Tuesday 12
February 3013
7:30 AM
My Room, Dalkieth
House
I’m haunted
by this photograph
And I don’t
know why
But Every
time I look
I get shivers
down my spine…
My former phone sang, signalling it was time to get up. That song
meant it was 7:30, and so I actually had to get out of bed. Today was a big
day; Cameron was finally going to show me the Druid Circle on the estate. This
thought got me out of bed, and so I drowsily walked to take a shower. I stood
under the water too long, but I had about an hour and a half to kill, and so I
didn’t feel too bad. When I was done, I still had plenty of time to make tea
before heading out.
I met up with Aaron outside the house. He has an intern-ship with
Cameron, and so regularly goes out and about doing various maintenance work
around the estate. I could tell that he was mildly annoyed that this historical
tour was going to detract from his regular work. However, he didn’t say
anything about it one way or the other, and to be honest I really didn’t mind.
I’d wanted to see this druid circle for a year and a half; it would take a lot
more than that to spoil my mood.
Cameron came barrelling towards the house in a green pick-up As the
doors opened, two black labs and a yellow lab bounded out of the car with
Cameron close behind. He walked up to the two of us looking excited, as his
dogs sniffed around on the nearby grass.
The three of us soon made our way along the trail and then through
a gate. I was the only one not wearing boots, which was an unfortunate side
effect of not owning any. So despite having waterproof shoes, the mud was an
obstacle I tried rather diligently to avoid. We continued across a field, which
Cameron explained used to be little hamlet filled with about twelve or so
families and their fields. The field we were in was large, but dividing it as
Cameron had explained made this seem like utterly pitiful living spaces.
We continued on through a sparse forest-like area filled with oak
trees. Off handedly, Cameron pointed out a few of these trees were over a
thousand years old. Honestly most, of the really old trees weren’t looking too
hot. Anyway, we continued on through another gate, and then down a relatively
steep slope to the river. Here he showed us how the Romans (when they were
here) quarried stone. Along the bank of the river there was a sheer 12 foot
tall cliff face of sedimentary rock. Sporadically along the wall there were
unnaturally round holes. Cameron explained that the Romans would drill these
holes with an Archimedes drill, fill them with water, and then plug them with
oak. When the winter came, the water froze, and the rocks shattered. They then
had all the rubble they could ask for. When you have enough slave labour you can
build just about anything, ahh to be a Roman…
Anyway, from here we continued on until we made it to a small flat
plateau surrounded by a vaguely circular series of Oak trees. This was the
druid circle, and there wasn’t a stone in site. Apparently a group of college
students (from a university that Cameron didn’t know off the top of his head),
did a survey of the site using ground penetrating radar, and there is a circle.
It is just completely buried. The internal me sighed in disappointment. I
really couldn’t do anything with this without fancy ground penetrating radar or
permission to use a shovel (neither of which is very lucky).
We took a bridge across the river, and then Cameron pointed out a
chaplet from the 1600’s. We walked through the horse field, and I have to say
Cameron’s distain for horses was rather comical. Either way, we were soon back
at the Dalkieth house. Aaron and Cameron went off to do their business, and I
went inside to prepare for tonight.
Tonight was kind of a big deal for me. I had recently contacted
the Archaeology Society (ArchSoc) at the University of Edinburgh, and they had
told me of a lecture on cave art at 5:30. When I got to Edinburgh it was about
a quarter after 4. Arriving at South Bridge, I made my way under the endless
scaffolding and down Chamber’s Street. Passing the museum and then turning left
on George the IV’s bridge towards the University.
Once here, I quickly found Teviot Lecture Hall. Now the trick was
to find Doorway 5. As per usual, when I’m lost I quite often come across the
right place right off the bat, walk up to the door, and then decide that it
can’t be that easy and turn around. This was not an exception. I was certain I
had found the right block, and even more certain that I had found the right
building on the block (partially because it said Teviot Place and partially
because it was the only building on that block). There was only one door that
seemed to be opened, which seemed to lead into an open courtyard in the center
of the building where some construction was going on. I would have gone in
immediately if it weren’t for the fact that a hanging paper sign said “Doorway
4” with a little arrow pointing in. Well at least that meant that Doorway 5 had
to be close. I walked up and down the street a few more times before deciding
that this really was the only Door.
I casually walked under a stone archway and into a magnificent
Courtyard. Most of the area was blocked off by rickety metal fences as workers
laid new bricks on the ground. The ruddy construction worked ground was in
stark contrast with the magnificent building that surrounded the clearing.
There were more hanging paper signs, and after following them in
circles I eventually found Doorway 5. Walking in, I found a small reception
room with a large flat screen monitor that displayed the events in the Lecture
hall in the adjoining room. Right on schedule, Dr. Bahn’s presentation on cave
art was supposed to begin at 5:30. Feeling pleased with having found the right
lecture hall and having about 45 minutes to kill, I decided to head to the
library. I didn’t exactly have a purpose, but as you know I loved the library
here and so it seemed like a good use of my time, or at least better than
watching random construction workers lay bricks.
I ended up checking out two books on the Picts after a wee bit of
difficulty with their self check out system. I was back at Teviot place by a
quarter after. I certainly didn’t expect most of the people to be early, but I
assumed the Archaeology Society would be to have things set up. No one was
there.
I began to get rather nervous, but I waited patiently until at
about 5:25 I saw a woman hang a poster outside Doorway 5. She quickly slipped
inside, and so I followed. There was no one in the little reception room so I
poked my nose into the lecture hall. The woman I had followed and another woman
were chatting. I was told that I was a bit early and that the presentation
didn’t start until 6. I told them who I was and that I wanted to become a
member. £4 and a nifty laminated card later, I was a member of ArchSoc. Then
something amazing happened.
“So what are you studying?” Katie, the woman I had followed in and
incidentally the president of ArchSoc, asked.
“Archaeoastronomy,” I responded, waiting for the usual reaction of
confusion.
“Ohh, that’s cool,” She instead responded. She then wrote down the
name of a place I would have to look into. Every time I would mention my major
for the rest of the night I was met with not only with an instant understanding
of its subject matter and sense of intrigue. I wonder if this is how people
with real majors feel all the time. I have to admit it was kind of nice.
Anyway, I took my seat in the front, waited, and watched as
numerous students shuffled in over the next 30 minutes. It really took me by
surprise how many girls (and very pretty girls at that) were Archaeology
Majors. Anyway, after what really didn’t seem like that long of a wait, Dr.
Bahn took the podium starting off with a joke. He then quickly moved into the
history of our understanding of Cave Art.
Since I unfortunately had a very limited Archaeology background to
begin with, I had only ever known cave art as a passing interest. Over the
course of the lecture I instead learned that this is a truly viable discipline.
There is a distinct series of styles that can be seen in cave art that grows
changes and develops over the time in which these paintings appear. I am by no
stretch of human imagination an Artist, Art critic, or even an Art Historian.
However, I have to say cave art sends shivers down my spine. It has nothing to
do with skill or technique, but instead has everything to do with the magnitude
of what that art symbolizes. This was one of the defining steps in cultural
development for our species. These are some of our species first baby steps.
After the speech was done, we headed off to a few pubs eventually
finding one that didn’t have the football game on (the first two we went to
were so loud that we couldn’t hear ourselves think much less talk). I ordered a
pint of my now favorite Strongbow, and then sat at a table. To my surprise, I
found myself sitting with a bunch of Americans. I have to be honest, I was a
little disappointed by this. I had only been here for about a week at this
point, and I had enough time with Americans back at the house. Either way, they
were all very nice, and as an added perk Dr. Bahn sat at our table along with a
few others from the ArchSoc board.
The evening’s conversation began with each of us asking various
questions about cave art, and then Dr. Bahn answering them. Towards the end of
the evening, the conversation had deteriorated largely to jokes about the
French. I’m choosing not to repeat these jokes for the sake of any children
reading this. However, I will say that jokes are a wonderful cultural “thing.”
I have a bag of jokes, and a few of them are rather funny. However, I didn’t
say them because the truth is that jokes are a cultural thing. American jokes
work on Americans. Dr. Bahn was English, and most of the group (especially
towards the end of the night) was Scottish. However, one thing that they all
could line up and joke about was the French, which incidentally worked for the
Americans as well.
Over the course of the night I watched the college students here.
It made me smile to think that they really weren’t all that different from
their American counter parts. Partly I think this is because, there are a lot
of cultural similarities between the US and Scotland, but mostly I think it’s
because people are people no matter where you are. We fall in love, we break
up, we eat, we, tell dirty jokes, we’re people. It makes me sad when I think
about the ones who don’t realize that.
Cheers!
Anth
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