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.
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!



































































































