Trip I, Day 1

Things I saw today (ok, technically yesterday, but it's still yesterday in EST) include:

• The world's longest suspension bridge (the Rio-Andirio), footed on gravel because the Gulf of Corinth is separating at 30 mm/year

• The possible burial location of Lord Byron's heart (at Messolonghi).
• A man stop traffic to buy two kilos of grapes from the back of a truck.  The grape seller then returned to his lunch and beer at the nearby taverna.
• Macedonian tomb architecture, hundreds of kilometers from Macedon.
• Shipsheds!!!!  (Like drydock for ancient ships.)

• A beautiful pink sunset while swimming in the Gulf of Cornith at Naufpaktos. 

Rainy day in Athens

The initial glow of Athens and the School has worn off a bit, as we all are settling in to our new lives and routines here.  Once we had our exciting orientations (e.g. Greek temple architecture at the Hephaistion), we had several more that were not quite so exciting and involved a lot less walking around barriers in ancient architecture and more sitting in the library/seminar room at the school.

Standing inside the Hephaistion, which sits on a small hill overlooking the Ancient Agora.  The rounded roof is probably Medieval, from when the temple was used as a church (and helps account for the excellent preservation).

We leave for our first trip on Tuesday morning.  The fall semester of the program involves four trips (about 10-12 days each) around various regions of mainland Greece, with a 5 or 6 day break between each.  These trips, as we've learned, are the heart of the program, and members have been going on them since the beginnings of the School in the late 19th century, when they would travel by horse and by train.  Each of us going is responsible for a 20 minute presentation and handout with bibliography at one of the sites we will visit, with the result that I've spent more time in the library and less time saying "wow, I'm in Greece!" in the last few days.  Bummer, man.

It hasn't quite all been work, though.  Last night, several of us went out to a nice restaurant in the neighborhood of Exarcheia, known as the place where all the students and protesters live.  I'll do a post on the neighborhoods of Athens one of these days (once I know more about them), and I forgot to take my camera, but one of my dinner companions quite aptly described walking through Exarcheia as entering "anarchist's wonderland."  Much of the architecture is quite old and stately, almost Victorian seeming, but it's covered in spectacularly colored graffiti.

My room, now suitably arranged

Around the school, the excitement has included rearranging my room so my feet don't point out the door when I sleep (bad feng shui), doing an Insanity (high interval training) workout on the School's tennis courts, and celebrating Rosh Hashanah.

Rosh Hashanah meal consisting of various round and seedy foods (apples with honey, fake challah, cookies from the bakery down the road, and green beans), prepared by two other members.  Funny that I've never celebrated this high Jewish holiday before.

I may not quite be able to keep up the once-a-week posts while on trips, as the internet situation is a little fuzzy, but I will do my best, because this is where the magic happens.  I'm so excited to eat at little tavernas in teeny towns in the middle of nowhere Greece, to have a beer overlooking the Aegean from Thasos, to see Mount Olympus.  And, um, to go to the ancient sites, of course.

The first few days in Athens

Arrived in Greece on Friday morning after a disappointing flight on Air Canada (what kind of trans-Atlantic flight doesn't have personal entertainment systems these days?), and promptly met another incoming member at baggage claim.  I'm surprised, generally, at how good it feels to be out of Ann Arbor.  After taking the rest of Friday to get unpacked and settled in, I spent the weekend wandering the streets and markets, consumed my first official glasses of frappe, retsina, and Mythos at outdoor cafes, glimpsed the Acropolis, Temple of Olympian Zeus, Hephaistion, Arch of Hadrian, and more, and saw the parade of the evzones guard in front of Parliament, and met more people in the field of Classics than I have in the previous three years combined.

Large parade of guardsmen (with the pompom shoes!) and a military band which we happened to catch on our way to the Acropolis Museum, but only because we got a slow start to the morning and were running half an hour late.

The biggest event, however, was probably our visit to the Acropolis Museum.  I wanted to do something touristy on Sunday to really feel like I was in Athens, and I've wanted to go to the new museum since it opened in 2009.  Having just been to the British Museum in March, where the majority of sculpture from the Parthenon has been since the early 19th century, I was eager to compare the two display types.  (For those unfamiliar with the whole Elgin Marbles controversy... it's a big thing.)  I had heard that the new museum presented a compelling case that the sculptures should be repatriated to Greece, where they could be displayed in sight of the original building.  Being rather of two minds about the ethics on both sides, I was ready to be convinced.

Yet, I found myself... unconvinced, still.  Certainly, in this wonderful new museum with all sorts of marvelous ancient carved stone, the top floor of the building with its white cast impressions of extraordinary sculptural achievement is sadly anticlimactic.  But, I just didn't find the proposed alternative display in Athens to be any better or worse than the way the sculptures are in London.  The Greeks had a chance to really show the argument for context - that the sculpture can only be understood and appreciated in the place it was meant to be, in relation to the building, it had original meaning beyond a work of art, etc - but instead the display is rather similar to the Brits, much more "art historical" (i.e. aesthetic for sake of aesthetics) than "archaeological" (i.e. contextual).

Sculpture from the Parthenon at the new Acropolis Museum in Athens (top, obviously) and the British Museum in London (bottom, somewhat less obviously).

We'll be back to the Acropolis and its museum several more times in the months ahead, and I'm going to continue to evolve in my impressions of the objects and their museum display settings.  But tomorrow, we get to go inside the Hephaistion overlooking the ancient Agora, and that is pretty cool indeed. 

On leaving

Well, hello there, blog!  It's been awhile.  I've decided to attempt to start this thing up again since I'm about to set off for a year in Greece at the American School of Classical Studies in Athens.  I'll be living in a dorm-type environment, and our group of 13 Regular Members will take trips to explore Greek sites, research and make reports, take seminar classes and Modern Greek lessons, and participate in excavations at the site of Corinth.  The American School is a longstanding tradition among Classicists and archaeologists who work in the Greek world, and I have been told by many prior members that it is one of the best years of their lives.

All that isn't to make it easier to leave, though.  In the last week I've moved out of my home of three years - longer than I've lived anywhere since high school - and packed up all my possessions (except the furniture which my subletter is using) and put them in either a storage unit or the trunk of my car.  (Shout out to my champion moving team of Michael, Ryan, and Justin - you guys were rock stars, and I was in too much of a daze to thank you properly.)  I've been anxious about moving out and becoming a vagrant ex-pat for several months now, and the process of putting everything into boxes made it all extremely real.  On one hand, I felt bad about being so attached to things; but on the other hand, as a student of material culture, I of all people understand that things aren't just meaningless objects, but rather markers of identity, lifestyle, personal choices, memories... they have important, real, immediate significance.

The kitchen of my apartment.  These things were the hardest to pack up, because the ability to cook for myself and my friends represents autonomy, recreation and relaxation, taking care of people (and myself), and most of all, delicious things to eat and enjoy.  Oh, and relinquishing my collection of spices!  Penzey's, I'm coming for you when I return. 

Putting all my things into boxes to go into storage for a year felt like putting myself into storage for a year.  The Kate who will come back from Athens will be a different one than the Kate who packed up those boxes last week - she'll have seen and done new things, made tons of new friends, become more itinerant, and have gone to Delphi and Knossos and Vergina.  And she'll be 30.

I intend to blog this process both as a document of my own journey, and as a way to passively stay in touch with family and friends without obnoxiously flooding their inboxes with bcc mass emails.  And all you out there - don't be a stranger.  Find me on skype, or send me emails of your own adventures, big and small.  One of my greatest concerns is losing friendships and connections to people in the States while I'm on another continent.  Only you can allay this fear! 

A little gem

Sometimes, reading articles and researching is its own amusement. Exhibit A:
"They produced no objects of importance, but the graves did yield a certain number of glazed vases, beads and seals"
Edith Porada, in an article from 1960 called "Greek Coin Impressions from Ur"

In rather more recent news, there's a lot of mixed information floating around about the level of looting of museums and archaeological sites in Egypt right now. Zahi says everything is fine; others disagree. The most heartwarming news is the visual image of Egyptians linking arms to form a human chain to protect the Egyptian Museum in Cairo. Time will tell.

In Defense of Archaeology

I'm teaching this semester, and my students have to turn in questions every week based on the reading. It's intended to be a quick assignment but to show me they've done the reading and get them to think about the concepts a little bit. I would call it a marginally successful exercise.

Anyway, one of my students turned in the following today as his questions.
"1. How does knowing who and what a house was for 2500 years ago help in the advancement of civilization? It's not like looking back is going to help. We know a lot more now than they did.
2. Why does all this matter? I feel like the only reason for archaeology is for oohs and aahs at museums and a quick history lesson. I feel that we don't need to know half this stuff."
Then an explanation:
"These questions/comments aren't meant to offend. I just don't understand the importance of it all. Maybe it's because I'm an engineer. Over the whole semester, I've felt this, and this reading was like pouring gas on an inferno. I mean, this stuff is cool and all, but it's like a new pair of shoes: they're cool for about a day, then it's just blah, and in the grand scheme of society, let alone the universe,, it doesn't really matter. The biggest thing I can't stand is "it could be..." I feel that all I've heard this whole semester. I can't stand a subject based mostly on speculation, because the "facts" are always changing. The whole thing is based on opinions & speculation."

Well. Maybe it was because he was so thoughtful and reasonably articulate about it, maybe it's because he's a good student and a nice guy, or maybe it's because he totally struck a nerve, but I was compelled to respond to him via email with the following.

I just wanted to thank you for your thoughts and candor in the questions
you turned in this week.  You raised many important, compelling points and
- believe it or not - I don't disagree with you on most of them, and these
are issues that I have and continue to struggle with.  You are entirely
correct: most of this stuff makes absolutely no difference to anyone except
the 10 people in the world who have decided to care.

I would make a few points in defense of archaeology (which may or may not
change your mind a little bit, and it is more than ok if they don't).
First, of all the humanities, it's the only one which is based specifically
on data, and, moreover, can produce new data to test theories.  Archaeology
in general is moving towards being more "scientific" in methodology (which,
unfortunately, hasn't trickled down to intro level courses yet.  But if you
took something like Intro to Field Archaeology, I think you'd have a much
different experience and impression).  So, while there is a lot of rampant
"It could be" or "possibly" speculation, there actually is a fair amount of
stuff we know now about how people lived in the past than we did 50 years
ago based on new finds and new theoretical models.  The origins of sea
faring in the Mediterranean
(http://www.nytimes.com/2010/02/16/science/16archeo.html) is one really
recent and dramatic example.  The coolest thing about archaeology, I think,
is that unlike other branches of humanities, we're actually interested in
concrete evidence and figuring out questions about what "really" happened.
Sure, some of it is unknown, and perhaps ultimately unknowable, but you
never quite know when a new discovery will be made that resolves a question
for you in a really concrete, solid way.

Your second criticism - why does it matter - is a little bit harder.
Personally, I think the reason why it matters is that the past has shaped
the present in every way possible.  Who we are is dictated by who we were.
Issues such as heritage are really salient to and powerful for people
(think about the Elgin Marbles and NAGPRA issues we discussed in section).
We miss some of this, as Americans - we don't have the sort of deep roots
in a place and continuity of culture that other cultures do.  Some people
make an argument for studying the past based on not wanting to replicate
mistakes and learn from our collective human experience (like, why we need
to remember the Holocaust).  I don't know that I buy that particular one so
much because I don't think we do learn from those experiences in any
substantive way.  For me instead, the amazing thing about the past is often
how similar it is to the way we live now - or how different.  And those
similarities and differences help us not only understand ourselves better,
but also other cultures and groups that we may encounter. For example,
we're trying to build a democracy in a tribal culture in Iraq.  Can the
example of how Solon formed a democracy in a clan-based society help with
this at all?  And what does archaeology tell us about this process that
texts don't?

Like I said, my aim here is not to change your mind - I wouldn't last a
second in an engineering class; my brain just doesn't work that way, and
when you signed up to take this class, you didn't sign a contract to love
the subject.  But I did think your comments were worth reply, and I wanted
you to know that I myself, as well as other people in this field, do think
about these things and are aware of the inherent difficulties."

And I had a nice thoughtful reply from him. I hope he appreciated my thoughts. I sure did his.

This belongs in a museum!

Friends (at least those of you who have me on your RSS feed and so will actually see this).

I have chosen to break radio silence to bring you tidings of great joy. Click here. Go. Don't worry. I'll wait.

...... did you click? Really? Are you sure? Last chance. OK.

OMIGOODNESSSOEXCITINGIT'SLIKEEVERYTHINGILOVEALLINONESINGLETHING squeeeeeeeeeeee!

Right???? I'm practically at a loss for words and am totally squealing with glee. It's everything I adore, everything that I'm passionate about, every reason I started this blog, all rolled into one pile of AWESOME. I don't even care that it will probably not be very good and disappointing on all levels. It EXISTS!

In all (exuberant) seriousness, the exhibit does raise some really interesting issues concerning the confluence of pop culture and academic science. I'm really interested to see how the curators juxtapose "real" objects with movie props. From the photo slide show, it looks like they picked archaeological objects that are rather similar to some key props from the movies. Will that have the effect of undermining the authenticity of the "real" objects, or make it more powerful? How will they tell the story of scientific archaeology through a leitmotif that bears no resemblance to it in any substantive way? (Except perhaps the common headgear, which is a beautiful example of life coming to imitate the art.)

Also of interest here are the primary partners and sponsors: National Geographic Society, Lucasfilms, and the Penn Museum (a highly credible institution). I brought this very topic up in my Museum Studies seminar this week, and someone wondered who initiated this exhibition concept and why. I immediately, knee-jerk reacted that it must be Lucasfilms (which has also done Star Wars exhibits) and they must be expecting a fair amount of revenue to be generated. But, upon further contemplation I think it's more than that. Indiana Jones has been a gateway for many people to understand what archaeology is and what it does (well...sort of). A museum show is conceivably the perfect forum for Indy and science to be put side by side, so that one may inform the other. The trick, however, will be doing it well. And doing it well will be ever so much more difficult than doing it poorly. But the criteria for success of this exhibit should be to clarify the

Press release-type information is here, as well as a promotional video, for those so inclined. It's pretty interesting stuff. (A nice touch is the "This belongs in a museum!!!" "So do you!" exchange from Last Crusade.)

So, Montreal? Next summer? Anyone? (I will note that Ann Arbor to Montreal is an 11 hour drive, which is only an hour and a half more than some people I know have been willing to drive in order to go to a museum for the weekend.)