Apprenticing in Archaeology

Last Wednesday I visited a friend at the site of her dig in Tiberias. Anna (we were flatmates this summer), is an archaeologist who specializes in pottery. She has done work from the Hellenic period through to the Ottoman. She's currently digging at a 9th Century Abbasid settlement. It's located about 2.5 km south of the centre of Tiberias. And just next to the Hamat Tverya National Park where a 4thC synagogue has a preserved mosaic floor. (I missed this!)

Tiberias is an OLD town, dating from about the time of Jesus. It was built by Herod's son, another client king of the Roman Empire, hence its name which pays homage to the Roman Emperor Tiberius. The city sits halfway up on the western shore of the Kinneret (aka Lake Tiberias, aka Sea of Galilee). The area is replete with Christian and Jewish holy sites, and with tacky tourist hotels and falafel-shwarma shops. The Israeli Tourism Ministry markets Tiberias as a place for combining a relaxing vacation with visits to historic and holy sites. That's about right because you can swim in the lake (next to which Jesus did much of his work) and visit the hot springs for which the area has always been famous. Everything is all wrapped up together.

south end of Tiberias, looking at the Kinneret

My apprenticeship on the site started just before 8am with a tour of the site, which is a narrow strip of 6m set in about 15m from Hwy 90 (running alongside the lake) for about 200 m.

the site

The site workshop

Much of the site is perplexing the team of archaeologists. They are sure about a few things and totally confounded by  others. Part of what makes it tricky is that it is definitely 9thC but, the Abbasids cleverly reused Roman blocks and, evidently, re-purposed several structures.

A square on the site

All of this has created some discontinuity in the site. In a perfect world, the team would expand the area of the dig and extend the dig for another six months. But, the world is imperfect so the dig will wrap up in about a week.

Since Anna is a pottery specialist and I was her guest on the site, my apprenticeship was focused on pottery.

buckets of shards

I washed pottery to the soundtrack of fighter jets (cruising the Syrian border; that's a subject for another post or not). Sadly, I don't have a picture of me washing, but honest, I did! I was sitting in that empty white chair next to these two guys.

pottery washing station

Here's how you wash pottery:
You get a bucket of clean water and your bucket of pottery shards that have been soaking in water for a few hours or a day. (This is a good thing because your pottery shards have been caked in mud for nigh on a millennium!) And, you get a nail brush. Reach into the bucket of pottery shards and select a shard. Dip it in the bucket of fresh water and scrub. You will likely have 5 or more surfaces to scrub. And you should scrub pretty hard because it's the edges that are critical for the archaeologists to see in order to assess wear patterns and type of earthenware -- all of which goes to provenance. Dip your now cleaner (but really, not sparkly clean) shard in the fresh water to rinse and deposit it on the tray of clean samples. Repeat. Oh, did you get a shard that is disintegrating on scrubbing? That's a bone. Toss. Get another shard. Dip, scrub all surfaces, dip, deposit. Repeat. About an hour of pottery cleaning was enough to make me sure that a full day of it at 40C really wouldn't be much fun: it's back breaking, hand-shrivelling work.

Then it was on to sorting, which we did in the air conditioned trailer; I was grateful to be out of the sun. The outdoor work area has black mesh shade covering it, but it doesn't really protect you from the sun.

Sorting begins by laying cardboard down on a table top and dumping the contents of a bag of washed pottery shards on it.

Getting started

the hunt is on

Anna sorting

The first sort is by obvious features -- kiln bar (used in production), handle, rim, base, glazed, engraved. The shards lacking any of these obvious features are counted by type of earthenware and then disposed of. The shards of interest are then sorted by type of vessel -- jug, juglet (distinguished by placement of handles), lids and bases (distinguished by curvature of rim), cooking pot and pans (distinguished by burnt clay and thickness), and by type of earthenware -- buff, pink, grey, yellow (provenance).

glazed base and plain base

glazed shards

Not everything can be kept so if there are multiple pieces of a particular type, the best sample is selected. The glazed shards are sorted separately and grouped (in a small plastic bag - mini ziploc) if they appear to belong to the same vessel. The glazed shards are particularly helpful for research because glazing was so challenging and certain colours proved difficult to make in different regions due to raw materials available. So, glazed work can provide considerable information about where and who was making the pottery.

Along the way the archaeologist takes copious notes, counting and cataloguing the shards. This is a critical step as it will facilitate writing up the report later without needing to see all the pottery again.
Everything was amazing, but highlights were a double spouted bronze oil lamp, a coin (not sure from when), and the glazed work. All of it is so impressive.

Bronze lamp

Once again I was humbled by the ingenuity of those who toiled with minimal tools. It was an awe-inspiring day.

Fruit of the month: Pomegranate

With the Jewish New Year just a flip of the calendar away, the pomegranate (Hebrew: Rimon) is everywhere: all over the market and hanging from neighbourhood trees.



Pomegranates grace the table at Jewish New Year - Rosh Hashannah - because they symbolize prosperity. In Christianity the pomegranate symbolizes Jesus' suffering and resurrection.




You would have to have been hiding under a rock in North America for the last decade to not know the  pomegranate and, of course, its nutritive value; the fruit has been well marketed as essential to the diet for all the vitamins and antioxidants it includes. Pomegranate martini anyone?

Fortunately, here the focus is on enjoying a yummy seasonal fruit that may grow in your yard. Pomegranates are not fast to prepare; you don't grab one on the way out the door to munch at the bus stop. Peeling a pomegranate and picking the seeds off the internal skin takes some time, although there are better and worse techniques for this. The easiest way (with the least muss and fuss) to consume pomegranate is in juice form. Here, many folks have at home a pomegranate juicer which looks something like a citrus reamer with a top press that can be levered down to squeeze all the goodness out of half a pomegranate.

Pomegranates are in the Myrtales family, not a flowering plant family overflowing with edible fruits. Cousins to the pomegranate include guavas, cloves, allspice, and eucalyptus.

 

Random notes on life in Jerusalem

• Hot water is not necessarily available on demand. If you have a solar panel then you will have hot water on demand about 8 months of the year. Otherwise you had better have patience (or a timer) because it takes about an hour for the boiler to warm the water sufficiently on a cold and cloudy winter day.
• Many households do not have clothes dryers. In the summer this is no problem, you can be sure your clothes will dry within the day inside, faster outside. In the winter, when the rain might be incessant for nearly a week this can be a problem. Plan ahead if you need a particular outfit in your small wardrobe!
• A Haredi man may put his hat in front of his face, or look away, for the duration of the time that you (a female) are in his line of vision - walking by on the street or standing on the bus. 
• Be aware of where you sit on the bus; the last empty seat which is next to a Haredi man might not be a good choice. I've never tried it because I don't want the conflict but there have been serious conflicts in Israel over segregated buses - men in the front, women in the back. Women don't sit next to religious men.
• The cost of consumer goods varies by neighbourhood. For example, 500mL bottle of water costs NIS 5 in most of West Jerusalem and NIS 3 in East Jerusalem. A meal of hummus also costs more on the west side.
• Sidewalks are not just for pedestrians and cats and dogs. They are also for riding bikes, erecting sukkot (the shelters for the upcoming holiday), and parking cars.

  

  Metal bars on sidewalk so that cars parking across the street don't back over the sidewalk

  
  
  
  
  
  

  

  Pedestrian funnel

  
  

  

  Um?

  
  

  

  Weave!

  
  
  
  
  Should you find yourself with a free, relatively smooth patch of sidewalk be ready to duck, bob, and weave at any moment -- the plants overhanging could knock you out. The City repaved considerable tarmac this summer, maybe they ran out of money for trimming back overgrowth on sidewalks? Maybe it's like this every year? Maybe there is no sidewalk municipal liability here?
  

  

  Time to trim your hedge!

  
  

  

  Duck!

  
  

  

  Jungle Jerusalem

  
  
• If you plan to swim at the community pool confirm the day and hour you've chosen are gender appropriate. Pools have male, female, and mixed sessions. So do yoga and pilates classes.
• Shopping at the drugstore is never fast and it's the kind of experience that belongs in a comedy sketch. Nothing is organized in a way that anyone can find. Each time I go to the SuperPharm there is at least one item I cannot find. Asking for help results in a clerk dragging me around the store in circles and ultimately telling me they don't know where the item I asked for is. I thought this was an experience unique to nonHebrew speakers - it is not.
• Drinking coffee is a daily (or multiple times daily) social activity here. The standard order is a cafe hafooch (or hafuch?) which is meant to be a cap, but usually comes out as a latte. At home many people make Turkish coffee (yum cardamon) by pouring boiling water on the grains and letting it settle. Admittedly, this is better than instant coffee, but it isn't as good as a true boiled Turkish coffee. In sum, the coffee isn't all that good, but no matter, social life revolves around it.
• Hummus is an institution in Israel. Seriously. People argue over where to go for hummus because they disagree on which place makes it best. To appreciate this you need to know that people are not arguing over that small plastic container of yellow-beige goo that you bought at Whole Paycheque and intend to slather on your rice crackers. They are arguing over bowls of warm chickpeas pureed with tahina, lemon, and olive oil, topped with more chickpeas, or "fool" (fava beans - awesome), fried mushrooms, or ground beef (not so much) and served with fresh and warm pita.

  

  A giant lunch: pita, pickles and onions, small hummus and kubba soup

  Critical is the side dish of pickles and onions - and here, I have to tell you - eat the raw onions. I never eat raw onions, but with the hummus, well, just do it. And, a Coke or a beer on the side to wash it all down. Yum! My favourite place to eat hummus is in a cave of a restaurant in the Old City on Fabric Street about halfway to Damascus Gate from the Western Wall. Food made by Arabs, patronized by everyone. On certain days they serve Makloubah (Arabic for upside down) a dish of rice, potatoes, eggplant, onions, nuts and sometimes meat. Also amazing.
• Olive Oil. Yum! The stuff you buy at the supermarket has a taste and 500mL of it sells for $7.
• Falafel - Chickpeas, again! This time ground up into little balls, deep fried, stuck into a laffah (shaped like a tortilla, but spongy: so yummy) or a pita (makes a smaller size sandwich that has a higher bread to filling ratio), surrounded by salads -- cucumber, tomato, cabbage, raw onions, slathered with tahina and topped with soggy, greasy fries if you want.
• Business opportunity -- There is no Mexican food to be found. Devastating. Some days you just want a black bean instead of a garbanzo bean.
• Sabih - This is the Middle Eastern answer to the BLT. Built like a falafel on laffah or pita, filled with salads, fried eggplant and slices of boiled egg topped with tahina, and fries if you want. Surprisingly delightful. 
• Fruit - you know how I feel about the fruit here - Amazing!
• Carob juice - a seasonal treat to be found in the Old City. Looks like flat cola, tastes like sweet carob. Sold in 250mL cups, you really only need about a tablespoon for the experience.
• Building - house or apartment - renovations seem to involve endless jackhammering and I have not figured out why. 
• Music. Israel is an amazing place for music. The Hebrew U includes a Music Academy of excellent quality. I've seen  several spectacular student performances. The Jerusalem Theatre has a full calendar - almost nightly - of concerts (usually classical) including a weekly free concert that is very good. The live jazz scene is fantastic, especially in Tel Aviv. And, other genres and fusions are well represented at the Yellow Submarine in Jerusalem. Frequently you don't need to pay cover; sometimes a hat gets passed around.
• Wine. You may be surprised to learn that Israel has some excellent wine. My favourite is Pelter after a tour of their facilities and a great wine tasting last winter. I particularly love their Cabernet Franc, but my budget doesn't!
  

  

  Pelter cork as gnu

  And, they have amazing goat's cheese. Alas, even wine is political. Pelter is grown in the Golan which is contested territory. 
• In an earlier post I said that Gaza doesn't have many sites to lure an average tourist. That's not quite accurate. Gaza has many interesting historic sites and fantastic Byzantine mosaics.  An archaeologist is quoted in a Ha'aretz story saying Gaza 'was once a "very rich oasis, with gardens, cities and you have settlements, dwellings, fortresses, cities everywhere, everywhere."' This makes sense - Gaza is along the coastal route from Egypt to the Levant. But, the politics of Gaza mean that archaeological preservation and exhibition isn't a priority right now. 
• When making tea, after the water boils wait. Wait for the mineral deposits to settle before you pour the water. And, don't drink to the bottom of your cup, there are more deposits there. You'll know you've reached them when you get that sandy feeling in your mouth. 

Queuing like a Sabra

As I've mentioned before, riding public transit in Jerusalem is a bit of a sport characterized by buses that are often not on schedule, gridlocked traffic, standing room only, and crazy filter-like queues. Importantly, this style of queuing is not restricted to public transit, it's just how Israelis - Sabras those born here - queue. When it really matters that things happen in a more controlled manner, there are systems in place -- you take a number (from one of those red plastic things on the wall that are shaped like a 9), you write your name on a list (although in my experience from getting a RavKav the number and name systems quickly break down), or you are funnelled through metal rails (they have these at the central bus station, but the filter queue emerges when you pass through the terminal to the bus garage). It's just how you queue in Israel, more on why that might be later.

Here's a graphic of the difference in queuing styles:

I know, you are thinking that the shape of the Israeli queue makes no sense. Here, I would suggest that you are thinking like the rest of the NHL in the very early 1980s. The Edmonton Oilers, and No.99 specifically, would tell you that you are neglecting an important zone of play -- behind the net. Why can't you queue from in front of the bus?

Jerusalem has an LRT that started operating in early 2012. The LRT runs from Mt. Herzl in the west through the City Centre, down Jafo Rd, past the City Hall, the Old City, up Road No.1 and deep into East Jerusalem (yes, very curious - an LRT that connects a contested city). As with the installation of all LRTs, numerous bus routes were taken away, thus the LRT has a huge ridership. And, as most riders of light rail know it's no delight to try to get off the train when a mob of people trying to get on crowds the door. Sabra-style queuing results in mobs at the train doors all the time and it's pretty unpleasant.

So, imagine my surprise when at the train station at Ammunition Hill in May, I noticed that the LRT Authority had mounted a campaign to get Israelis to queue differently, to queue like I know how to queue. Here's a poster that can be found at each station showing how if you are boarding you need to stand aside and wait for passengers to exit the train.

How to queue

And, helpfully (heehee), lines have been painted at each train stop to show you where to stand to effect this efficient queuing style.

No, the other arrow

I have to admit to laughing out loud at this campaign. Breaking Sabra queuing styles is going to take more than a passive campaign - Israelis approach rules as advisory. Sorta like "thanks for your suggestion, but I'm going to do it my way." It's that attitude that is credited with the strength and innovative success of the Start Up Nation. Every Israeli has an opinion and no one is going to be played as the fool. Only fools follow rules and get caught out on getting what they need because they did as they were told.

Where does this attitude come from? Well, it seems to be partly attributed to the history of the Jewish people, and partly to how it was in the early days in Israel. Immigrants flooding into pre-state or nascent Israel had hard lives -- there was little money and limited food. People recognized that they would have to look after themselves and acted accordingly. The culture that emerged created the Sabra (a prickly pear) -- an Israeli-born Jew -- who is prickly on the outside, but soft and sweet on the inside. Indeed, Israelis have told me that they are "obnoxious" -- a not untrue statement. Equally, you are unlikely to find a group of people who, once they've had a conversation with you, will be so warm and welcoming - inviting you to a meal at their home, helping you manage any number of quotidian activities, and generally looking out for you.

That's the thing about Sabra style-queuing, it may seem obnoxious, but it's almost always obvious that people's intention is not to cut you off, but rather to make sure they get their place. It took me a while to understand that having grown up in a place where someone acting like a Sabra, flouting the rules, would quickly be labelled as more than obnoxious.

Judah the Lion and his cousins

Those of you well acquainted with the Bible will know that the Lion is the symbol of Judah (4th son of Jacob the Israelite) -- see Genesis and Revelations. Or, you may know the lion appears frequently in Jewish art. At one point (like so many other species!) lions did live in the Middle East - actually their range extended out of Africa north to Europe and east to India. They were extinguished from Palestine before the 1400s (according to, yes, Wikipedia!).

In 1950, the Israeli part of Jerusalem adopted as its official symbol the lion to represent and remind Jewish people of their heritage. Here's the municipal "logo" - the Hebrew letters read Yerushalayim - Jerusalem.

 

You can find the lion symbol on anything the City does (of course) including trail markers, and at the centre of a water fountain at Bloomfield Park that was a gift from the German people (and that I can't find my photo of).
 
When it comes to felines in the flesh, though, about all Jerusalem can offer these days is cats. Lots and lots of cats. I've been told that there are so many cats in Jerusalem because during the Mandate, the Brits brought them in to manage an exploding rat population. This could be an urban myth, but there really are hoards of cats here.

At the university they can be found everywhere in the gardens (sorta like rabbits used to be at UVic), and if you dare to eat outside (which obviously you do frequently because of the climate), you have to be on guard for your meal or at least tolerate a good amount of attention from the four-legged furry lunch patrol. It's as if they are constantly asking, "Hey, you gonna finish that?" They also come inside the uni and cruise the coffee shop hoping for treats and generally looking to be adopted. Most folks who have cats have more than two. They've adopted them off the street and had them dewormed and spayed/neutered (typically evidenced by a clipped ear or a collar). It's a tough life for cats that don't get adopted -- competition is stiff for food and even if you've staked out good territory you could get caught in a drought. For example, if you are cat that lives at the university, you will probably do well enough from mid-October until late July; August and September are lean months when few people are on campus.  And, if you don't have a collar or a clipped ear, you are subject to the semi-annual feline roundup that the city conducts.

Shabbat afternoon...when's dinner?

A cat I lived with - Shelag (Snow)

 

Coffee shop busker

Neighbourhood binner

In the plant pot

Breakfast?

Shabbat dinner

Lately I've been reflecting on my favourite things about life in Israel. Near the top of my list is Shabbat dinner.

I grew up in a pretty areligious home. We celebrated Christmas and Easter, but outside of weddings and funerals I can count on one hand the number of times I've been to church with my parents. Although we didn't go to church and I never went to Sunday school, we did always have family Sunday night dinners. My maternal grandparents joined us occasionally; my paternal grandparents came to dinner (based around a roast of beef) nearly ever Sunday night in the winter when they were in residence (i.e. not on vacay). In the summer we were more likely to go to them at the cottage.

As an adult, I've been known to head to mom and dad's for a well-balanced (and well cooked! my parents are great cooks) sustaining meal on Sunday nights.  But, this is Sunday night; the night before the work week starts again. In Israel, the family meal is Friday night after sundown whether you are secular or religious. The work week starts on Sunday, so Friday night is the middle night of your weekend (Saturday night for Westerners). After dinner, if you are secular or traditional, you might head out on the town with your friends, meeting them at the bar by 11pm or so. If you are conservative or more religious, you probably hit the couch and chat or read before heading to bed. You don't do dishes until Saturday after three stars are seen.

I am hard pressed to think of anyone in my acquaintance in North America who would consider going home for dinner in the middle of the weekend. Partly, this is because many of us live miles away from our parents. Thus, going home for dinner is often part of a weekend trip that is made a few times a year. In Israel (a notably smaller country!) everyone goes home for Shabbat dinner as often as possible. It's a standing date on the schedule and you work your social life around it.  An obvious reason for this is proximity, but I'm not sure that's the only reason.

Anyway, why do I like shabbat dinner? Two reasons. First, because whether it's secular or religious (I've been to secular, traditional, conservative, and modern orthodox dinners), Shabbat dinner is characterized by some degree of ceremony. The ceremony may be seen in the type of food and courses served (often: salads, soup, fish, meat and vegetables, and then parve (kosher non dairy) dessert (not my favourite!)).  Or it may be in the practice of kiddush over wine, and the blessing over the challah. There is always more food than the table could possibly finish (it will be eaten on Shabbat (all day Saturday) when Jews are not meant to cook). Shabbat doesn't just mark the end of the week, it reinforces a cultural (or cultural-religious) identity.

Second, I like the openness of discussion around the table. Not every table does this, but the best Shabbat dinners include a lively discussion on politics or ethics or football. Everyone has an opinion and shares it; disagreement is permitted and voices are usually raised! I'm not sure there are never hard feelings, but there does seem to be an ability to agree to disagree. Sitting at the Shabbat table I have learned much about Jewishness and Israeli society.

Fruits of the month

So last month I missed a fruit posting, but not because there isn't any fruit! If you like fruit, Israel is an amazing place to be in the summer.

Here's a small plate of fruit:

Some fruit in August in Jerusalem

Mangoes! Grapes! Lychees! Figs! Prickly Pears (aka cactus pears) (not pictured)!

Multiple varieties of many fruits are available at the Mahane Yehuda (the shuk). And some are available on your neighbourhood tree (especially figs).

Here's what Mahane Yehuda looks like on a Friday afternoon in the summer -- all the locals plus busloads of tourists:

Marketgoers!

I had some Maya Mangoes last week that were sensational. This week's, not Maya, mangoes paled in comparison. Seriously, I might be becoming a mango snob. 

Off of this week's fruit plate I think the lychee might be the most interesting fruit (it's definitely the most expensive!). If you've only ever eaten canned lychees, you won't recognize a fresh lychee. It's a reddish spiky acorn sized fruit.

Lychee half peeled

If you peel a fresh lychee you'll see the flesh looks like flower petals grown over the pit.This is an aril, an outgrowth of the attachment point of the seed -- like the flesh of a pomegranate or mangosteen -- and is, in plant propagation strategies, intended to encourage some critter to eat it so as to ensure seed dispersal.

Peeled lychee - ready to eat

Eating a lychee is a delicate sweet, perfume-y experience.  There's only one species of lychees in the genus (Litchi chinensis in the soapberry family) -- the available varieties are cultivars.

And, now I'm out of lychees...

Pride in Jerusalem

Thursday was the 12th Annual Pride Parade in Jerusalem. I didn't know this in advance; I found out because in walking home from the shuk there was clearly a commotion of some sort - helicopters hovering. When we got to Ramban Street the parade was just passing -- quietly. The music wasn't loud, there were no naked or nearly naked people, but there were lots of folks with flags. It felt more like a Pride March. Generally, the crowd seemed energetic, but not rowdy. Here are some pictures:

I did spot one Haredi man holding a sign up in protest -- I'm told it was something in Biblical Hebrew denouncing homosexuality. He didn't attract any substantial attention.

Certainly, the Pride Parade is not a major feature of the Jerusalem summer event schedule. And, it is a quiet affair compared to the Vancouver Pride Parade. Jerusalem needs rainbow sidewalks too! Still, in a religious and conservative city like Jerusalem, the fact that there is a parade to acknowledge the LGBT community is huge.

Here's how it was described in Haaretz (Israel's leading leftist paper) today:

Imagine an LGBT pride parade without pomp. Without trucks, mandatory naked abs, and electronic club music flooding the scene. Imagine a pride parade in a place where accepting one another, socially and politically, regardless of sexual, ethnic or religious identities is still controversial, and a parade which puts this challenge before hedonism and a party mood.

That pretty much sums it up.