It’s been a while since I last posted on here; and that’s because I have somehow finally managed to enter the world of work. Round of applause please.
I’m working as a call handler for an insurance company in Croydon, and have been promoted from a temp worker to full, contracted employee.
Office work seems, to me, to consist mostly of being shouted at by angry clients, smelling of fish all day after spilling my packed lunch on myself, and trying not to stare at the old desktop screen too much to avoid a headache. But hey, today is payday!
Taking a random, let’s be honest boring job while you wait for the next opportunity to come along is something all archaeologists will be familiar with. The reality of archaeology can often be significantly less glam and adventurous than most people think, thanks mostly to this waiting game so many of us are forced to play.
When I first moved to London, I thought I would quite easily be able to get a good job for a year; but I’ve learnt that having a BA and Masters in Egyptology freaks potential employers out rather than making them want to hire you. Temporarily, it ended up damaging my job prospects rather than helping them- NOT something that is exactly advertised!
I’ve also learnt that, while I can happily research in the library all day, downing coffee to keep my brain buzzing, I get bored after about an hour in the office, can’t even drink coffee because I get so dehydrated (the horror for an addict like me!) and collapse in front of the TV as soon as I get home.
However, as everywhere in the UK, history has left its mark even on industrial Croydon, and I can’t help but become intrigued by it. Croydon is certainly not the most romantic of places; everyone who learns I work there pulls a bit of a face at its reputation, while my Dad refers to it as Stockport on Steroids.
My unpeeling of Croydon’s historical layers began with Park Hill recreation park, which I discovered when, in my lunchtime attempts to escape the stale office air, I spotted through the high rise buildings what looked like a castle – the lure of which I was obviously powerless against. This ‘castle’ (actually a Victorian water tower but it was still historical, so half a point awarded) was nestled in the middle of a large park, choc-a-bloc with spring flowers and blossom trees. Judging by the mature trees, I thought the park was about 100 years old.
HOWEVER, a little digging later and it turns out this male park is a tally the last remains of a deer park, which stretched across Central Croydon to a palace owned and inhabited by the Archbishops of Canterbury for over 500 years. Yes, Croydon has a palace. A palace in which the likes of Henry III and Elizabeth I stayed in.
The Palace still stands, and is now a girls’ school, so I went to have a nosy at that too. There’s only so much you can see behind the high walls but there is a society that open the palace for guided tours a few times a year, and I am dying to go on one.
Now, whenever I’m dodging the 4 lanes of traffic and skipping across the tramlines as I have to to get home, I stop and try to imagine how quiet Croydon must have been 500 years ago, with deer grazing and Elizabeth I (my favourite monarch of course) galloping across toward the palace. I tend to avoid the underpass now; the last time I used it I ended up in the middle of a turf war with a bag of rubbish soaring quite spectacularly over my head- so now I risk the traffic and imagine!
Croydon also, amazingly, has a Minster (like York!). This one is made of chipped flint and has a fascinating collection of tombstones, the reliefs carved representing the deceased’s career in life. The Minster is locked except for services, but the outside was still beautiful, if slightly neglected.
What Croydon has a lot of is late Victorian architecture, with a lot of Victorian shop buildings still in use today. Dating from probably only a little earlier is a distance marker, which has been placed in the park although probably was originally from elsewhere. The only side not eroded is the one marking Whitechapel. I love this.
It also marks the entrance to a little memorial garden, split into herb patches, in honour of Cicely Mary Barker. I had never heard of her; but I had seen examples of her artwork for most of my childhood- she was the designer behind flower fairies! She had no formal art training but her artwork is now instantly recognisable by people all over the world, and she lived her entire life in Croydon. That’s certainly someone to be proud of!
Thus ends my Croydon eulogy. But it just goes to show that history and stories are all around you, even in the most unlikely of places!
Now on to spend my weekend prepping for the CRE conference….
Few interesting gravestones from the Minster
When I pick up little shards of pottery, I feel like I’m lifting up tiny snapshots of history. Which is odd, given that pottery is typically seen as the least romantic element of archaeology.
Ceramic remains are the most common find on archaeological sites, often appearing in terrifyingly large numbers. These huge amounts of shards found are typically divided into diagnostic and non-diagnostic pieces, diagnostics being rim, base, handle or decorated parts, or anything perceived as unusual and potentially important ( in Egypt and Sudan, this also includes shards made of foreign clay). The rest tend to be counted, weighed, and discarded. Planning how to take the ceramic evidence on board without becoming too overwhelmed by millions of red sherds, often all looking the same, is something which always has to be taken into account prior to an excavation.
This link with numerical analysis is probably the reason many people don’t see them as very interesting. Even complete vessels tend to be considered only as chronological tools. But these hunks of clay have so much more to tell us than the date of the context they are found in.
Change in vessel shape can reveal the different things people were eating and the way they were cooking; the cultural identity they felt a part of; the people they traded with and whether they married into local communities when they were stationed abroad; correct dining etiquette and fashion interests. To me, there’s nothing more fascinating than a pot!
So I’ve set up this section of my blog to post on the non-cake related aspects of my life; a slightly more serious but infinitely more obsessive side! Here I’ll aim to share news on ceramic research and upcoming exhibitions, explore interesting vessels from various cultures and share fun little factoids (yes, they are fun, and there are plenty of them too!).
This decision coincides with the start of the ‘Festival of Pots’ at the Petrie Museum, a series of blog posts by various scholars discussing their favourite items in the pottery gallery, and discussing the reasons why studying pottery is so important for archaeology. Catch the first introductory post by curator Alice Stevenson here: http://blogs.ucl.ac.uk/museums/2014/02/04/pondering-petries-pots/. This promises to be a fascinating series, with lots of specialists making an appearance!
In other news, the schedule for the Current Research in Egyptology 2014 conference is out, and I’m due to speak on the 9th April on ‘Precious deposits: new interpretations of infant jar burials in Egypt and Sudan’, as well as presenting a poster entitled ‘Deliberate drips: developments in ceramic decoration at the end of the New Kingdom in Nubia’ discussing the supposedly careless nature of red rims on bowls in the late New kingdom. This being my first conference, I alternate between excited and petrified, not least because the last poster presentation I did was for GCSE History and I think THIS one might need to be a tad more professional…
Keep your eyes peeled for more pot ponderings, but that’s it for now. Over and out.
It’s fascinating to see how often archaeology has been appearing in the news in the past few weeks; with important new discoveries not only cropping up on the archaeology sites I follow on Facebook but also the National and International news.
In the midst of so much negative press coming out of Egypt, two recent discoveries at Giza have put a welcome positive spotlight on the country.They have transformed the way we envisage 4th Dynasty Egypt, and developed some vital context; all too often the pyramids are seen as striking World Wonders rather than apexes of a working community. Excavations by the Ancient Egyptian Research Associates, led by Dr. Mark Lehner, have uncovered the remains of a bustling harbour and a 21-room elite house. The harbour, including a large basin dug over 1kms from the nearest Nile channel, would have been used to move stone for building the pyramids as well as rations for workers and other luxury items. Lehner’s team have come across evidence for far-ranging trade links, with granite from Aswan, Levantine wood including cedar and juniper (now reduced to charcoal) and a style of pottery known as combed-ware jars, also hailing from the Levant. While this basin is located near a satellite town, a larger city served as home to many of those involved in the mammoth project, with large rectangular buildings once thought to house ordinary workers. However recent research has thrown up evidence that these may actually have housed soldiers or sailors, thanks to the finds of cedar charcoal and a hippo hip; fancy items not usually available to ordinary folks!
The house has thrown up the most interesting finds. Aside from the obvious assumption that such a large house must have belonged to someone in the upper echelons of society, archaeologist Richard Redding observed that all cattle bones (and there were over 100,000) belonged to animals under 18 months. They was also no evidence of forelimbs, the traditional offering to the gods. Evidently these people lived high on a diet of gods’ leftover veal! Additionally, 4 leopard teeth were found, probably from the leopard skins priests wore in this period.
The pottery obviously has intrigued me the most, as a type I came across frequently during my undergraduate years. Combed-ware storage jars become hugely popular in the 4th dynasty and are thought to have contained a liquid (wine for all those priests partying on veal!). At this point in the Old Kingdom, these traded vessels are found only around Giza and at a few other select royal sites, indicating that their import was very closely regulated and is a classic example of elite groups controlling resources as a mark of power. Take a look at ‘Egypt in the Eastern Mediterranean during the Old Kingdom. An archaeological perspective’, published in 2009 by Sowada, for more information on the changing patterns of trade in the Old Kingdom – I have to say, it is one of my favourite books. No dry academic treatise here!
These findings have fascinating repercussions for our understanding of Ancient Egypt in general. Almost like redeveloping a blurry photograph, life in the Pyramid age is becoming more and more vivid. Rather than a sandy, empty plain, something akin to the hustle and bustle of the London Docklands is appearing, and you can almost hear the shouts of sailors as they unload beautiful smelling cedar and huge jars filled with Levantine wine, delivering them to sem-priests on the quieter surburban fringes who are parading round in leopard fur cloaks, with the head left on in all it’s glory.
It just goes to show how little we know even about some of the most studied monuments in history. It should be no surprise then that we are still discovering startling things about the human past which are even further back through the mists of time.
I have been following the recent furores in the news about our human ancestors with interest. Human evolution has always been an interest of mine, and it have always been pretty mournful that I was never able to take modules in it at university. The discovery that between 2% and 4% of the genetic blueprint of modern non-Africans came from the Neanderthals pretty firmly puts the flag in the camp of those who always supported the idea interbreeding must have occurred. Although it seems they gave us some not-so-nice genes – such as those causing type 2 diabetes, Crohn’s disease, and, strangely, smoking addiction – it’s thanks to them that those of us up north have the more handy benefit of thicker skin, nails and hair to keep us warm in precisely the kind of weather we’re currently suffering. Hot on the heels of this news was the subsequent announcement by te same research team that Neanderthal genomes have been found present in the Khoisian tribes of South Africa, groups that speak in a unique clicking language and were previously thought to have genetically split from other human groups long before any others. According to David Reich from Harvard University, this indicates a back-to-Africa migration about 3000 years ago. Evidently, all over the world we share a slight Neanderthal heritage.
My favourite of these archaeology announcements, however, I think is the discovery of ancient footprints on the Norfolk coast last week. The footprints, which were found by Dr Ashton of the British Museum, are 800,000 years old and the oldest such found outside Africa. Study of the foot sizes suggests a family group, with one adult male and several smaller individuals, young males or perhaps females.
The prints were revealed by a rough tide washing away layers of gravel which had preserved them ever since they were made. Within two weeks these fleeting links to the past were washed away, with archaeologists racing against the clock in freezing conditions to record them before they vanished forever.
What I find draws me to this find is the snapshot it provides of one moment. It flashes up in my mind so vividly, this group making their way barefoot across the landscape to -where? What were they thinking as they walked? Perhaps, like many families travelling today, they were having a big argument with Dad about whether they were going the wrong way and had got lost.
Sentimental, perhaps, but it is this feeling that history is somehow linked to the present that intrigues and fascinates so many people. These are just a tiny selection of the new discoveries popping up in the news weekly, and it is nice to see that this year, academia is all guns ahead for announcing these important discoveries as much, and as publicly, as possible.
Well, sort of. London certainly feels like a country all of its own sometimes! After so much manic socialising at Christmas, the fiancé and I decided on a Bridget Jones-style mini-break as a change of scene, and thanks to Groupon, we got it half price with dinner slung in (always a winner). I’ve been obsessed with going to the Cotswolds ever since I read Sophie Kinsella’s The Undomestic Goddess (showing my academic side here…) so obviously I picked Blockley in Gloucestershire. And obviously it rained the entire time.
Still even in rain the Cotswolds managed to be beautiful; we even went on a bit of a hike! This was distinctly out of my fiance’s comfort zone; particularly since he refused to buy wellies…. This blog does not recommend trainers as floodwear. Halfway up what turned out to be a tramp up a long hill I remembered why I don’t like hiking, out of breath with only more uphill ahead of me – I prefer walking to GET places- but when we got to Broadway folly with the Cotswolds all spread out below us I decided it was, on balance, worth the short walk. I think we must have been the only walkers out that day using umbrellas however….everyone else was in true hiker gear, anoraks and walking sticks included. No thank you!
I loved the Cotswolds for its honey-coloured stone buildings, some thatched (a feature I’m only a TINY bit obsessed with) and most in the smaller villages all smushed up together to the extent some were partially underground. Thanks to growing up in a cottage I get particularly fond when I see latticed windows too….all to the dismay of the fiancé, who would feel like an elf in Bilbo Baggin’s den if I miraculously came into money and bought one.
However the archaeologist in me got particularly excited when, perusing the local maps to decide on our mini sodden hike, I noticed the spot of ‘Upton (abandoned) medieval village’. Why no one else I asked was even remotely interested in this is beyond me.
Apparently there are thousands of abandoned villages in Britain – Stephen Fisk has set up a website to record and display photographs of these quite haunting places, see http://www.abandonedcommunities.co.uk/index.html to take a look, although Upton is not currently included. I imagine this is because all that remains of the village is earthworks. Excavations by the School of History of the University of Birmingham between 1959 and 1968 revealed 29 buildings. In 1973 what apparently is known as a watching brief (you learn something new every day!) was set up for 20 days as a pipe was built through the area, and this confirmed the Roman origins of the village through sherds, walls and hearth remains, as well as possible timber footprints. Excavators theorise that the site may have prehistoric origins, although a substantial modern excavation would be required to assess this thoroughly. The Trans Bristol Gloucestershire Archaeology Society 102 (1984) has full details of the observations made here.
Villages have been abandoned through our history for myriad reasons; disease, war, forced resettlement – I have a vague memory of a village in the North which was flooded by the sea and a nearby resident stating that the church belltower was still visible at low tide, but can’t for the life of me remember its name, so if any of you have any clues do let me know! Upton is thought to have been a victim of forced resettlement by local elites, who wanted the area for sheep farming.
Even though my interest was piqued by Upton, and we did try to find it, I actually couldn’t. We drove to the area we assumed it was and attempted to get down a byway, but this turned out to be private land, and the torrential rain put me off getting out and trawling the woods and fields, possibly squashing a half-flooded potato field along the way. In the summer I have every intention of tramping over the whole of the Cotswolds if necessary to find the damned place, but it’s a shame there’s no sign to distinguish one field from the next….I’ll have to get my archaeology glasses on and scour the ground.
Meanwhile, I’m back in the Big Smoke, standing outside border control in a mini hurricane, wearing evidently not waterproof boots. Unfortunately, wellies are not considered appropriate office wear.
It’s been the most deliciously crisp autumn weekend down here in Crystal Palace; absolutely freezing, but wonderful blue skies. Given the horror expressed by family members and their friends up North London way when we told them we were flat-hunting in this neck of the woods, the sense of being in the countryside couldn’t be more incongruous.
I’ll openly admit: when we moved to London, I picked Crystal Palace because it was pretty. I’m an absolute sucker for Victorian conversions– drafts, water lurching between hot and cold, and random heart-stopping creaks as the house moved about overnight like it was alive (or a burglar was prowling around as I more commonly think) are, thanks to growing up in a 300 year old toll house, necessary for a home. New builds, with their insulation and perfect squareness freak me out no end. It was the wealth of old houses here that meant I dragged my fiancee into ten different estate agents until we found someone to give a viewing of a flat that afternoon, not any consideration of the history of the area. And the sheer number of drinking spots of course….
I’d heard about the palace but never really considered it much past an observational “Ah, yes, this is where it must have been!”. The obsessive archaeologist within me however, was not entirely impressed with my energy being expended entirely on cushion arranging and after one too many times manically scrubbing the bathroom sink on yet another unemployed afternoon, strictly told me to get myself together. If I can’t be a paid researcher on an Egyptological project, there is no reason why I can’t be a volunteer researcher on a local project.
To this aim, I have recently joined the Inspired by Crystal Palace Subway Project (http://www.inspiredbythesubway.org.uk), whose aim is to reopen the old railway subway, which closed in 1954, to the public. I will leave detailing the project’s manoeuvrings to a separate page on this blog; but as I sat in an Oral History training workshop over the weekend it was not the subway that was the main focus of debate (or the mysterious reason it is known as a subway and not its English word, an underpass) but Park Politics.
In particular, the fact that a Chinese Billionaire, Ni Zhaoxing, had purchased the plot of land upon which the original Crystal Palace had stood, and was planning to rebuild it, came under heavy fire (for more information, see here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-london-24375547). This would mean building right over the subway, which would not be demolished but used as an entranceway.
Protecting our heritage from non-sympathetic redevelopment is, in my opinion, absolutely vital if we are to avoid becoming a concrete, soulness nation. However, I seemed to be the only one reserving judgement about the development until more information was provided. Both my enquiries as to the intended purpose of the development and whether the Exclusivity Clause signed with Bromley council meant council-led excavations would be carried out pre-building were met with blank stares. The only thing flying freely about was rumours, although this seems to be a feature of the news coverage in general; a 6* hotel and an exhibition space are only two of the purposes being confidently asserted as definitive!
This is not intended as a slur on the project; far from it. One of its main aims is to interview members of the public for their personal memories of the subway, bringing the community into a heritage project which could have become purely architectural all too easily. Rather, this is meant as an observation of the tension simmering beneath the surface of every archaeological and heritage find, brewing spats between the desire to protect heritage and the needs of a modern community. How are we meant to deal with both? Are they inherently antagonistic?
Redevelopment is, in my opinion, not only a necessity for heritage sites but often a blessing. If an ancient building is sensitively redeveloped and given a new use as a town hall, it will be seen more as community heritage than if the stone skeleton was picketed off from the public and red tape made it impossible to use the area. One of the most beautiful things about British cities is how new builds have grown around old and the fascinating picture that presents on a day to day basis. On the flip side of the coin, cases such as in Sudan where future redevelopment of the Nile river is due to flood not only archaeological sites but also modern towns obviously brings no benefit to anybody.
Nu and the Zhongrong Group have promised not only to restore the site but also to engage with community feedback, although whether they will keep this promise remains to be seen. Personally, my main concern is the loss of community green space. What do you think?