Last Week of Excavation - by Brittney G.

Our last full day of work was on Thursday and Dusty had started the day off by telling everyone that we might not make it home until late in the evening. We had 4 CUs open and 1 chunky STU to reach depth or bedrock before we could do our column samples, soil profile, and back fill. The threat of going home late to our families, loved ones and beloved beds must have lit a fire under more butts than my own cause I saw everyone working harder and faster than they had before. Maybe it was our grown sense of confidence in digging in the dirt, with the tools and with each other that made the last stretch of our epic journey together so effortless(...minus the blasted last 10 cm of thick clay in our unit!)

During lunch I reflected on my experience during excavation. Today was one of the last times I would see this site and dig dirt from this soil. As I was looking around I saw that every face had dirt smidges, no one's hands could stay clean. I sat with two graduate students that came to check out the site. They had been working in Belize the past few months and their tough skin and ready-to-dig attitudes showed it.  "Yes," I thought, "There's nowhere else in the world I would rather be than with these people and this dirt." It feels good to know that life can feel so completely sublime in such simple moments as these.

Chris J. was on site with us. The night before he had been our guest lecturer and he was nothing short of inspiring. Chris talked with us about his current work on the Channel Islands. He discussed some of his experiences in underwater archeology and also had lots of positive things to say about professors that many of us students are anxious to work with in the future. Besides being ridiculously smart, Chris is also very approachable and helpful.
That night most of us students went into down town San Luis Obispo to raid the farmers market for the best bbq, pizza, calzones, candy, and beverages that SLO had to offer. When we arrived back at camp the real party was about to begin!

Dusty, Annamarie, Chris and some of our fellow crew members were holding down the fort and the camp fire when we got back from town. Rachel took this opportunity to execute a long awaited plan of popping some kernels. The popcorn was perfect for our last fireside discussion that was about to ensue.  Every year Dusty has a tradition of conducting a shared reading experience of a parable by Kent V. Flannery. That night we sat around the camp fire learning what it means to be an archeologist. The article, "The Golden Marshaltown," put into words what I was experiencing the past three weeks. Being an archaeologist isn't about being famous... It's about digging in the dirt, and finding the smallest bits of a larger puzzle. Drinking whiskey with your friends and sleeping on the ground. Archaeology is about dedicating your time and energy to understanding more of the way people, climates, and culture change and effect each other; it's about the love and the respect you harbor for the land, it's history and what it can teach you.

This field school, Dusty, and Kent Flannery have all lead me to come to a single statement.
"Archeologists are the cowboys of science."