i'm not an archaeologist, not yet a geologist [part III--week 2]

Week 2 started much like week 1 ended. Then, Tuna came.

Tuna opened a new trench and I was assigned to work with him. It started out rough with the guys being pretty tough, though they didn’t verbally abuse me as much as ignore me. That was because Tuna was Turkish and could understand them and thereby give them a hard time in return.

Tuna is going to the University of Arkansas in August and he had a few visa issues to deal with while he was at Kerkenes. Consequently, soon after getting to the site he actually had to leave again. The day before he left, Scott came and told me that I would be taking over the trench…

Hi. Yeah,I was not expecting that and, I won’t lie, it made me pretty nervous. The thought of having to direct a trench of guys who despised me was not a thrilling one. Additionally, it was nerve-wracking because I was taking on a responsibility for something that I hadn’t signed up to do. What if I screwed everything up? Poor Tuna had to deal with some general unpleasantness from me for a bit. Then, I got over it.

Tuna, in response to my worries, was great. He could sympathize with my frustrations and had had a similar experience with the workers his first year—the only difference was that he knew Turkish and could strike back. He tried to help the best he could and, amazingly, he managed to make the workers recognize, talk, and listen to me. Mostly, for that day-and-a-half before he left, he always deferred the workers’ questions to me—“Tuna, what do we do now” “Ayla will tell you”—and would leave me alone at the trench while he went off to take notes. As a result, the guys got used to interacting with me and when Tuna left they had no problem listening to me. Better yet, they actually talked to me.

I ended up with a pretty great group of guys—Mustafa, Ilhamid, Lokman, Talking Mehmet. They were mostly patient and took their time with me, often helping me improve my Turkish. Soon we even got to a point where we could joke—a serious accomplishment for me and my Turkish skills. Sometimes, though, Ilhamid would start tense conversations about politics, economics, philosophy, and religion and Talking Mehment would make things awkward at least once daily by professing his undying love for me. Usually, though, Mustafa or Lokman would break the ice, the former by doing something ridiculous to impress me and the latter by starting a new conversation.

In the middle of the week, we suddenly hit a huge patch of ceramic and bone. It was a small section horizontally, but it extended vertically about 60cm and into the walls. Additionally, the fragments were so poorly preserved that taking them out was hell on earth. Consequently, it became a remarkably frustrating and uncomfortable task—Lokman and I spent nearly two entire work days sitting in the middle of the trench under a blazing sun and 90-degree weather trying to get pieces out.

Then, it all took a turn for the worse…

One day, Ismail Bey came over to see how things were going in the trench. He came at a particularly heavy time for ceramic and bone. It was close to the end of the day and we were all hot, tired, and dehydrated. He watched as I pulled some pieces out and then he went over to our collections bags, dumped them out, and examined the finds. Suddenly, he started chiding me, telling me that I wasn’t careful enough, that I was taking the pieces out too haphazardly and too quickly. Mind you, he’d been there about ten minutes and knew nothing about the situation.

He left and nothing happened. He chided me again later that night. A few days later he came back and attacked me again, this time over a piece of painted pottery that we’d pulled out…because it was broken…but it was broken before we started taking it out.

I started getting frustrated with his attacks, but on Wednesday a great storm rolled in making excavation impossible. So, I got out of getting yelled at for my poor excavation skills for the day. The replacement, however, was not so great—it was freezing cold [they actually lit the furnace] and I had to spend my day with my hands in cold water washing pottery. If you know anything about my hands and what happens when they are cold, you can imagine this was not a pretty sight. But, it had to be done.

Thursday was our half-day, so luckily I didn’t have to deal with the issue again as we spent part of the day drawing and the afternoon in Sorgun.

Another release from the week's frustrations came in a couple of good walks alone and with Tiffin through the village and surrounding fields...

...purple wheat, ugly little chickens, donkeys hanging out on porches, huddling fat-tailed sheep. Really, how could you not be in a better mood after seeing all that?

sidenote: Here's a fact about fat-tailed sheep [care of Scott]. Apparently, their tails were never that fat, they've been bred to be that large. As a result, they can no longer reproduce on their own. The shepherd has to stand there and hold the tail of the sheep up for mating to take place!

Friday I got out of the chiding too—we took a trip to Mt. Erciyas and Kayseri. Erciyas was beautiful, but unfortunately we weren’t able to hike up.

The poppies and wildflowers were also out in full force, adding a lovely touch to the already pretty pretty environs.

We drove around the mountain and then went on a hunt for lunch. Sepi really wanted Iskender, which I relayed to Osman Bey. So, we went on a search…an unsuccessful search. However, since I had told Osman Bey we wanted Iskender, I was blamed for all the running around…but the fact was, I wanted manti [Kayseri is famous for its very tiny manti]! In the end, we drove all the way back to Kayseri and, after some more roundabout walking, we found a place in Noel’s guidebook that allowed us to get both manti and Iskender. How ‘bout them apples?

After lunch, Tiffin and I went to a carpet place that the group had visited the prior year and Sepi had frequented on other occasions. The guy spoke great English and although he didn’t remember Tiffin, the mention of Sepi brought excited recognition. With Sepi came discussion of another Turkish girl who had worked at Kerkenes, Bike [Bee-kay], who the guy claimed was “my best friend.” Since Tiffin said she new Bike, the guy called her up and made Tiffin talk to her. It was a bizarre experience, but hey, the more connections we had the better!

We didn’t have a lot of time before we had to be back at the van, but the intro schmoozing had to be done. We had our tea and, just as the guy started the carpet show, in walked the rest of the group. Apparently, one of the people at the shop spotted them at the cami and made them come for a visit.

Unfortunately, this renewed the schmoozing as the guy wanted to talk to Sepi, but eventually we got back to business. Long story short, after a few grueling nail-biting hours we all walked out store. I ended up with two kilims—older and well used, but they have a lot of character. I also got them for a good price, less than what I expected at least. Speaking Turkish helped, I reckon. Robert, in turn, hemorrhaged money but ended up with some outstanding pieces. Tiffin also ended up with a good deal on a pair of beautiful rugs—couldn’t take one and leave the other for a stranger [as grandma would say]. It’s like separating twins!

It was getting late. My carpet had to be repaired a bit and they said it would only take 15 minutes. Yeah, 15 minutes of Turkish time a.k.a. an hour. I felt bad for making everyone wait, but it wasn’t so bad as we sat and chatted with the owners for awhile.

At some point, one of the young guys brought Tiffin a rose. When the older man discovered that I didn’t have one he rushed out and picked one for me, too. Then, for Noel, he put together a nice big rosy bouquet. The smell was absolutely delightful!

Scott said later that the young fellow originally wanted to give me a rose, but when he discovered I was unavailable he was just as happy to give one to Tiffin. Oh Turkish men, so swiftly their love flies to another!

It was 7 o’clock by the time we finally started on our way back to Kerkenes…much later than we had originally planned. The sun was going down and the light on Erciyas Dag as we drove away was striking. We made it back to Sorgun around 10 o’clock and stopped at “the best fish place in town,” where they only serve one type of fish…the one they keep in the fountain. Since Tiffin and I don’t care for fish we skipped out on the delight and ordered soup. The grilled fish took awhile and we were done eating by the time it came, but it looked pretty good. By the time we were done it was late, but everyone went home full and happy…even Osman Bey!