Digging the DHA

15 July, 2017

Knysna, South Africa

Our first week had flown by, and the second arrived just as quickly. With the setup complete, we were moving a LOT of sediment and artifacts. We had six excavators, two gunners, and one recorder, all under the direction of our PI, Dr C. 

First, a brief background: our site uses the UTM (Universal Transverse Mercator), meaning that it’s part of a mapped grid zone. This allows us to set up squares within this grid, which are given numbers based on the southing and easting. Within each square are four quads, labeled SW, NW and so forth. When we dig, we open lots, a numerical sequence to track any change; and stratunits, a similar alphabetical sequence. However, while stratunits begin over again each season (only the year changes, for example, K16A, K17A, K17AA, and so forth), lots never repeat. Lots and their associated strats are opened with a photograph, a sediment sample is taken, and they remain open while the color, texture, and artifact densities remain the same. Once they change, the lot is closed, notes are taken, and a new lot can be opened.

My quad was in the eastern section, in a stratigraphic layer we refer to as the Dense Hearth Aggregate (DHA), because it’s a patchwork of hearths. Artifact density is high, and the sediment can vary from black to white, depending on the layers of ash. These appear to be made during the Middle Stone Age to the Later Stone Age transition, or when people stopped using stone tools about finger length and started making them fingernail size instead.

I was sandwiched between another hearth excavator, and two MAP crew members who were rapidly removing a layer of shell. This thick layer is predecessor to the shell midden, a Holocene deposit stacked high above our hearths (who knew there could be that much shell? That it would fragment into shell dust?). We do like the Dense Shelly layer, and hope it will explain more about the technology and subsistence patterns of the inhabitants.

My quad was really less than a quarter of a quad. I was tasked with removing a white ash layer (hearth) from its resting place. There were numerous small artifacts lying around, including two nice pieces of bone.

I got to work. Excavation is harder than it looks, especially when the sediment is concreted, and you’ve been warned not to break the fauna. Needless to say, it went slowly. More slowly because I can’t just uncover something and then remove it (that would be too easy, and would decidedly lack the mountain of paperwork necessary for a proper excavation). Instead of drawing everything in the old fashioned way, we use a delightedly high tech devise called a Total Station, or gun. Its really a piece of survey equipment that archaeologists discovered and put to work, helping us to “instantly” capture spatial data.

Our gunner was an ASU graduate student. Luckily, she’s had experience at other sites, and wasn’t fazed by the intense number of shots. Less lucky was my trenchmate, who was always blocking the laser. He often ended up sitting on the gun platform, scanning barcodes for my finds.

One of our gunners

After two days of continuous but slow progress, the hearth was removed. Instead of working on the sediment below the hearth, we all moved from the lower squares to the higher north ones.

Now I was in a less constrained but equally dense layer. This one covered the whole quad, and during previous seasons had seen the removal of several hearths. Now, there was only dull brown dirt and a ridiculous number of tiny bits of charcoal, half of which were nearly impossible to see until after you’d scrapped through them. The further I dug, the more fauna I found, which was great news for someone as obsessed with bones as I am. This may have slowed my digging, as I took the time to clean and examine the fauna (perhaps this is why I am spending half the season in lab).

At various times throughout the day, we caught glimpses of a pod of dolphins traveling up and down the coastline. Whoever was lucky enough (or bored enough) to be scanning the horizon would alert the rest of the crew. We had regular wildlife watching breaks at the sight of dozens of fins flitting through the water. Afterward, I asked the remaining crew members if they had seen the 50 dolphins. The words I should have used were “approximately 50 dolphins,” because everyone is still waiting to hear how I got such a precise number of fast moving marine mammals.

As Friday rolled around, I still hadn’t removed the entire layer, and my gunner was leaving. A black hearth was beginning to spring forth from the area, and I was getting tired of trying to capture bits of charcoal.

Although we had decided against a braai that evening, our crew was game to visit a local pub, which was rumored to have great chips (i.e. French fries), and beer. We packed up a bit early, hiked out, loaded the vehicles, and dropped people off at the pub, before heading to the flats to unload the equipment and pick up the rest of the crew. By the time we left, several people were getting ready to head to dinner, i.e. the wifi, so a small group headed back out.

Unfortunately for us, it was oysterfest, involving a carnival, a plethora of footraces, and other exciting events. As I had spent some time previously driving around the town, I was well acquainted with the insane traffic that struggled to fit into Knysna. During osterfest, it was bumper to bumper on the narrow roads. This Friday evening, the eastbound lanes were beyond full, stretching from one end of town to the other.

We settled in for a long ride. After a day of hard work, fresh air, and hiking, we were starving. Slowly we crept around the lagoon. Nearly an eternity later, we arrived to find that chips (French fries) were coming soon. Our comrades had commandeered a table on the wooden deck, under towering trees. The sky was fading, the bright sunset hues mixing and darkening to black. The now chilly air didn’t bother us, distracted as we were by plates of chips and tall glasses.

Too soon, we were piling into the car, heading for warm showers and the weekend.

Saturday, most of our crew headed out to the western Head to survey several caves. We hiked along sandy beaches, scrambled over boulders, climbed slabs of cemented dune, and clung to the sides of cliffs. Best job in the world. 

 What Ledge?

Exploring the cave 

But First Sandbags

8 July, 2017

Knysna, SA

The first week of the season is usually a bit hectic.

Before archaeologists can sit down and dig, before we can wash and analyze artifacts, we must open the site. As KEH-1 is on perched on a cliff, this includes installing general safety features (ropes), and a staircase to enable daily entering and exiting of the cave.

Now, Indiana Jones would be much more bad ass and realistic if he carried sandbags. Leaving the site open to the elements and curious visitors will probably result in its accelerated destruction, so every year we cover newly excavated sediments with sandbags. This naturally implies that we spend time hauling sandbags to site.

On Monday, day one, our agenda was simple: carry new sandbags to site, haul sandbags up the cliff, set safety ropes to prevent horrific falls, and bring in critical equipment. To achieve these objectives, we split the crew: four people headed to site, while the rest went for sand.

The sand is purchased from a small store in the Knysna industrial section. A strip of grass, our best parking option, separated the busy lanes from a brick fence. Between the leaning brick fence, a dusty road leads down to a courtyard. Piles of sand spill from cement stalls, crudely painted signs hovering over the grains. At the far end, a cluster of buildings are surrounded by cement birdbaths. We ordered two cubic meters of sand, measured out with a square wooden frame.

 This amount of sand is enough to fill about 60 bags (preferably more). Less sand in the sack is better, because over full bags are 1) obscenely heavy, which 2) makes them difficult to carry, and 3) more likely to break open. We (by which I mean, our current funding sources) pay for the sand, and we’d like to use it as long as possible.

Every year, our project hires several members of the local workforce to help carry the sand from the parking lot to site. I’ve been part of the sandbag crew several times, and it reminds me why daily yoga is necessary.

Our task, moving the bags from the truck to the cobble beach, was complicated by the current lack of stairs. We are able to take an “alternate route”, consisting of a circuitous path through the undergrowth. Clutching sandbags, slipping on the inch of leaves covering our detour, and stumbling over cobbles, we deposited our burden on the beach. Foamy waves hissed against the rocks, the sound covering the heavy thud of released sandbags. Once they were all moved from the overloaded vehicle, we headed to site, leaving the local crew to continue transporting the heavy material.

The slope up to KEH-1 is slicker and steeper by the year, likely because of our daily trek. The sandbags prevent further erosion (in theory, anyway), and provide a desperately needed staircase. Below the staircase is a steep cliff, and below that are jagged rocks and pounding surf.

Once the ropes were set, we were ready to haul in other equipment. A few things needed on site include buckets (for excavation), a table (all purpose), bags (all purpose), helmets (safety, in theory. In reality, we tend not to wear them), power cords (for lights). Most of these items, once on site, are left there for the season. Any expensive equipment (including anything which can’t be purchased in country) is carried in and out every day.

Once we were back onsite it was time to tear the sandbags off the excavated units.  Any still useable would be reused for gunning platforms and the staircase.

To accomplish this, we started grabbing bags and passing them up the slope. Unfortunately, due to exposure, many bags were holey and the sand was often concreted. After multiple close calls and sand being dumped on everything (including my head), we started letting the next person know about the tears and holes as we passed them. By 4:30, most of the slope was exposed and sand was everywhere.

The following day (Tuesday), we made another sandbag run. Several of us then headed back to the flats, to begin setting up our lab. Operating a lab during the season is critical. Our goals are to manage everything coming offsite, sieve and float all the bags of sediment, clean and identify the Finds, prep Finds for further analysis, and provide a space for our specialists.

We are fortunate enough to have four large flats at our disposal, one of which planned to convert to a lab. We began by removing a blue cushioned couch to the porch. We pushed the heavy piece against the outside door of another bedroom, effectively locking the doors, and replaced it with two plastic, wobbly tables. The myriad of boxes we shoved underneath the tables, while sheets of paper and other boxes took their place on top.

As the week progressed, the lab became more and more busy. We still had 10mm sieve material to sort, and then artifacts began to arrive. Specialists from all around arrived to get a sense for the site and the potential studies.

On Friday, we lit a fire in one of the outdoor braai pits. One of the great things about the flats is the braai area.  An array of vegetables, meats, and dessert soon appeared. The air was chilly but not prohibitively cold. Soon we began swapping stories, which grew more and more outrageous as the night went on (suffice to say, there is a reason that fireworks are banned on all our projects).

Socially Acceptable Ways to Eat Sugar

Written during the 2016 field season

Knysna, South Africa

Teatime was our downfall. By tradition, (and for sanity), tea is taken twice daily at our archaeological site. Although equally as many, if not more of the crew chose to consume coffee during the break, "tea" time was the designated moniker, despite the fact that the muddy, sweaty, jean-clad archaeologists perched in a cave were a far cry from a quiet teatime.

The coffee thermos vanished immediately, divided into a plethora of tin cups, leaving the hot water to be split between the herbal connoisseurs and hot chocolate lovers.  Boxed milk, with a manufacturing label proclaiming a life span of multiple weeks, despite a lack of refrigeration (not always true...!), and a bag of sugar offered additional energy.

At this point, myself and our assistant director began a lively discussion of the necessity of sugar for tea. This rapidly (teatime is a strict 15 minutes) devolved into the suggestion that the required sugar fix be solved by a spoonful of white granules. Most people don't go around ingesting sugar by the spoonful At this point, I remarked "tea is a socially acceptable way to eat sugar!"

During the remainder of our field season, I enjoyed noting the "socially acceptable" ways to eat sugar, quite possibly to the annoyance of other crew members. Our list was extensive. Here, I have gathered five, (or, rather, five categories) for your consideration and enjoyment.

1) Drinks

Coffee, and the caffeine ensconced in it, is a necessity for adult functionality. Alright, I exaggerate....but not extensively. Aside from the delight and magical effects of caffeine, the drink itself is a rich, aromatic delight that some require be diluted with sugar. Luckily, I have developed the fortitude to drink it black, but wouldn't turn down a cavity-inducing frappachino from starbucks (or anywhere else for that matter). Limiting these helps both my wallet and dental health.

Those who don't drink coffee may prefer tea, or perhaps, are already sufficiently awake. The myriad of benefits  offered by this beverage include staying awake, falling asleep, curing/alleviating various colds, in addition to more ritualistic nature in certain locations. Tea is our second most popular drink on site, beating hot chocolate (because only one person was consuming it). It is certainly an acquired taste (which I acquired in 2015), and I’ve noted that many people prefer some flavors over others. I have yet to convince my skeptical South African comrades that pumpkin spice tea is amazing. It’s probably best not to debate some American’s obsession with all things pumpkin spice, so I will say that I have developed a taste for rooibos. As with coffee, some people like to offset the bitter taste with sugar.

Coke in south Africa is described as superior to its American counterpart. Unlike in the United States, they use real sugar to create the soda. However, when consumed in large qualities, also negatively impacts sleep and coherence. A crewmember became briefly addicted to it, suffering through numerous sugar crashes from drinking a six pack a day, before switching to tea, but not before introducing me to the amazing qualities of the soda.

Alcohol is strictly forbidden onsite (perils of working on a cliff....), but located readily on numerous other occasions. Arguably beer could have nutritional qualities, because of the wheat content, but the rum and coke is likely a different story….

2) Toppers

A delectable treat seemingly absent from American soil (as far as I can tell), the popularity of these rectangular, cream filled cookies demands their own category. Vanilla, chocolate, mint....a multitude of flavors. Bulk quantities of chocolate and vanilla were readily available following the PP5-6 field season (somehow unconsumed by the ravenous crew), and subsequently appeared at KEH-1. Our crew was fairly evenly split between chocolate and vanilla lovers, causing minor disputes about which cookies should be eaten, which type was no longer on site, and how many should replace them.

The small, tasty treats were a great way to provide a boost of energy, especially after the strenuous hike. I admit addiction, although I would not be alone at a "toppers anonymous" meeting. That is, until halfway through the season another crew member made a remark about the amount of sugar in those cookies.

Suddenly there were a lot of extra cookies.

3) Chocolate

Chocolate bars are amazing in that they are small, compact, and easy to transport. While the melting point may be a critical consideration for other excavations, luckily, KEH-1 field seasons take place during the south African winter (hint: occurs during summer in the northern hemisphere). A was rare a day would pass that someone didn’t bring chocolate to site, usually generously split among the crew. Our assistant director is especially fond of kit kats, and these frequently appeared during teatime. I cant say I'm complaining. Occasionally, our site director would leave a bar of milk chocolate on the table. This usually required a delay of approximately 2.5 seconds to  locating the owner and obtaining permission to eat said food. Chocolate served as a quick pick me up following the aforementioned hike, and sometimes we’d tuck extras in the packs for the walk out.

4) Baked goods.

Some days, the best days, we got additional sugar onsite--in the form of cake. This all began the Monday after our braai. I decided a leftover cake would perfectly compliment our coffee. Similar to a bunt cake, with a hole in the center which could be argued to signify loss of nutrients, it was a store bought, glazed confection encased in a clear plastic container, conveniently provided with a handle for carrying over an uneven trail and up a cliff (….probably not what the manufacturers had in mind). This proved popular with our crew, and weekly cakes made their way along the cliffs to the humble cave.

Midway through our season, we discovered the most amazing Italian restaurant. After a dinner of extravagant pasta and pizza, I spotted...the cake. Mario's sells a variety of rich, homemade cakes, displayed on a pivoting glass stand. I decided that the thick chocolate cake would make an excellent lunch the following day. This turned out to be a brilliant idea!...I had amazing amounts of energy for two hours.

Complete sugar crash.

The final weekends at the PP5-6 season coincide with the 4th of July (American patriotism at its most colorful), Canada day, and the birthday of a senior staff member. These 3 important holidays, combined with the regular weekly braai, resulted in singularly amazing desserts. Usually in the form of apple pie and cake. Enormous, expertly decorated, unforgettable cakes. One of these, a giant strawberry sheet cake, covered in an inch of pink icing and studded with liquorish and candies, was the perfect end-of-season farewell to the PP5-6 crew, as they departed for home. I can't take credit for that one.

I can take slightly more credit for our end of season cakes. While they were not my idea, I did help with the sketching.

Another favorite is the South African pastry known as "kochsisters". Imagine a heavy donut, dipped in syrup. Dripping syrup. Our favorites were bought fresh at the local farmers market, but could be purchased at any store. They say the best part of travel is the food, and we were having a blast.

5) Braai desserts.

A blog about food in south Africa would be incomplete without mention of a braai. A braai is similar to an American BBQ, except that the food is cooked over coals vs. open flames. It is a major social gathering, a custom happily continued by most of the PP5-6 and KEH-1 crews. Despite the cold, once a week we venture outdoors, light a fire, re-arrange the lawn furniture, collect our drinks, plug someone's phone into the speaker, and proeed to cook large amounts of meat and vegetables (some would argue that a braai is only for meat, but our vegetarians would disagree). A handful of our favorites include: braai rolls, lambchops, borewurst (I have on good authority that no braai is complete without these), gem squash, bacon twisties (literally bacon wrapped around a stick), bacon wrapped cherries, vegetable skewers, and ostrich steak. 

And, because by some miracle we are still hungry, we plan dessert.

Simple, easy and a giant mess? Slice a banana, stuff it full of chocolate and mini marshmellows, and wrap in foil. This seems more like the quintessential summer camp treat, but it also goes well with rum and coke.

Malva pudding. In case you have never heard of this, it is another amazing south African dish. one of our teammates makes unparalleled malva pudding. For some odd reason, we only consume about half the dish at the braai. The rest make its way to the fridge in my flat (again, I can’t take credit). Word got out, prompting late night visitors and midnight parties. I can also vouch for its use as a quick breakfast.

Honerable mention: ice cream.

I'm always tempted to pick up a magnum bar at our morning coffee stop, but have yet to follow through. There are plenty of other chances for the icy dessert, despite the winter weather. I've succeeded in getting someone else addicted to the stuff, and we subsequently planned several ice cream heists. However, not all of these ended on a positive note.

In Plettenburgbaai, there is a wide stretch of beach providing one with an excellent view of the mountain, bay, waves, and sky. Also a hotel, boats, and shops, including an ice cream kiosk. Several of us had purchased our snacks and settled down on the sand. The seagulls eyed us. Another crewmember purchased fries. The seagulls attacked, whooping in with keen eyes and sharp beaks. Fries flew everywhere.

By now, you might be wondering if we ever consume vegetables. Many archaeologists are health conscious, and a number are vegan/vegetarian (kudos for keeping this up while in a foreign land!). However, the logistical and ecological constrains of a field seasons require some exceptions: between all the heavy lifting and walking, high energy snacks are a must.

So, next time you see your local archaeologist, offer them coffee or tea (or hot chocolate!) I won’t turn you down.

Moving Day

2 July, 2017

Knysna, South Africa

Moving is always a massive production. We have to gather everyone (we begin our season in Mosselbaai, which may be confusing as we are the Knysna archaeology project. We are attached to a larger project based here), grab equipment, and negotiate for vehicles, and snag leftover rations.

People are the easy part. This year, about half of our crew came two weeks early for  a lab season, and most of the rest were excavating another nearby site. The Pinnacle Point sites, under excavation for years, are temporarily wrapped up. However, another MSA (Middle Stone Age) site was open in Vleesbaai. This site is exciting for its open air features, massive dunes, and chance to probe the movements and lithic technologies of these people. It’s also got a rep for being quite cold (not sheltered by rock walls), and very windy.

The project was wrapping up as we prepared to depart (Intentionally. We share equipment). They closed site on a Friday, and we were scheduled to leave on Sunday, which meant that we had Saturday to locate and figure out the field gear. This is not as difficult as it seems, as we (I actually mean my boss), keeps a running list of necessary equipment. Periodically, we update it, trying to remember to add everything that we spent the last season wishing for. Part of the project (as is necessary for any archaeology excavation) is the use of a lab. In between seasons (read: non summer hours), SACP4 runs a full tie lab and employs local archaeologists and others.

The lab is currently located in the Munro house. Built around 1830, the house is part wood, part thatch, and one hundred percent ancient (comparatively. Not compared to the Middle Stone Age artifacts that we are excavating). Movement in the attic sends dust flaking down onto cringing individuals. The building, a historic landmark, cannot be repaired without extensive paperwork, as it must be restored not simply fixed. Sometimes it is in various stages of disrepair as we wait for paperwork to catch up to the problem.

The attic is a special place, accessible only by a flight of exterior stairs, uneven stone steps clinging to the side of the house. A dilapidated wooded railing perches precariously between the stairs and a vertical drop, but wobbles under ones grip. I think that the stairs themselves would make Tarzan dizzy. Perhaps I exaggerate, but I do haul a fair amount items up and down them. It is also home to a giant spider, which poked an inquisitive face outside the door, glanced down at everyone below, and then vanished into the depths of the attic.

The lab itself is cold, cement floors and un-insulated walls. Two massive wooden tables fill the main room, surrounded by posters presented at various conferences, displaying the significance of the work. Boxes are stuffed under and into every space imaginable. Artifacts are carefully laid out on the tops of the tables, amid more boxes, and laptops, camera equipment. A display case of artifacts and labels, faded pictures and dust, introduces the casual visitors to Stone Age technology. Towering shelves of boxes of bones and finds crowd the walls. The kitchen is even less well lit, cramped, a pot of coffee regularly percolating on the dilapidated table. But, it has one enormous draw: no price tag.

Soon a broad stack of supplies spilled across the stone porch. Piles of frame packs, stacks of tool boxes (used for digging and gun supplies), sandbags, bins, boxes of artifacts, tripods, and numerous small items in the process of packing were counted. Several brave souls ventured to the attic, searching among the dirty equipment.  At one point, we set up two total stations to give people practice gunning. It was a bright, sunny day, obscenely warm for winter, but we didn’t complain.

When everything was finally ready (just kidding, only everything that we located), we headed back to the house for dinner and some dungeons and dragons. D&D (for those who, like me, have never played), is the ultimate ad-lib role playing comedic fantasy game. I derive great pleasure from observing my fellow gamers, who were spending equal amounts of time attacking each other as attacking enemies. After what felt like ten minutes (two hours in real time and I don’t know how long in the game), we decided on an impromptu visit to Die Dekke.

Die Dekke (the Deck), is an enclosed deck on the Klein Brak river, which a restaurant and dance floor operate. It is tradition to take one of the senior staff members there for his birthday, yet this as a decidedly unplanned event. a series of phone calls, discussion, and designating drivers, before we were all crammed (literally) in the van, driving down dark and winding roads. We arrived shortly after the kitchens closed, and were initially denied food. While standing out in the frigid air, trying to decide where would most likely be open for food at this late hour; the kitchen was reopen on our behalf. Several of us took this opportunity to visit the dance floor; mostly free styling to whatever song was playing. Dancing is mostly about the ability to appear coordinated. I'm told that I achieve this coordinated appearance quite well.

 Perhaps I will try my hand at poker next.

The next morning was a scramble, waking up early after a late night of dancing. We began to work out the best way to fit everything into three vehicles. Besides the previously mentioned massive van, and we were getting two project vehicles and one trailer. In addition to the 7 of us working at the house, we were picking up 4 others.

After quickly separating the items which were staying and those coming to Knysna, we tackled the arduous task of moving them down the stairs and the driveway. Much more rapidly than anticipated, we filled up two vehicles with lab boxes, luggage, and food, all essentials.

Cars loaded, we headed down to the lab to pack the equipment. After thirty minutes of frantic and hectic preparation, it became apparent that a second trip was necessary. We issued a call for a volunteer to stay behind with the additional items. After a moment’s hesitation, I pointed out that the person lucky enough to remain here could have lunch at one of the nicer restaurants in mosselbaai.

The rest of us were less lucky, grabbing quick bites from fast food before beginning our hour and half drive. Then, music blaring, windows down, we turned onto the N2. The deep kloofs of Klein brock climbed,  flattening into the open area around George. Mountains shadowed the sky as we passed through, golden light falling on tall grasses and rimming the peaks. The road dove, negotiating the steep, sheer cliffs by Wildernis, clinging to the side of the mountains as we descended, passing the deep blue crashing waves and picture-perfect beach. lakes and bogs filled the open areas near sedge field, the road climbing again as we crossed the now-barren and ashy mountains surrounding our destination.

Quickly we unloaded, unlocking the flats, venturing out to the backyard. The weather was perfect for collapsing in a hammock or paddling the new kayak out into the estuary. Naomi and I grabbed coke and hit the N2, reversing our route to Mosselbaai.

Three hours later, raced to the flats to unload, as we were late for dinner. Mario’s is a small place on the Knysna waterfront. Floor to ceiling windows afford an excellent view of the bustling boardwalks. Inside, a hodge-podge of tables are fitted tightly but not claustrophobically around the counter and memorabilia. Despite arriving thirty minutes late for dinner, the three of us got food first. Dinner was spent refining the shopping list we’d written during our drive, and trying to locate an open grocer (most places close early on Sunday).

Moving complete.

Now, to make a list of the thing we probably left behind…..

Moving Rock: The Lab Season

           

           1 July, 2017

            Mosselbaai, South Africa

            I’ve spent serious chunk of time in the lab (thanks to a bout with malaria, but that’s a story for another post), which I initially found disappointing, because I was missing several weeks of excavation. However, that has given me further opportunities to participate in more depth in this project than just the field portion of our work. This is partially responsible for  my recent decision to continue with the project as a graduate student (starting in August!).

            Lab has a bit of a reputation for being boring. I don’t find this accurate, as lab is often where we make some of our most exciting discoveries. Excavators might not know what they are removing from an ashy hearth or black sediment, but as we clean, prep and analyze plotted finds, we knowledge of the site and its inhabitants grows exponentially.

           












             When we are not working on the materials, they are stored at a facility in Mosselbaai. The cavernous, frigid room is full of metal shelves reaching nearly double my height (I realize this isn’t extremely high), and bolted together with lengths of steel, and stuffed full of boxes. The shelves make excellent but dubious ladders, for anything above the height of the ladder; or in case the ladder is buried under mounds of sediment. The Knysna project has numerous boxes of archaeological material, equipment, and other crucial items, all of which are grouped in several different locations in the building.

            A trip to storage is usually a great chance to meet all of the spiders you didn’t actually want to know existed. I exhibit caution when lifting boxes, which can slow down our operation when trying to move them all. Our first trip, we gathered about 15 boxes of material, in addition to the 10 or so already moved to the MAPCRM lab or the house. After some rearranging, moving, and searching tubs and box labels to locate various items, we loaded the van and took everything away.

            The MAPCRM lab is currently full of other specialists, so we are using the house we are renting, a three story locality with an amazing view, and extensive common area, complete with a massive wooden table, which is perfect for analysis. We rearranged the house slightly to accommodate three additional tables and insane numbers of boxes. I’ve enjoyed having lab here (instead of going to lab), although it means longer hours, it also means I can grab breakfast anytime, and stop and cook something for lunch, instead of packing it. Additionally, it’s close to our favorite coffee shop, Blue Shed, which means we can walk down there during teatime.

Our next task was to cart all the boxes of rocks up the rather steep driveway leading to the back door. We accomplished this by forming a box chain, which worked so well we did it again for the stairs. The stairs are set in a shaft, with a window overlooking the courtyard. Made of slick wood planks, set slightly away from the wall, and bolted via several metal beams, they lack any sort of railing. We’ve dubbed them “the true sobriety test,” and have caused me moments of terror. I tend to creep up them with, one shoulder against the wall, hoping no one will fall onto the stone tiles below. Whenever we need to carry numerous heavy items, we station one person on each flight, and minimize the amount of moving around that is necessary (a strategy which has worked so far).

A lab season is critical for keeping up with the excavation. In addition to cleaning materials, we complete initial identifications, separate them by type, and make sure everything is accounted for before sending them to our specialists. During the field season, we run a lab to clean, ID and enter the plotted finds into a database (more on that in coming weeks). However, during this lab season we were focused on the reducing volume of boxes.

In addition to plotted finds (artifacts and ecofacts removed from site and given number), we keep EVERYTHING we excavate. Sediment, rocks, ect, are placed in a bucket, weighed, bagged and brought back to the lab to be sieved through a set of screens of 10, 3 and 1.5 milimeter widths. The non-sediment contents are given separate tags (to record provenience, or location, because different layers are different ages), and bagged separately. The best way to reduce the number of boxes is to sort through this material and remove ROOFSPALL, or random rocks which have fallen from the cave wall/ceiling and is not anthropogenic (humans didn’t bring it to the cave/modify it). These rocks are then weighed and tossed.

However, any material which is anthropogenic needs to be kept and analyzed. We have an amazing lab crew this year, who have not complained about sorting box after box of 10mm. Invariably, we make fascinating discoveries. Sara, our lithics specialist, has been teaching everyone how to identify the material used and the features of a lithic (see below). We also look for FMR (fire modified rock), a task made difficult by the reddish hue of the roofspall. We are naturally suspicious of FMR. We have also found ochre (colorful pigments used for decorative purpose), fauna, ostrich eggshell, shell (we dug through part of a shell midden, which generated boxes of mostly fragmented shell), and much more. This is a great way train everyone in the recognition of anthropogenic material, which ensures that more of it gets plotted and does not end up in the screens.

Photo Credit: google images

I have not gotten to do as much of this as I would like, instead being in charge of keeping track of everything as it comes through the lab. Naomi and I have been working on checking and sorting plotted finds from earlier seasons. I have also started learning how to submit permits, a process which I find engaging but am warned that I will grow to dislike. It does have a lot of redundant paperwork…..

We are heading out to Knysna tomorrow, which means our focus will shift slightly, from 10mm sort to plotted finds.

Also, now we have to move these boxes again.

Read more about our lab season at Dr. C’s blog:http://naomicleghorn.weebly.com/blog/why-quality-lab-time-matters