| Veli Gülas, Turkey - Biografy | |||
Veli Gülas, Turkey
Veli Gülas is 60 and has been making honey since he was 35. Before that he was a carpenter, making not only furniture, but also hives for the honey producers of the area he lived in, Çamlihemsin, in the Anatolian inland region of Anzer, east of the Black Sea. .
Until 20 years ago, all the families in the area who produced honey used the native Hemsin bee variety with hives made from beech trunks. Then rational bee-keeping began to spread with prefabricated hives inside which it was possible to insert preformed wax frames. The Hemsin bees struggled to adapt to the new hives, and the majority of beekeepers began to use Cypriot bees. Yet the latter failed to adapt to the low temperatures (which can drop to 5 degrees below zero in winter and rarely exceed 20°C in summer) and damp climate of the region (where average humidity is 60% peaking to 80%) and to survive its long winters. The local beekeepers thus either stopped making honey altogether or moved downstream to produce it with a new type of bee.
A further factor contributed to the replacement of the Hemsin bee. With the new type of bee, the beekeepers of Anzer also imported varroa, a disease that is very widespread in the west but was previously unknown in Anatolia. The disease, which is much easier to keep in check in modern hives than in hives hewn out of tree trunks, spelt disaster for the native bees. Veli Gülas, who then owned 40 hives, managed to save only four families, and it took him 15 years to recover. “The most serious problem”, he says, “is that, after the outbreak of varroa, all the Hemsin breeders who had bought the new bees and kept both productions going at the same time were discouraged and stopped rebuilding their swarms of native bees".
Many in the area still produce honey in abundance, but since native bees require much greater care and skill, hardly anyone keeps them any more. The bees make their honeycombs by themselves inside the beech trunks and, when collecting the honey, beekeepers have to be careful not to touch the areas that serve as a ‘winter parlor’ and a nursery for the larvae. This type of hive is closely connected with the choice of bee. Hemsins in fact cannot live in hives with rough edges or sharp corners; here they would break their backs and die. The ability to build hives is also being lost. If it is impossible to find suitable trunks to hew out and cut into cylinders, it is necessary to shape wood into cylinders and join them together as for a small barrel.
Veli Gülas Veli Gülas is the only beekeeper left who can relaunch the production of honey and all the professional skills that go with it. Besides Hemsins, he also breeds Caucasian bees, which would adapt to rational hives, though he prefers to breed them in the traditional ones.
Hemsin bees are large and black and resistant to low temperatures. They also have the capacity to orient themselves in the mists which often characterize this damp area (though they do not go out to collect honey in thick fog). They have longer proboscises than other bees and this helps them suck the nectar from the flowers of the damp forest, which keep their lymph hidden deep down. They can work in a radius of five kilometers against the 800 metros of western bees. Nectar also serves as immediate nourishment for bees. Beekeepers have to be careful not to place hives too far from flowers, otherwise the bees have to consume all the nectar supply in their abdomens on the journey home. With the bees native to the area, the radius can be extended considerably; in this way it is possible for bees to avoid foggy areas and to come home with enough nectar for the home bees to transform into honey.
Observing the bees flying free, beekeepers of the generations prior to Veli Gülas’s discovered that they tend to build their nests high up in trees, where the morning sun arrives earlier and where there is less damp. This is why they always placed their hives on the highest branches of lime trees. They often identified these branches when the trees were still young, trimming them to make them grow into the right shape to support the hive. If it was impossible to find a suitable branch, it was necessary to build an artificial support. The beekeeper then carved his family name on the bark at the base so that everyone would know that the hive up in the branches was his. Today it is still possible to see the engraved names on the trees in the forest, but most of the hives have been abandoned or destroyed by time and neglect. Only those of Veli Gülas remain to protect the area and maintain the tradition. These are impracticable, almost inaccessible areas, but the presence of man and bees means that the forest is conserved better than would otherwise be possible. When the honey is extracted from the honeycombs, for example, it is left to rest in wood huts near the hives in order to stop bears from approaching human settlements (the huts are covered with sharp metal points to stop the bears stealing the honey). Here forest, man and animals live in a delicate equilibrium that deserves to be continually maintained.
Even beekeepers who produce honey using new methods subscribe to the commonly held opinion that traditional honey was better. It is all a question of altitude, hence of flower species. It was the fatigue and risk involved in working the old way that prompted many to opt for the new way, to the detriment of quality. The honey of Anzer is very well known, but when it arrives in shops in the big cities hardly anyone is capable of distinguishing the type produced with Caucasian bees from the other any more
Veli Gülas has soldiered on, continuing to live in the forest. Today his dream is to persuade local families of the area to resume this activity. He has demonstrated with his example how it is possible to earn money and satisfaction in this way. He produces about 800 kilos of honey a year and sells them all thanks to the commercial support of his children, who live in Istanbul. In a not very distant future, they may even return to the mountains to help him carry on the business. .
Gülas wants to multiply the number of his families of bees to be able to give them to other beekeepers who want to undertake the activity. To do this, however, to increase the number of his swarms from 40 to the 300 of his dreams, he would have to stop collecting the honey, leaving it to the bees to develop their families. He would also like to lay a road to be able to go and check the hives without having to fight his way through the thick vegetation of the forest. Finally, he would like to build a few extra huts to store the honey.
Gülas’s greatest merit is his project, based on a firm bond with the environment and a global vision of the connections that exist between human activity and the well-being of men, plants and animals. To make it materialize he needs money.
"When the varroa broke out, all our bees died”, says Gülas. “The whole forest seemed diseased. Here there are many spontaneous fruit trees. Apple trees, pear trees, cherry trees. And since there were no bees left to pollinate them, their fruit yield fell drastically. The forest recovered when the new bees arrived, but if the Caucasian bees disappear, it will fall ill again. In the thick of the forest and at higher altitudes, only Caucasian bees survive".
Veli would also like to teach young people to build hives, another job which demands great skill and patience, since the beech wood has to be left to dry for two years before being used. .
In the Seventies, the inland area of Çamlihemsin to the east of Black Sea was far removed from modern reflections on concepts of quality and ecology. But it was in those years, in this inhospitable area with its wretched climate that Veli Gülas grasped that the conservation of a product, a tradition and an environment depended on him and him alone. For years many saw him as a romantic supporter of a lost (and wrong) cause against progress. But, ultimately, the quality of his honey has won, making him famous throughout the region and allowing him to live decently. So much so that now he stands out as a model of development.