(Guest post by Angie Guerra)
As we begin closing site this final week, I’d like to take a moment to write on one of the aspects of work we have done that hasn’t been covered yet this summer- Terra Ombra!
During our first week, trench supervisor and resident pottery expert Dr. Melanie Godsey showed us how to differentiate the pottery sherds. We learned about the fabric of a piece, inclusions, and how to tell the difference between fineware, coarseware, and cookware. We also were instructed by Reed alum Lex Ladge ‘19 on how to properly clean pottery for later analysis and cataloging without damaging the surfaces. After the initial talk, we did an impromptu sorting challenge to apply what we had just learned (we got about a 92% accuracy) As time went on these differences became more clear, both from our trips to museums (One notable museum exhibit was the wall of amphorae at the Paphos museum) and also trench experience! I have lost count of the number of times I have asked “Is this a rock?” or “What type of pottery is this?”
This year we had the privilege of washing a lot of the ceramics we had collected ourselves the previous few days. You can tell what you are investigating with your pick by each distinctive “clang”.. bedrock a clear ringing sound, mudbrick a dense thud- like snapping a thick bar of chocolate- but pottery gives a lovely clinking sound- mostly portions of the body of a piece – but sometimes handles, rims, intact bases- if on first recovery the pottery looks notable- we excitedly scurry out of the trench and put it into an appropriately labeled pottery bag, most other pieces are found sieving. At the end of the day at site, they are taken back to Terra Ombra for future washing.
We sit cross-legged around basins, huddled in groups under shade that becomes more scarce as the sun creeps overhead. headphones playing audiobooks or music. The fresh toothbrushes we earnestly scrubbed sherds with were worn down to nubs by the end of the month. Some bags of pottery have especially encrusted mineral deposits, in which case lemon juice is added to the basin.
When I wash the sherds, my hand sometimes drops into a perfect position- molds into the nooks of the fabric and I can feel the stature of the potter’s hands, the grit of the clay, the skillful way the clay was shaped and I can imagine the piece spinning on the wheel, muddy water not from washing but forming a fresh pot. I wish I could go back in time and meet one of these skilled people… but in many ways we already have. There is something so uniquely special about recovering artifacts made by humans with intention. Every sherd washed makes that connection feel stronger.
Due to the variety of sherds in every bag, sometimes groups get done faster than others. We all try to help one another out as best we can. If one group runs out of pottery, we will go to another group and assist in scrubbing the lime deposits off (or try to give moral support..” It probably needs more soaking in the tub..”). There is always a resounding satisfaction when an especially tough bag is cleaned. The walk back to the apartments is usually quietly content, and by the time we get back our pruney hands have dried under the midday sun.
