Hoe overleef ik: januari

Opstel ingeleverd. Aanmeldingen opgestuurd. Het is 1 februari: tijd om te slapen.

De laatste week was zo een chaos. Geen tijd voor m'n huiswerk Akkadisch; zelfs geen tijd om naar m'n lessen te gaan. Al m'n docenten geirriteerd, net in die ene maand dat ik even een goede indruk op ze moet maken. Zucht. Ze hebben dit zelf toch ook ooit meegemaakt? Want die deadlines zijn volgens mij altijd al idioot geweest. Het is de eerste test, om toegelaten te worden: de deadline overleven.

Donderdagochtend: na 4 uur slaap ben ik naar m'n les gesleept om 9 uur 's ochtends. Letterlijk, gesleept, want m'n arme fietsje is overleden. Les tot 5 uur 's middags. Aanmeldingen schrijven tot 10 uur 's avonds - en tsja, toen m'n opstel nog afmaken. Om 6:30 's ochtends dacht ik, ik kan wel even tot 8 uur een dutje doen (jaja, wel 1.5 uur); daarna uitprinten en inleveren. Komt één of andere idioot van College om 7:30 's ochtends gaten in onze badkamermuur boren. Half-slapend opstel ingeleverd (blijkbaar ook nog half in pyjama). Om 11:30 's ochtends was ik weer thuis: tijd om te eten? Want oh ja, dat had ik al zo'n 16 uur niet gedaan. Pasta gekookt, salade in elkaar geknutseld, koffie gezet... en aanmeldingen afgemaakt. 2 uur 's middags: tijd voor nog een dutje. 3 uur: beurs-aanmeldingen opgestuurd. En toen... FEEST!

De eerste week van februari - elk jaar denk ik: ben ik nu ouder geworden, ben ik nu meer volwassen? Nee. Op zich geen probleem hoor, maar als je om 6 uur 's ochtends nog een kaart aan het tekenen bent vraag je je toch wel even af waarom je inmiddels niet beter weet.

Survivaltips: Survival:
- De was doen.
- De was opvouwen.
- Haar wassen.
- Koffie zetten.
- Meer koffie zetten
- Nutella, met een lepel.

 

Brunch is hier het sociale evenement van de week.

9 uur 's ochtends: verassingspracticum Mesopotamische Cultuur.

Toekomstvoorspellen dmv een lever.

Had mezelf ook bij het practicum Scandinavische Archaeologie in het Fitzwilliam Museum naar binnen gepraat.

En toen: FEEST.

Even chillen met de lokale Spaanse werkzoekenden.

In Spanje hebben ze een woord voor drinken op straat: Botellón.

Archaeology @ Home: North-West Cambridge Continued

Remember the potato field? Well, I did get involved. I have spent the past 2 weeks excavating it.
As it turns out, we are not actually allowed to eat the potatoes though. Disappointing.

This will be more of a personal than a historical account, and I took photos with my 2 megapixel phone, but hopefully I will be able to give a sense of the amazing, magical, well actually, muddy, place that is North-West Cambridge.

Basically, we were diggin' ditches to find ditches. Since North West Cambridge is a massive commercial excavation, it is essential to try and map all the settlement features, which in this case are centred around water management. Cambridge is very clay-y, and the surrounding fields make walking complicated, in the past as well as the present. We had to dig irrigation ditches around our ditches to keep them from filling up with water, and the Romans spent most their days doing the same.

I think originally there was hope there would be a big Roman road and some big Roman villas. If there is, it has not yet been found. That is fine with me - I loved gaining some insight in Roman water management, and looking for edges of different ditches. Especially since I am still working on that essay about Mesopotamian water management. Originally I was basing this around the fact that, even if they were simplified, or did not always stick to them, there were standard measurements for canals. Small canal, roughly 1m wide, 0.5m deep, that sort of thing. Having actually dug some small canals myself this month, I am now aware that there is no such thing as carefully planning and calculating something when you are just trying to take care of your field.

Most mornings before tea break (yes in Sweden it is fika (coffee break), in England it is tea break; I love archaeological culture) were spent bailing water from the slots in order to continue digging. Very time-consuming, very wet, and very cold. I am so happy I am a Middle Eastern Archaeologist. It got even more interesting when it started freezing, and therefore involved breaking the ice first - a little sacrilegious  for someone hoping for an Elfstedentocht at home. 

I would describe this experience as 'good fun', like you English people say. Culturally, this phrase is generally used to describe as something which you are happy you did, but was horrible to do. For instance, in the context of cutting thorny bushes with some nature preservation trust - your CV will like that you volunteered to do something, but on a personal level it is simply rather painful. I can safely admit that North West Cambridge was hard - I am not a great shoveller even in good weather - but I am also happy I can say I have worked in a snowstorm, that I can record gullies, and I am very happy having met all the awesome people working there. I really miss it now.

So on to the classic 'did you find anything cool?!'. Why yes, yes I did. I found a pile of Roman pottery, including some with bits of colour and patterns on it. Maybe not the most exciting thing ever (someone else found an intact wooden well), but I love Roman pottery. I also found four nails. And some bone. My students this summer got so excited every time they found a nail; suddenly, I remembered what that feels like. On one hand it is a little odd to go from site supervisor to newbie, but on the other hand it is the best thing. It is always more exciting to find (rather useless) things, and people are always more encouraging when you are new.

Highlights? Digging with my bare hands (when the clay was too sticky to shovel); lovely walks to work through the snowy fields of North West Cambridge; and Chip Fridays. Someone mentioned I never complained a lot. Maybe they just did not hear me, or maybe I mumbled my swearwords too softly. In any case, that is great. I had an awesome time, and I do not mean to complain. I want to go back and dig some more. Maybe even, you know, make some money from it next time. That way I can start wearing actual gloves on my hands again, instead of socks. Battling the unemployed archaeologist stereotype, yes I am!

  

Desembre a Catalunya

//Park Güell//

//La Ciutat//

//Sagrada Familia//

//Tarragona//

//Nadal 2012//

Eerste semester in Cambridge: hinc lucem et pocula sacra?

Wat heb ik het hele semester in hemelsnaam uitgevoerd? Zeer goede vraag, aangezien die kneuzen hier niet kwijt wilden wat de bedoeling was tot de eerste week van november. Ik heb Hammurabi grotendeels vertaald. Ik heb een aardappelveld verkend. En een begraafplaats. Productief? Nou zo voelt het niet. Vakantie? Ik denk paniek.

Cambridge voldoet aan alle stereotypen. Traditioneel, ouderwets. Iedereen studeert hard, gaat nauwelijks uit. Duur. Heel duur. Tegelijkertijd, toch ook heerlijk. Iedereen heeft passie voor z'n vak, iedereen is lief. 

Bureau in de laatste week...

Brunch.

Kerstdiner, voor de afwisseling.

Meer brunch.

For the Durham University Happiness Society we used to make a Happy List every year, to brighten up November a little (or in Cambridge: week 5). I will start with the ‘bad’, for some contrast. Or, lets’ not call it ‘bad’, lets’ call it ‘challenging’.

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The Cambridge University Library of Doom.

The non-existent cycling roads. The shit roads in general. The lack of traffic lights for cyclists. The difficulty of crossing streets safely. The absence of bicycle CCTV, guarded shelters, sheds. The fact that they do not seem to use bicycle racks, anywhere. Anything related to cycling in Cambridge.

Everything costs unreasonable amounts of money, which, even if I had it, I would much rather spent on Palestinian refugees, happy chicken, or even simply fair-trade coffee. 

PhD applications.

And this:

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Onwards to some of the fluffy, cuddly, happy things. 

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Chilling in The Grove. The one place where you may some times find a graduate awake beyond midnight. 

Also: watching Cambridge undergrads panic in the library on Saturday nights at 1am. 

The discovery of heart-shaped dish-washing sponges.

Finding your house-mate left biscuits in the kitchen. Or, making you a pancake when you enter the kitchen. And house-mates who actually drink - and share - decent coffee. 

Cheating the laundry machine out of a free washing token. And a free drying token.

Huntingdon Road Football Fellowship. Still not as popular as Gilesgate Amateur Football Fellowship, but we have 'till June to sort it out.

Ancient Literature Society. Yes.

Free Turkish lessons.

... and yes, brunch.

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The exciting life of a graduate student. Summarised into complaining about the internet connection, and looking forward to the next brunch.