Swept, shovelled, cleaned and cleared. The trenches are ready for the rainy Turkish winter, and we walked away from the acropolis for the last time. It was a bittersweet moment, filled with and odd mixture of “job well done, lad,” and “OMYGAWD NO STOP I NEED MORE TIME THERE IS STILL SO MUCH TO DO NO STOP WAIT AAAAAAAAH!!!!!”
Or something along those lines.
One of the things that anybody who has ever put a large amount of effort into any sort of large project (term paper, house remodeling, thanksgiving dinner, etc) knows that it is never truly finished. Even if you call it done, there is always something-that you wanted to add, that you would have done differently, and so on. It’s much the same with an excavation. While I have bounced from one trench to another, some of my peers have been in the same small square of dirt for weeks, and have put in upwards of 100 hours of work in that single area. If that doesn’t count as a large project, I don’t know what does. And yet we all walked away today, most of us forever. It was a little emotional, actually. I’m sniffly just thinking about it.
Believe it or not, the experience of leaving today speaks to a larger experience of being in Turkey itself. The trenches physically show both the hard work we have put in and how far we have come. 5 weeks ago, I wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference between bone and pottery by licking it, but I sure can now (both stick to your tongue, neither taste like chicken). I also wouldn’t have believed that we would pull together as an effective team, and be able to do so much because of it. When we cleared out the tools for the last time today, we were collectively leaving something that we all invested ourselves in- not too many tears, but a fair amount of blood and a hell of a lot of sweat. The trenches show that (no, not the bodily fluids. Those evaporate). But leaving them makes me want to come back, and try and finish what I started. Whether that’s possible is another conversation entirely.
However, if any of you lovely people ever get to Turkey, know that it will take you in. You’ll think you aren’t being affected, and then BAM, you’re wearing Turkish pants and are no longer phased by ineffective plumbing. It sneaks up on you. But throwing yourself in is a good thing, because if you’re lucky, you’ll do something that yields the same bittersweet feeling we all had today. A feeling of knowing that you have worked really hard, and that you’re really proud of it. And having that feeling is pretty great.
Almost as great as Turkish pants. See you next time.