Alright, let me tell you about this Pergamon trip. It wasn't just a holiday, no sir. I was there to get my hands dirty, properly dirty, digging around what they thought was a mosaic house. And boy, were they right. So, I packed my bags, not with beach towels, but with knee pads and a trowel I’m particularly fond of.
Getting Started on Site
So, I landed in Turkey, made my way to Bergama, which is modern Pergamon, you know? The site itself was up on this hill, windy as anything. The first thing we did, or rather, I did, was just walk the designated patch of land. Looked like nothing much, just earth, some scrubby plants, and a load of loose stones. You wouldn't think there was anything special underneath, but that's always the way, isn't it?
The team leader, a proper academic type but good with his hands too, he showed me the grids. They lay out these squares with string, so everyone knows where they’re digging. Precision, even in the dirt, that’s the key. I got assigned my little square, and it felt like being given a tiny kingdom of dust.
The Digging Begins
Then the real work started. It’s not like in the movies, you know? You don’t just stick a spade in and pull out a golden statue. It’s slow. Painfully slow sometimes. I was there with my trowel, scraping away, centimetre by centimetre. And brushes, lots of brushes. Little ones, big ones,soft ones. You sweep more than you dig, almost.
My back was aching by the end of day one. And my knees, even with the pads. But there’s something about it. You’re looking for clues, tiny bits of pottery, changes in the soil color. Anything that tells you a story. For days, it was mostly just dirt and more dirt. We found some bits of old pots, nothing too wild, but enough to keep spirits up. You catalog everything, every little scrap. Bag it, tag it. That’s the routine.
Hitting Something Good
Then, I think it was the second week, my trowel just scraped on something flat. Not a rock, different sound. Smoother. My heart did a little jump, I tell you. I brushed away the loose soil, very, very gently. And there it was. A tiny piece of colored stone. Then another next to it. And another. Tesserae, they call 'em. The little bits that make up a mosaic.
I called over the supervisor, trying to sound all calm, but inside I was buzzing. He came over, had a look, and just nodded slowly. "Alright," he said, "looks like you've found our floor." Understatement of the year, mate!
Uncovering the Mosaics
From then on, it was even slower work. Excruciatingly slow. You can't rush uncovering a mosaic. You'll damage it for sure. We used tiny little dental picks and the softest brushes you can imagine. It was like being a surgeon, but for history. Gradually, day by day, this incredible pattern started to appear. Geometric shapes first, then some kind of border. It was like watching a photo develop in super slow motion.
We had to keep it damp too, because once those ancient materials hit the dry air after centuries buried, they can crumble. So, lots of careful spraying with water. The colors were amazing, considering how long they’d been down there. Reds, yellows, whites, blacks. You could see the craftsmanship. Someone, thousands of years ago, had painstakingly placed every single one of those tiny stones. It blows your mind a bit, really.
- First, gentle scraping with trowel to find the level.
- Then, brushing away loose soil.
- Using dental picks for the really delicate bits around the tesserae.
- Constant light spraying to keep it moist.
- And photos. So many photos at every stage.
The Bigger Picture Emerges
As we cleared more and more, we started to see the scale of it. It wasn't just one room. Oh no. We found walls, or what was left of them, bits of plaster, some even had traces of paint. It was a proper house. A fancy one, too, judging by these floors. We started to map out the rooms. This bit here, maybe a courtyard. That larger area, perhaps a dining room where they showed off their fancy mosaic to guests.
The patterns were just stunning. One section had this intricate knot design, another looked like it might have depicted some figures, though it was more damaged there. You try to piece together the story of the people who lived there. Who were they? What was their life like? These mosaics were their status symbols, their art.
Wrapping Up and Looking Back
The actual excavation part for that season eventually had to wrap up. You don't just dig it all up and take it away, not usually. A lot of it is about recording, conserving what's there, and then planning for future work. We covered the mosaics carefully with special fabric and then clean sand to protect them until the next season.
Standing there, looking at what we’d uncovered, it was quite something. All that hard work, the sore back, the dirt under my fingernails for weeks – it was all worth it. You feel like you've touched history, properly connected with people from a long, long time ago. It’s not just old stones; it’s their home. And I helped bring a little bit of it back to light. It's an experience I won't be forgetting anytime soon, that’s for sure. Makes you think, doesn't it? What we leave behind.
