It’s called soil.
This week was one of those rather surreal experiences that one has every once and a while- incidentally, said experiences usually coincide with when one chooses to leave the country and go dig in the soil (nor dirt) in the Mediterranean. Days start early and run long, and have thus far involved a lot of sweat and a lot of sunscreen. But the views aren’t bad, and there is something to be said for bonding through challenge.
We’re three days into excavation, and I’ve got dirt stains and calluses to show for it. Days one and two were spent up on the acropolis, clearing away the area to make room for actual excavation. We spent a lot of time hauling rocks over the edge of the cliff and hacking at tree root systems (I had a glorious vendetta against a root system. After 45 minutes with a pick axe, I beat a strategic retreat. Another day, tree root. Another day). Regardless of the hard work, the progress we made was incredible to see. Hopefully trenches will be open by Monday.
On day three I was moved up to a trench on the north side of the temple, where we were able to actually break ground. I took over one corner of the trench, working on articulating something that looks like a wall but isn’t a wall (too thin, too crooked. Bang goes that theory). And there I was feeling all disgruntled about my wall that isn’t a wall, and then I got my first find.
My little corner of the trench contained glass shards. An hour later, it also gave forth a nail- one the size of my pinky finger. Within the first 8 cm of soil (not dirt), which is all discarded anyway due to contamination, my little square had given forth the first finds of the trench. This affirmed for all of us that there is something down there just waiting to be found, something that I will be the first person to touch in hundreds of years. Those little finds catapulted me from being slightly disengaged (no shame, it’s hot here) to completely enthralled and imaginative.
I can honestly say I don’t know what this trench is going to give forth in the next few weeks. I don’t know what the room that I’m helping to excavate was used for, let alone during what era. But I’m capable of answering those questions. And that has been the theme of this week: a dramatic and steeply gained awareness of my own capability. Or in some cases, lack thereof (again. Tree root). But I’m OK with that, because I can look back and say I have learned a lot this week. I know how to set a trench. I know that you can identify pottery by licking it. I know that every turkish plant thirsts for blood, especially the pretty purple ones that look harmless and cute (books and covers, kiddies). And-perhaps most importantly- I know that it’s not called dirt. It’s called soil.
Here’s to three more weeks of capability awareness.