So last month I got obsessed with Roman burial stuff after watching this documentary. Thought it'd be cool to actually see what physical evidence we've got lying around museums to understand how they viewed the afterlife. Grabbed my notebook and hopped on a train to London first thing Monday morning.
First Stop: The British Museum
Walked straight into the Roman Britain section like I owned the place. My target? Those glass unguentariums - basically tiny perfume bottles folks got buried with. Stood there squinting at this display case full of bluish-green containers no bigger than my thumb. Couldn't help thinking how wild it is that someone actually thought, "Yeah, Aunt Flavia's gonna need her fancy oils in the underworld." Took notes until my hand cramped up about how the richest graves had dozens of these jammed beside the bodies.
The DIY Mess
Got home Wednesday all fired up to recreate my own "grave goods" setup for Instagram. Rummaged through my kitchen like a madman - found a chipped coffee mug for a drinking vessel, repurposed a candle holder as an oil lamp, even stuck some parsley in a shot glass pretending it was fancy Roman herbs. Laid it all out on a black cloth trying to mimic tomb arrangements... and immediately realized something felt totally off.
- First: my pretend "folding knife" was a butter knife that wouldn't cut warm butter
- Second: all the pottery pieces were clearly made yesterday not two millennia ago
- Third: accidentally knocked over my "oil lamp" trying to position it right and got tea everywhere
Total fail moment. Realized you can't fake this stuff - there's a reason archaeologists study the real deal.
Lightbulb Moment at the Roman Baths
Went back out Saturday dragging my annoyed husband to Bath. Stared at actual excavated copper strigils - those curved tools Romans scraped sweat off with after baths. Museum card casually mentioned they've been found in warrior graves. Brain started connecting dots: if you're taking your sweat-scraper to the afterlife, you're probably expecting to keep doing Roman gym activities forever. Later found a display where some poor soul got buried with six freaking lamps. Guy must've been terrified of underworld darkness.
What Hit Me
Staring at real grave goods changes everything. Theoretically reading about "belief systems" means nothing till you're nose-to-glass with some kid's grave containing three carved wooden chickens. Their entire afterlife vision? Pack what you need for daily eternity. Farmers buried with sickles expecting eternal harvests. That fancy lady clutching her mirror? She'll be checking her hair for infinity. Doesn't matter if we think it's nonsense now - their stuff screams what they desperately hoped was true.
