Op díe fiets

Volgens mij mompelde ik in mei al dat het even zou duren eer ik weer boven water was, maar 4 maanden is wel wat overdreven. Dat krijg je nou eenmaal in Cambridge. Ik zal het even heel kort samenvatten: 

Mei: Akkadisch examen leren. Akkadisch examen met een 5.5 gehaald. Gemiddelde van een 8 naar een 6 weten te zinken. Ja talent hé...

Juni: Snel over de schok heen 10 000 woorden dissertation geschreven. Oh nee grapje, ik ben nog steeds niet helemaal over de schok heen. 5.5 hoe krijg ik het voor elkaar...

Juli-Augustus: Alle opgravingen in Turkije massaal afgelast. In Roemenië beland. Schrijf ik nog wel een apart blogje over want behalve ongelooflijk afzien was het daar wel interessant.

31 augustus, 2 uur voor de deadline, dissertation ingelevered. 12 000 woorden, 107 pagina's, 32 tabellen met palaeografie. Klaar met m'n Cambridge Master. De School Die Niet Genoemd Zal Worden mag in oktober een kopie van mijn diploma verwachten.

Het meest nuttige wat ik hier heb geleerd? Hands down, aan de linkerkant van de weg fietsen. Mijn nieuwe fiets-skills zal ik de rest van mijn leven blijven waarderen. Cheers Cambridge.

Ze hangen je examen-resultaten buiten op bij het Senate House - en dan kondigen ze het ook nog even publiek aan. Traditioneel, als je het laagste cijfer hebt dat nog steeds een voldoende is, krijg je een houten lepel. Nou, missie geslaagd. Wie koopt er voor mij een houten lepel?

 

Paddy helpt me met m'n dissertation. Lyuba ook.

De theeselectie in een Cambridge keuken.

Even punten.

May bumps. (Vertaald: Cambridge boot race.)

 

Emma May Ball.

 

John's May Ball.

 

 

Darwin is helaas in juni overleden. Rust zacht, Darwin : (

En als afsluiter, nog even in de Cam gesprongen.

Library Times: Cambridge Edition

Akkadian versus Mathemathics

Iga's Dissertation versus Beer

Bread versus Bread-cakes

Exciting essay times

Exciting Akkadian times

And generally confused weather

Archaeology @ Home: will dig for food?

First of all, if anyone from Cambridge stumbles across this:
Please may I have a part-time job next year? Can make very good coffee and dig excellent holes. Combination of these two skills is possible. Flexible on hours.

On the bright side: I have been accepted for PhD places at Cambridge, SOAS, Edinburgh and Glasgow. The significantly more dark and gloomy side: I have so far been rejected for about 70% of the scholarships I applied to, and counting.

In other news. NWC had an open day, and despite the blizzard that was going on a significant number of people turned up to check it out. It seems that Cambridge is quite interested in archaeology and its heritage. This is new. This is cool.

I also spent a day excavating a little test pit in Stapleford with some local schools. (Stapleford? Yeah I think even the bus-driver had no idea where it was as he drove straight past the stop, kindly providing me with the opportunity to take a 40 minute stroll through the country-side to get to the site.)

It turns out, these kids actually voluntarily choose to come dig. They were genuinely quite interested (interest ranging from an enthusiasm for using shovels, to the actual history). We found pottery ranging from 1450-1750 (single glazed, double glazed, decorated), as well as a well-preserved 1967 Elizabeth II coin.

There was no clay. It did not rain. The students were polite and generally just lovely. The only thing that could make this better is actually getting paid to do it. 6am-6pm guys. Note of interest to the non-British: these were GSCE students, not even A-level, nowhere near close to choosing a university or other type or education. The UK is seriously on top of their business. Holland should try it!

In other, other news. I am trying very hard to write serious and relevant essays at the moment. In addition, I am trying to master the art of reading cuneiform backwards before my Akkadian exam. So see you in June.

Pass the Siqqu: Utnapištim's 'Bread-Cakes'

Last week, I accidentally challenged myself to bake Mesopotamian ‘bread-cakes’.

In the epic of Gilagamesh, tablet 11, the story goes like this:

    ina                      še-er                                                    ku-uk-ki

     ina          li-la-a-ti        ú-šá-az-na-nak-ku-nu-ši              šá-mu-ut            ki-ba-a-ti

In the morning (it will rain down on you) bread-cakes,
in the evening, a torrent of wheat.

Of course, these raining bread-cakes (kukki) intrigued me (who does not like it when it rains cakes?!*), and I decided to investigate what they were. Were they bread? Were they cakes? Who ate them? What were they made of? The Dutch translation I own (de Feyter 2001) even translated kukki as ‘koekjes’, which in English means ‘biscuits’.

*Actually, translation note: the Akkadian word for ‘bread-cakes’ sounds similar to the word for ‘darkness’; the word for ‘wheat’ sounds similar to ‘heavy’. So a lovely shower of abundance can at the same time be a terribly ominous and destructive event (death by cakes).

It turns out, this was not the easiest of investigations. Googling ‘bread-cakes’ proved entirely unhelpful. In the end I found lists of ingredients by looking for the Akkadian key-word kukku (nominative form), but especially also the Sumerian GUG2.

GUG₂/kukku were considered cakes by the ancients, but personally I would classify it as bread. They were a type of sweet fruit bread made with flour, fats and, most commonly, dates. Obviously you could have more and less luxurious versions (high quality flour, the use of butter instead of sesame oil, the best possible dates), but generally they were meant for the higher classes and usually as a sacrifice to the gods (Brunke 2011: 173). The texts seem to suggest that poor farmers did not get to have kukki.

I would like to argue against this: all you need to make bread is flour and water, if you want to make special bread you add oil, more special honey, more special raisins, and so forth. As long as you were a farmer who was able to obtain flour, I am quite certain you could make your own variation of kukki. (That is, ignoring that this was made for religious occasions; it may have been insulting to just make kukki for yourself, I do not know.) I spent roughly 5 quid on all my ingredients, and that is because Sainsbury’s dates are expensive, and I decided to invest in new honey. This will make me bread-cakes for the entire Easter break.

So what are the ingredients? Lets’ take a look at all the seven available Ur III (21st-20th century BCE) texts that describe them (from Brunke 2008: 132).

Mihira 32, VS ii’ 1-4
1.0.0.0 zi₃-KAL gur // 0.0.5.0 zu₂-lum // 45 sa gi // inda₃ gug₂ gal-še3

BM 103421, RS 5-8
0.0.5.5 sila₃ zi₃-KAL // 0.0.0.5 sila₃ zu₂-lum // 10 gig₄ i₃ geš // 10 sa gi gug₂-še3

AUAM 73.1420, VS ii 15-18 & 21-24 & RS i 10-13
0.0.5.5 sila₃ zi₃ z₃-KAL // 0.0.0.5 sila₃ zu₂-lum // 10 gig₄ i₃-geš gug₃-še₃ 

FLP 841, RS 6-8
0.0.5.5 sila₃ zi₃-KAL // 0.0.0.5 sila₃ zu₂-lum // 10 gig₄ i₃-geš gug₂-še3

YBC 1165, VS 1-5
0.2.0.0 sila₃ zi₃-KAL // 0.2.4.6 sila₃ dabin // 0.0.3.0 zu₂-lum // 0.0.0.1 sila₃ i₃-geš // gug₂ še₃ 

Um. 3513, VS iii 17-23
[n.n.n.n] ? saga₁₀ // 0.0.2.0 [zi₃] gu₂ nida // 0.0.0.3 sila₃ i₃-nun // 0.0.0.3 sila₃ ga-[ara₃ muru₁₃] // 0.0.0.3 sila₃ geštin [had₂] // 0.0.2.0 zu₂-l[um] // inda₃ gug₂ gu-l[a]

Um. 3513, VS iii 24-26
1.0.0.0 zi₃-KAL [gur] // 0.0.5.0 zu₂-[lum] // inda₃ gug₂ [...]

I have translated the nice BM one to give you an idea of what all this means. (I do not have time to calculate all the sexagesimal volumes for all seven of them.)

BM 103421, RS 5-8
0.0.5.5 sila₃ zi₃-KAL // 0.0.0.5 sila₃ zu₂-lum // 10 gig₄ (šiqlu) i₃ geš // 10 sa gi gug₂-še₃
55 l of good flour // 5 l of dates // 1.5 litres of oil // this makes 10 cakes

1 sila = 1 litre
1 šiqlu = 1 shekel = 1/6 sila or 0.16 litres

Obviously the Babylonians were very serious about their cakes; these volumes are a bit large for every-day purposes, so I have created my own adaptation of the recipe. The other recipes also make mention of ‘white cheese’, ‘butter’, raisins and honey. Since I am currently living in the posh world of Colleges, gowns and port, I have appropriately incorporated all ingredients.

A cup of wholemeal flour
½ a cup of dates
¼ cup of raisins or currants
One tablespoon butter
Two tablespoons mascarpone
Two tablespoons honey

This makes 10-15 biscuit-sized ‘bread-cakes’.

Add together all the dry ingredients, and then add the fats and liquids. Knead into a ball, adding flour if the dough is too soft. None of the texts really bother describing how to shape the kukki or how to bake them, so I went with small unimaginative lumps which I baked for about 10-15 minutes at 180-200 degrees (all depends on the enthusiasm of your oven and the size of your ‘bread-cakes’). Since the Babylonians used ovens and were skilled metal workers, I assume that this temperature is not unrealistic. Bake until golden-brown. The bread is will be quite soft due to the fats, and when made in the size of a biscuit. These can serve as filling, sweet, snacks. It definitely benefits from cheating a little though, and adding some salt.

My kitchen is filled with the smell of lovely, sweet dates.
Damqiš aklā!

And check out Pass the Garum.

Bibliography
Brunke, H. (2011). Feasts for the Living, the Dead, and the Gods. In The Oxford Handbook of Cuneiform Culture. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Brunke, H. (2008). Essen in Sumer: Metrologie, Herstellung und Terminologie nach Zeugnis der Ur III-zeitlichen Wirtschaftsurkunden. München: Herbert Utz Verlag.
de Feyter, Th. (2001). Het Gilgamesj-Epos. Amsterdam: Ambo.
With further thanks to Alex A., Julian B. Chris S. and Martin W.