AC5 closed AC4 closed
Alas, the time has come for the end of our heroes’, The Filthy Five’s, epic journey at Antiochia ad Cragum. As the beautiful and sparkling nymphs weep along the ancient coastline and its ever-raging waves of white, singing their laments for our heroes who have uncovered and learned so much in the last month but have unfortunately reached the end the their quest, we thank all of those individuals who have made this month the most pleasant and memorable that it could be. Not only have the many bus rides to ancient sites and back been character builders, but they have also allowed us to see history up close and personal with many different yet equally appreciated viewpoints. We, as a whole group, have come to answer many of the questions we had set out at the beginning of the year to answer. Yet, like most stories of old, there are rarely happy endings. Of course, we were pleased with what we accomplished, but many of our questions persist, and our hard work this year has uncovered an enormous amount of new questions. As we make our way home and depart from this hot, academic haven, we must keep in mind why we did what we did and how we changed the lives of those around us this past month. What did I learn about Archaeology? Can I use it in my future? Will I return? Why should I return? Why did I go to Turkey to learn about local Roman culture and provincial capitals in Anatolia? The Muses grow silent as we continue to contemplate the reasoning and potency behind our work this past month. Thus, I shall continue and end the adventures of The Filthy Five; a team of hardworking individuals who refused to complain, who refused to cease asking questions, and who refused to let their work ethic slack during the hottest of days when Helios was stirring with rage. With the might of Herakles and the grace of Apollo, they not only accomplished their goals this season but also encountered and conquered the new and complex structures that required and deserved a great deal of contemplation in order to fully understand what each building was in antiquity. O Muses spin your tale… The Filthy Five’s time in AC5 had come to an end, and each member was left with bitter sweetness; they cleared the structure of fill and closed it successfully with the swift articulation of a trowel and the alacritous taking of pictures and elevations, yet they lacked the fulfillment of truth. They felt lost because they still lacked an understanding of what purpose the building served despite the days of work put into finding an answer. The amphora sherds indicated that some sort of storage took place in the building, and that a raging fire had brought an end to the pots’ earthly lives. There is only one doorway into the massive structure, so maybe the conjoined building might give them some clues to why AC5 is the way it is. Just west of AC5 lies the structure known as AC4, and it is a structure of sheer bafflement. As far as the far-seeing eyes of Apollo can see, he cannot hope to see the complexities of AC4. Our heroes approached the southern half of AC4 with bewilderment and nervousness in their eyes. Now had come the time to take on a structure of impervious architectural complexity. They had proven their worth to the Gods and to Howe with their work in the East, but now a new mountain had risen to overpower them. AC4 glared at the heroes with its disheveled floors, its staircases to nowhere and everywhere, and its sloping slabs of bedrock. The Filthy Five were afraid, moreso their leader Kirbus, for he had not encountered an architectural beast with so much uncertainty in its being. Kirbus stood in contemplative silence with his team of heroes as they excavated effortlessly downwards. Using picks the size of Poseidon’s three-pronged trident and shovels as sharp as the thunderbolts of Zeus, The Filthy Five discovered a stone staircase along the Northeast corner of their trench. In antiquity, the typical way of traversing up a floor was by wooden ladder, but AC4 contained a stone staircase, indicating that the upstairs had to be an important place. Furthermore, the heroes had begun collecting an innumerable amount of floor tiles from the wall-fall fill. The tiles were the size of small boars, yet Ellie the Beast and Mara the Ferocious kept themselves planted and heaved them into organized piles across Acropolis. Ben the Stalwart commanded the pick and shovel with utmost courage and exactitude, and he heaved off quantities of soil as large as Saharan sand dunes down the mountainside. Joseph the Keen wielded the pick and trowel in hand, and his stamina was unparalleled, for his arms tired only when his questions had ceased (which was never). Kirbus stood in amazement as his team uncovered the stairway and a floor along the eastern wall. Unlike the floor of AC5, the floor of AC4 lacked congruity. Kirbus struggled to define the limits of this foreign floor, for it dropped suddenly halfway across the trench. There, just west of the sloped floor, was more loose soil that needed to be excavated. Yet, in the end, their work was cut short, for the end-of-day whistle had blown with only five centimeters of soil left on the western floor. It was time to close up for the season. Pictures were taken, measurements were measured, elevations were recorded, and sketches were sketched. The Filthy Five’s job was done, though they felt sadness for their inability to completely finish the job. Our heroes had answers to the machinations of this complex trench, and with the help of Howe they began to formulate scenarios of why the trench is the way it is, but the questions continued to bite at them with the ferocity of Cerberus. Why is there no consistent floor surface? Is there evidence that there was originally an even floor surface? Why would someone alter the structure? What did we find in our trench and how can that help us better understand our structure? Why are the stairs made of stone and not of wood? For what purpose was this room used? What does the future hold for this area? The questions piled up before the heroes, and all felt their weight. As each member goes their separate ways and tells their separate stories, the truth of AC4 will come into fruition, for the limited evidence they uncovered requires serious contemplation from various points of view. Each structure has a story, and to fully understand the story one needs to step back with the material evidence given, and discuss with oneself, one another, and with the written records of many. Kirbus had his hypothesis set in motion through continuous discussion with his teammates, and he was pleased. The month passed as most do when stuff needs doing, too quickly. He was sad that his season in Turkey was over. He was sad that he had to leave good friends. He was sad that he could not answer as many questions as he had hoped to answer. Yet, he looked beyond his petty individual sorrows and was brought to happiness with the thought of his team. The Filthy Five had conquered the Acropolis with blood, sweat, and more sweat. Their feats made the Greeks’ conquering of Troy look like child’s play. Their dedication to, and love of, learning archaeology surpassed that of Aphrodite to Adonis, Zeus to Ganymede, and Meleager to Atalanta combined (minus the catastrophic endings). O Muses, how could Kirbus ever thank his team for their loyalty and commitment to learning the ways of the trowel with such a passion that Kirbus would never forget? His journey this season had come to a close along with those of his companions. Now it was time to review his progress and teachings. He had not only strengthened his old skills, but he had encountered events that forced him to step outside of his world of comfort and experience sheer unknowingness. He was tested, and even though he felt like a failure many times, he knew that the experience had given him insight into the way of the archaeologist and had given him practice in advanced archaeology. Kirbus was pleased, and he was ever so grateful to have ventured on yet another quest to Turkey to learn of people long before him. The Filthy Five had come, The Filthy Five had seen, and The Filthy Five had conquered. The Muses grow silent, and may my tale last throughout the years as long as the Earth is coated in soil, as long as clouds encircle the summer sky, and as long as the Romans remain in the history books.
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