From the Volunteer’s Viewpoint: History by the Bucketful
035
“What brings you here?” is a frequent question of introduction when Tell Beer-Sheva volunteers introduce one another. The answers reveal students of archaeology from various universities coming for field experience, others looking for a new or different experience, Biblical students, or volunteers, like myself, interested in archaeology, this land and its history, or wanting to make a contribution to man’s knowledge of his past. There are not many such opportunities for someone who is “just interested” and “willing to work”. It is a unique experience. What is it like to participate in an archaeological expedition?
The time is 4:30 a.m., the music, coming over a loud speaker at maximum volume, is a mixture of Israeli and John Philip Sousa; the mood—what am I doing—permeates the semi-conscious as you trudge in the dark to rows of sinks to brush teeth. Nourishment is bread and milk or coffee. To the piercing shrill of a whistle, the work groups slowly 036place one foot in front of the other, up the hill until their area is reached. A bucket, trowel, pick, and sundry equipment is placed in your hand. An area supervisor advises you on filling buckets, hauling buckets, and emptying buckets. You remember another word for archaeological expedition is a “dig” and dig you do. This might be a volunteer’s first impression of the process of discovery into a tell.
This artificial hill, called a tell, is a rise in the land that a people build on. Then a destruction; drought, plague, conquest, causes that civilization to cease. In time another group builds on the remains adding height and breadth to the previous cities’ dimensions. The process continues through the ages, adding level upon level. Each stratum holds its unique pottery, coins, religious objects—as keys to its generation’s story of survival and search for meaning.
Another whistle announces breakfast and the downward walk becomes a trot. Hard boiled eggs, cucumbers, tomatoes, yogurt, milk, and bread await the hungry diggers. After the short 45 minute interval the whistle hits its same note and the same group ascends the hill again to its excavation area. The professionals now give instruction in recognizing levels, pottery dating, smoothing balks, and identifying 037finds. “What did you find in your area?” is a common question throughout the day.
The finds seem to make it all worthwhile, and they are numerous. Buckets of pottery may be found in a single day; a new wall, bones, charred logs, cult objects, and home utensils are the most common finds. Everything must be photographed, drawn and recorded for future reference. It is exciting to discover a missing piece in the puzzle of man’s history. A small ostracon (a piece of pottery with writing on it) may give an important message, date, or battle datum that adds to the story of the people who once inhabited your tell.
The big meal of the day is at two, and the now ravenous diggers descend upon it as if it were manna from heaven. This meal contains the meat for the day, vegetables, salads, and drink. One does not always know what the food is, but the nourishment is there. Although there is a juice break at eleven, eight hours of digging, searching and emptying buckets give the phrase “by the sweat of his brow shall he earn his bread” new significance.
The afternoon brings a welcome rest or study time. Since this tell has been designated as an educational dig, half of the camp is taking classes in archaeology and historical geography from outstanding Israeli archaeologists like Professors Aharoni and Rainey of the University of Tel Aviv. Professor Boyd of the University of North Carolina also lectures on Biblical history. Techniques of archaeology, pottery dating, restoration, and the geography of Israel are taught with slides, objects, and years of accumulated expertise.
The oppressive heat, making the mind sluggish and the eyelids heavy, is slightly relieved by a westerly breeze. As the breeze builds, so does one’s spirit. By late afternoon, most volunteers are ready to wash pottery and learn the secrets it can reveal. Piece by piece, each find is cataloged. Those showing promise are sent to the restoration lab for rebuilding. The student feels satisfied when at last, he can identify the correct age, type, burnishing, and culture of his piece.
Evening lectures, usually including slides, are given several nights a week. Whether one is religious or not, the Bible is a textbook that must be constantly referred to in this land and in these lectures. As other excavations are explained, more pieces of Israel’s historical puzzle begin to take their place. (Comparisons and contrasts of tells, Biblical sites, and finds are frequent topics of camp discussions as a result of this field training and lecture method.) Weekend field trips to neighboring tells and other historical sites offer additional insights. Few leg muscles will let you forget climbing the snake path to the top of Masada.
Tell life is not all work. There are moments of humor too. As you descend the hill each day, you see beside the path a headstone with a squash on top. The epitaph reads “In memory of the unknown diggers, 19—”. Tired at the end of a day’s digging, you cannot help but chuckle with each glance.
A yearly tradition on the tell is the annual group picture. At the end of the day, just before dinner, all are assembled. The camera is ready, the group is smiling, and an instant before the click on the count of three, buckets of water are thrown over the entire company. It is not 038“your usual group photo.”
Then there was the find that had “made in Japan” on the bottom. Placed by an unproductive digger, no doubt.
I will never forget my tent mate emptying her wheelbarrow over a hill and going with it. Chagrined, but unhurt, she climbed back with renewed determination to master her job. These camp antics mold many warm friendships as firmly as the mudbrick used for restoration.
At the end of the dig, after the parties and goodbyes, you feel compelled to climb once more that familiar hill and look out upon vast stretches of sand at sunset. You can almost see Sennacherib’s army over the horizon, or a caravan of camels coming along the trade route. A city once stood here bustling with activity. Abraham dug a well. Roman legions marched where you stand. Perhaps you are surprised when a tear rolls down. You will miss this place, and these people, who may not speak the same language or share cultural customs or beliefs, but who can all dig. Somehow, this unites us. As we share common experiences, food and dirt, we lessen gaps in man’s understanding of man and make our small contribution to a long suffering nation.
037
From Nothing
One day there is absolutely nothing, just flat earth and dust. It is fantastic to see a real structure emerge several days later.
Once I was away from the dig for several days sick. When I returned to the excavation site, I found that where there had been a flat area of earth, there was now a set of steps, leading down to a hole. As the weeks went on and work progressed, the “hole” became larger. Finally it became a “Mikvah,” a ceremonial bath, which established the presence of a Jewish community in this area 1600 years ago. Sometimes the earth would be gently moved away and small tiles or tesserae would appear and suddenly there is a mosaic floor.
—Freya Mechanic, a volunteer at the Meiron Excavations in Galilee, 1975.
“What brings you here?” is a frequent question of introduction when Tell Beer-Sheva volunteers introduce one another. The answers reveal students of archaeology from various universities coming for field experience, others looking for a new or different experience, Biblical students, or volunteers, like myself, interested in archaeology, this land and its history, or wanting to make a contribution to man’s knowledge of his past. There are not many such opportunities for someone who is “just interested” and “willing to work”. It is a unique experience. What is it like to participate in an archaeological expedition? The time is 4:30 […]
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