that is an understatement) and such was the case with these guys on this day. We had been laughing up a storm as we journeyed from place to place, telling stories and giving each other a hard time. As we got out of the car he did as we always had and pointed out the bee hives. I then jokingly stated that it should not be a problem for me “because theses bees were not used to ‘white meat’.” Now this gave the whole group a huge laugh and they proceeded into the trees. Here is a picture of that moment.
I had hung back to take the picture and to put on my mud boots, as I hate driving with them on. I put them on and started walking on the same path the other men had taken. As I passed the first hive a bee came right up into my face and I casually moved my hand in its direction. Let me be clear. I did not swat at the bee. I just waived my hand in front of my face. And apparently that was enough because the next thing I knew I was being swarmed and stung. One landed on my right ear and popped me, then another on my arm, then another on my stomach. The buzzing was growing louder and the swarm was growing and I yelled out, “They’re stinging me!!!” The other men yelled out, “RUN!!!” And so we ran – and ran – and ran…
I would run and the bees would follow. I would swat at them clearing them from my neck and face and no matter how fast or far I ran the bees were right with me. There was no water to dive into, no building to hide in; and I was way too far from the car now to make it. I was scared. I felt confident I was going to die. This was it.
As I ran I remembered the many stories of people being attacked and killed by these bees. Whole families and even livestock that had succumb to these aggressive fliers. And that was all going through my mind. This was going to be the way it ended. The bees were going to be the one thing that got me.
Finally after about twenty minutes or so of running, stopping to check, then running, stopping to check; I found some tall bush and ducked down into it. Only the front of my body could fit into it leaving my back exposed to the bees. I could still hear the swarming sound of the bees, though muffled now as the bush protected my ears.
Then suddenly one of the men came up behind me and what he said did not invoke confidence. “Oh my God!” I yelled back to him to tell me what was going on. “The bees have completely covered your back.”
But they weren’t stinging me. Inside my head I wondered why. Then I yelled out, “What do I do?” He said, “Stand up very slowly and walk very slowly.” I questioned him, “Are you serious??? I’m covered with bees and you want me to move???”
“If you don’t stand up and start moving they are all going to sting you at one time and you are going to die. But maybe if you start moving slowly they will float away.” So I did as he said and sure enough, one by one, they floated away back to their hive. I was lucky. No, I wasn’t lucky. I was blessed. God is the only logical explanation for how I survived that attack. Not to mention the fact that I got away with only three stings. Thank you God for your hand of protection. Thank you for my life!!!
As we started back we took the long way around to avoid the hives and to get back to the vehicles. As we did we suddenly heard the screams of a little girl. “Taata!!! Taata!!!”
“Oh God!!!” I yelled out. The man’s daughter!!! She had been left behind in all the commotion and as she yelled “Father!!! Father!!!” in the local language we all cringed in overwhelming fear. Had the bees moved on to here? There was a mad dash to reach her with the worst of fears screaming through our minds as her screams grew louder and louder. Oh the relief we enjoyed when we found her, scared only because everyone had left her. There were no bees to be found. Thank you God for protecting her.
As we journeyed back we all got a good laugh at how much it seemed that these bees enjoyed “white meat.” The man asked me what I thought about his security guards. I told him that “while they are very effective, it is a big problem when the security attacks your visitors.” Everyone laughed and we moved forward back to his office. I left him there and watched him grow smaller and smaller through the rear-view mirror, and the idea of using bees on our property along with him.
Praising God that you and the little girl are both safe! You may want to be more careful about what you say! As my mother, use to say, "You may end up eating your words!" No more jokes about them not liking "white meat"
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