Bee Curry

The rain was drumming against the tin roof so hard I could barely hear myself think. Yet, despite the deafening downpour, it was oddly tranquil. Honestly, that’s quite representative of Kachai. Always some part to fix, some trip to make, some dream to actualize, but when you pause for a moment… peaceful. As I checked to ensure my windows were sealed, I couldn’t help but admire the attention to detail Sir put in when building the house. A sharp rap from outside pulled me back from my wandering thoughts. When I opened the door, I was greeted by… no one. Smiling to myself I closed the door and listened for the muffled giggle outside getting ready to knock again. I flung the door open and Gloria’s momentary surprise turned into delighted laughter. “Come down, you’re going to miss it”, she announced excitedly as she proceeded to hop down the stairs.

The first thing you notice about the kitchen is the lights. The big overhead lamp, but also the flickering flames of the fire, the smaller hand-held lanterns, even the glowing rings of the cigarettes resting in the smiling mouths of the dozen or so people gathered in a circle. With a resounding crack, the enormous ashy brown sphere split open, leaving both halves wobbling on the floor. Inside, white, papery tops covered the thousands of hexagonal slots in which the larvae resided. Quickly, the combs were broken up into smaller pieces, and everyone began separating the creamy larvae from their inedible packaging. Kachai has many delicacies, but none more so valued than bees. The fact they’re only available a few months a year serves to make them even more coveted. This past Sunday, Sir and Ma’am had won the nest in a local lottery, and instead of eating it themselves, they decided to share it with their friends. Not to curry favor, but because they wanted to share their joy with their neighbors. After the metal bowl was filled with bees, they were tossed into a slick wok with spices over the fire.

If there’s one thing people from Kachai love more than bees, it’s soccer. I squeezed in beside everyone else in Gloria’s bedroom, careful to avoid the stuffed animals engaged in discussion, and fixed my attention to the small tv in the middle broadcasting the game. Moments later the tv flickered off, along with the rest of the lights in the house. The smaller lanterns were distributed among everyone as Sir went to check on the generator. Within a few minutes there was a loud cheer as the power came back, simultaneous with an announcement from Ma’am proclaiming that the bees were ready. After a few handfuls I heard a warm voice ask behind me, “How is it, brother?”. Of course, people use the term “brother” or “bro” colloquially, but the way this man said it felt so genuine, I couldn’t help but feel I was part of his family. 

This brief question sums up the people of Kachai. From insisting on paying for snacks at the tea shop, to sharing their favorite spots around the village, I was instantly welcomed into their families. Everything was meant to be shared, because if you couldn’t enjoy it with your family, then what was the point? 

Josh Samuel 

Brown University, United States