Working in the Great Bath has been an interesting experience. By the time I started working in the Caldarium, the contaminated surface layers had already been removed and much of the remaining feet of soil was from the same context. In other words, my mentality towards the context in which I have been digging hasn’t changed much since the context itself hasn’t changed much. It would appear that following an earthquake that collapsed the hypocaust floor, the room was bolstered by new walls and converted into some form of industrial building. Much of the mosaic that once covered the floor remains in situ from its collapse and the rest of the hypocaust was filled in with stones and trash from a local trash heap, as indicated by the presence of a consistent layer of pottery sherds and animal bones. In the center of the room lies a rectangle of large stones, filled in with ash and slag, potentially indicating the presence of a furnace or kiln in this room. So I guess my mentality has changed since I started this work. I’ve developed an understanding for changes in the soil (or lack thereof) that I didn’t understand before and have found the patterns within this seemingly consistent layer.
Now that I prepare to move back to the acropolis after my final day in the Great Bath, I find myself pondering the remaining questions I have about the Caldarium. When was it converted to industry? What was this room actually used for? What happened to the hot bath that this room was named for? Where are the pilae that supported the hypocaust in this room? Why isn’t there a mosaic under the base of the hand basin that sat in this room? Why were the two halves of this room on two different levels?
And as I return to the acropolis, I wonder what new sights I can expect when I return. Which room will I excavate? What has been found so far? What can changes in soil color tell us about the use of these rooms over time? How will troweling feel after a week of pickaxing and shoveling? Was this area a neighborhood or one home converted to apartments and industrial areas? Who lived there and what did they leave behind? Did they prioritize form or function where they lived? What has already been discovered in this room and how will this inform my theories going forward?
After this time in the Great Bath, I have found there are many specialized areas of archaeology that I have no interest in. I have no eye for pottery or soil changes. Working with bones and human remains feels morally icky even in the most ethical cases. Perhaps I will fall in love with paleobotany when our paleobotanists arrive, but I have my doubts. The one area that has caught my attention, however, has been the coins found on site. Unlike a lot of what we find, coins can be dated easier and without expensive equipment. Depending on their wear, they can be easily identified once cleaned and give a precise date to when the coin was minted and where. This can give us crucial information about trade and help us date a layer, by giving us a date from which no earlier could the layer have been formed (unless something mixed layers). This sort of analysis feels more approachable for me than studying pollen samples or expensive radiocarbon dating. I’ve also felt drawn to this area of study because the conservator on site specializes in these coins, and as someone who has an interest in archiving and cataloging, it has been interesting to see how these coins can fit into that larger work.
As I bring this entry to a close I am struck by the amazing people I have been working with throughout these past two weeks. From my fellow students to the local workers to the grad students and professors who I get the chance to work with, I have been able to expand my horizons and see all the different things archaeology has to offer to everyone who works on this site.