Our class embarked on the bus with many preconceived notions of what to expect from
our archaeological dig in Jerusalem. All of them were from either:
a) Indiana Jones,
b) The Mummy,
c) Romancing the Stone,
d) National Treasure,
e) Sahara,
f) or Casablanca (?!).
Well, that wasn't exactly what we experienced.
Our group was honored with the task of volunteering for free . . . rather than the more typical procedure of paying for the privilege. For two days, from 7am until 12:30pm, we dug dirt. After that, we retired to contemplate . . . contemplate approximately 20 kosher pizzas from a nearby Pizza Hut in Jerusalem! Then for a change of pace, from 1:30pm til 3:30pm, we dug some more.
For two days, our task was to open up a shaft near the beginning of Warren's Shaft under a hill in Jerusalem. At the end of our time, we had transported about 200 cubic feet of dirt and rubble. Don't get me wrong, there was a lot of pottery shards, boulders, and some bones to be found, but for the most part, we dealt with dirt. Needless to say, dirt in and of itself is terribly boring. Is it any wonder that it is called dirt? Even the name has all the marks of a thrill-killer. In order to maintain some enthusiasm and make the time fly by faster, we engaged in some sanctified sarcasm and "talkin' trash."
Jeremy Phelps to Jeremy Siemer:
"Put your shirt back on. Yeah, the one that says 'I'm with stupid' and has the arrow pointing up!"
Phelps strikes again:
"The girls sure are digging aggressively! Did you tell them that there was a souvenir shop at the bottom of the pit?"
Luke Neuman (at lunch break):
"This is such dirty work! Do you have any hand cleanser?"
Nate Boone:
"Why? You should be happy to be in the dirt. God made man out of the dirt."
Me:
"So we're going back to our roots then?"
Nate:
"Kinda, besides, after death man turns back to dust, so basically we might be up to our elbows in our ancestors."
Some folks decided to sing to pass the time. Unfortunately, they did so while singing with their "shower voices": loud and orff key! (Groan)
This led to some good-natured ribbing.
Me:
"You should sing solo. So low we can't hear you!"
Phelps:
"You should sing tenor. Ten or eleven miles away from here!"
Me:
"You should sing bass. Basically not at all!"
The deeper we dug, the more we were made aware that we were excavating mud, thanks to the water that was percolating through the rock about the shaft.
Jennica:
"It's so cold and wet down here!"
Nate:
"Don't worry . . . the closer you dig to hell, the warmer it will get."
Our bucket chain gang passed the time by singing songs. There were a lot of campfire songs and classic rock singles coming up in the review. I resented being reduced to nothing more than a passive listener, so I demanded some Disney songs to which I already knew the lyrics. I did have one disclaimer to offer, though:
"Anything is fine . . . except 'Kiss The Girl," 'cause there are two on my right and I might get tempted!"
We walked on an excavated street almost 40 feet below modern ground level. More specifically, it was a road from the first century AD, based on the finding of coins from the 1st Jewish Revolt against the Romans. We were presented with the opportunity to view one of the newly discovered coins that was minted in the 4th year of the revolt, 69 AD. Once it has gone through the restoration process, the coin will be worth $50,000 on the antiquities market. That's roughly the equivalent of my room and board at my college for the past two years. My mom is gonna read this posting and wonder why I failed to pinch a coin to offset my current education expenses!
The path of the street led from Jerusalem to the Pool of Siloam, so with some certainty I was blessed with the gift of walking were Jesus walked when He restored the vision of the man who was born blind (John 9:1-11).
The final roundup of our team before we left.
Back row: Chris, Ryan M, Me (a name I call myself), Chad, and Tad.
Front row: Heather "Smiley", Brittany "B Good", Ryan H, and Nate "Der Boone Goon".
Foreground: Todd, our team captain (and level-headed professor, make no mistakes).
