When I was little I would check the mail everyday with the hopes of finding a yellow-trimmed, plastic-wrapped magazine. When our National Geographic made its way to our house every month I would pore through the pages, feeling a little self-important because look how smart I am, I am the only ten year old who has ever loved this magazine. My favorite articles were always those that had to do with archaeology, whether it had to do with finds from the Aztec empire or the search for Cleopatra’s tomb. I never really thought about why I liked them, why it was archaeology specifically that caught my eye and held it. Maybe it was the fact that there were still mysteries from the past—that just because every inch of the world is charted doesn’t mean there isn’t more to discover. It pulled at that child-like desire to explore and sail oceans and run to the ends of the earth. But I never really knew what it meant to be an archaeologist. I never thought of the day-to-day routines: the heat, the dirt, the endless picking and shoveling. I had a romantic vision of archeology that I never questioned, up until I arrived in Gazipasa. The reality? Archaeology really is just as intellectually stimulating as I had hoped. Maybe not as dramatic— I did not, for example, find Alexander the Great’s lost grave (sorry, Dad)—but the mystery is still there. In the final days of work we were excavating a room which turned out to be quite complex. We found two staircases, a floor which drops off for no apparent reason, two bedrock features and more pottery than we had found in any other trench thus far. We found so many pieces of a puzzle in those last few days, but we didn’t have time to finish. Somehow all of these clues fit, we just don’t know how. Following those logic chains—like the fact that they built a permanent staircase means that the second story held a very important purpose—is a valuable skill that can be applied to many things outside of archaeology. You really do feel like a detective solving a two thousand-year-old mystery.
My advice for those thinking about going on this trip would be to understand that this is really hard work. This program is not for the faint of heart. You will be covered in more dirt than you thought humanly possible and you will lose perspective on what the word “clean” actually means. But it has been one of the most rewarding experiences of my life. We’re doing real archaeology, after all. We are uncovering artifacts and learning about people who had lives and families and probably dreamt about exploring the world. You will learn how to articulate walls, use a pick the right way and document your finds. You will learn that Turkish people love giving you free çay and that swimming in the Mediterranean after a day at work feels like bliss. You will learn how to live in a room with six girls and negotiate six showers when you’re all covered in filth. I laughed harder than I thought possible and worked physically harder than I ever have on this trip and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Archaeology is not the romantic ideal that I imagined while flipping through glossy magazine pages. It’s hard and sometimes it feels like death, but the most rewarding experiences come from hard work. Even if I never do archaeology again, this trip was worth it. I know my ten-year-old self would be proud.
