As our first week in Antiochia drew to a close, I felt most the exhaustion of a week of labour in the sun. I had considered myself to be in decent, though certainly not great, shape, but I felt quite humbled by the experience. I was only able to make it through because of the leeway for breaks that my unit mates allowed, because of the çay breaks, and of course the wonderful food waiting for us before and after our shifts at the dig house. This was all a long winded way to say that I made it through the week because of community, the people around me. I will say this stands in contrast to life in the US where we are much more individualized. This realization has been very important in providing some context for Antiochia as a whole and the home on the hill that we are excavating specifically. Feeling the embrace of community helped me understand more life in the ancient city. Centered on a fountain, with a pool and baths nearby, the people of ancient Antiochia understood that life alone was untenable and only together could they thrive. Similarly for the house we are excavating; while times were good, a single rich family could hoard a large home all to themselves, but as the peace and trade of the Roman empire waxed and waned in the region, the people banded together, sharing what was once hoarded. This realization made Antiochia much more of a living city for me than it could have been before. Despite our distance in time and culture, my experience of community here in Gazipaşa bears some relation with the community that came naturally to the residents of the ancient city.
I hesitate to call myself an archaeologist, but I do feel that I’ve come a ways in just the first week working here. While I don’t think that this type of work is necessarily what I want to pursue, I’ve come to a newfound respect for the field and its pursuits. I had underestimated the balancing act of working in the sun, maintaining vigilance over personal biases, and wrangling support or smoothing over conflict within your own team and the other teams working in any given area. I love history and reading about the discoveries of archaeologists, and I had never even considered all that goes into its pursuit, the time and dedication and the degree to which it is an immensely social field. Our cultural depictions of archaeologists seem to leave that part out in favour of exciting booby traps and personal glory. I think then, that what I have learned about archaeology comes back to community and the rejection of atomized hyperindividualism. Archaeology is a labour of love carried out over years and decades, not all at once by intrepid adventurers. Rather it is the story of a burden of care taken up by large groups that know they may not live to see their work come entirely to fruition, with questions remaining beyond their scope. That is where I think the residents of ancient Antiochia and modern Gazipaşa were very very right. We cannot thrive alone, only together with the help of our community and peers.