Greek Week: January 18-24

Part of the shoreline of Despotiko.

When I was a young and adventurous undergraduate, I did some traveling (for what I thought at the time would eventually become my career) to Greece. I was there for five weeks in the summer of 2001, leaving behind a sweet, charming boyfriend who later became my husband.

Then I moved back to Alaska to pursue a graduate degree and never became the archaeologist that I thought I would.

But Greece still holds a special place in my heart. Once you've been, it's one of those magical places that you never really stop thinking about.

The dig site, facing the ocean. Note the stone
goat fence in the background.

The dig site was on Despotiko, a very tiny island next to Antiparos. The site itself had been discovered by a goat herder, who, rumor had it, had been squatting in the vicinity for almost ten years. He might have been able to stake a claim the area as part of Greek law (another rumor suggested that since he had been there for more than ten years, he could claim ownership). But Greek antiquities are taken very seriously there, so he contacted the government and student volunteers from America, Canada, and Greece flocked to this small island to discover something.

The goat herder was not pleased by this activity. His goat fence needed to be moved, so a crew was hired to move it about five feet closer to his building. A team of about four men demolished the stone fence and then rebuilt it in a day. It was pretty incredible to watch. They certainly knew what they were doing!

Me and another volunteer uncovering a stone floor.

Me and the dig's mascot.

Most of the people I met stayed for only the first session. I was one of the lucky ones who had no other priorities and could stay for an extra two weeks. It was amazing to see the site unfold before us. Because I was such a careful digger, I was assigned to work uncovering a Roman floor. It was difficult work because I couldn't dig too far through the clay or I would ruin the floor.

Digging away!

Most of the time, we were just digging up soil in an attempt to uncover everything and anything we could as quickly as possible. The American dig director was often exasperated by the Greek dig director. He would often chide him about losing the context of our finds.

Sometimes I miss volunteering for digs. I have fond memories of the camaraderie, the history, and the anticipation of finding something. There's nothing like back-breaking labor to cement a group of strangers together.