Eric Cline writes:
Today we found the first fragment of painted wall plaster of the season. The first pictures below were the first available; better ones can be seen further below.
…the discoverer, Melissa Cradic, who just happens to be working on a GW Luther Rice Fellowship on the painted frescoes at Tel Kabri…!
(rear of fragment)
Eric Cline writes:
The second week rocks!:
Walls!: 
Plaster floors with flat-lying pottery!:
Wall plaster, possibly painted!:
Melissa Benbow writes:
“Is this pottery?”
“Nope. Sorry. Just a rock.”
“Ooooh, I think I found bone!”
“Hmmm… I’m pretty sure that’s just plastic.”
“Wow! What’s this?!”
“Uh… part of your shoelace, I believe.”
Day 3 of digging in D West West and we don’t have much in the way of
artifacts except for some pottery sherds, teeny bone fragments and
bits of shell. Exciting stuff, sure, but what we really have our
hearts set on finding is wall plaster. It should be where we are
digging, if the palace walls collapsed where we think they did. It’s
been a few exhausting days of pickaxing in the hot sun, but now we
have shades up and it’s a surprisingly cool day, making our work a bit
easier. Still, it sometimes takes the first significant find to
really motivate me, and I imagine many others.
Finally, I come across something that looks unfamiliar. My gut tells
me to ask our area supervisor Nurith about it rather than just throw
it in the pottery bucket. I think that it just may be a piece of the
sought-after wall plaster. I approach her and ask, “Is this pottery?
Or,” (more quietly and with hope), “…perhaps wall plaster?”
She only has to glance at it before answering. “Yes! We have wall plaster!”
Success! A small celebration follows, consisting mostly of people
taking elevations and photographs.
Finding the first bit of wall plaster in our area made my day, but of
course it’s quickly back to work because there is much more just
waiting for us to uncover!
"Is this pottery?"
"Nope. Sorry. Just a rock."
"Ooooh, I think I found bone!"
"Hmmm... I'm pretty sure that's just plastic."
"Wow! What's this?!"
"Uh... part of your shoelace, I believe."
Day 3 of digging in D West West and we don't have much in the way of
artifacts except for some pottery sherds, teeny bone fragments and
bits of shell. Exciting stuff, sure, but what we really have our
hearts set on finding is wall plaster. It should be where we are
digging, if the palace walls collapsed where we think they did. It's
been a few exhausting days of pickaxing in the hot sun, but now we
have shades up and it's a surprisingly cool day, making our work a bit
easier. Still, it sometimes takes the first significant find to
really motivate me, and I imagine many others.
Finally, I come across something that looks unfamiliar. My gut tells
me to ask our area supervisor Nurith about it rather than just throw
it in the pottery bucket. I think that it just may be a piece of the
sought-after wall plaster. I approach her and ask, "Is this pottery?
Or," (more quietly and with hope), "...perhaps wall plaster?"
She only has to glance at it before answering. "Yes! We have wall plaster!"
Success! A small celebration follows, consisting mostly of people
taking elevations and photographs.
Finding the first bit of wall plaster in our area made my day, but of
course it's quickly back to work because there is much more just
waiting for us to uncover!
Emily Bates writes:
Digging on site today, Eric, Assaf and my crew digging in D-West-West discovered that archaeologists would make pretty good mixologists as well. This is what we came up with:
Kabreeze: A cocktail of lemon, mint and vodka (Perfect Vodka works best), garnished with an avocado.
Kabrito: Like a mohito, only better: white rum, sugar cane juice, lime, carbonated water, and mint. Again, garnish with an avocado.
Mud Brick: Bailey’s, Kahlua, Vodka and milk. Garnish with maraschino cherries and serve in a glass rimmed with chocolate.
Destruction Horizon: A shot of coffee liqueur, Tabasco and Bailey’s. Top off with Bailey’s 151 and light on fire (like a flaming B-52). Drink at your own risk.
Dirty Archaeologist: Similar to a dirty martini, but substitute capers for olives.
Minoan Fresco: Blue curacao, St. Germain and champagne. Garnish with a miniature bull-leaper.
Kabritini: Arrack, Vermouth and Kina Lillet (or similar bronze-colored alcohol). Garnish with an olive.
We also excavated some more this week. But maybe someone else will blog about that.
Sarah Plovanich writes:
Life in the Eastern Mediterranean has been eternally influenced by food. Olive and fig trees are just as common in Israel as an American Maple or an Oak in the Midwest. Rosemary and the rest of the Herbs of Provence team line the streets of Jerusalem the way a hedge might decorate dead space between sidewalk and parking lots back home. The fruit bearing trees and fragrant herbs, native to the area, have been Israeli staples for centuries.
With one full week of digging in a site encompassed by avocado trees behind us, we have unearthed a wealth of pottery fragments most likely used for storing food and drink. Burnt olive pits and goat remnants litter our square showing proof of a healthy Mediterranean diet. The members of this Middle Bronze site situated their palace near the fertile area ideal for consuming.
Today, food is still a central focus at Kabri. Our work hours are broken up based on mealtimes. Glorious meals. Olives and figs are certainly on the menu with almost every meal, but the options have increased. A wonderful breakfast with tuna and cucumbers, hummus and tomatoes breaks up the mid morning and gives us both nutrients and incentive. Delicious dinners are always garnished with beet salads, cabbage and watermelon and the famous lunches are beyond expectations. The numerous and colorful options fill a table and never seem to go empty for too long. Dates, caramelized garlic, beans, cheese and mushrooms make up varied, authentic salads. No matter the time of day, you can find someone who is thinking about the lunches.
Phil Karash writes:
So the first week of the dig was over a lot faster than I thought it would be. It took a couple days to get used to waking up just before 4:00am and then putting in around seven hours of digging in the heat, but I have to say it’s great here. The kibbutz has great food, there’s a pool, and we have air-conditioning (which we are thankful for every day). In D South 1, this past week has been full of pick axing, hoeing with terias, and learning the fine art of the bucket line. As the week went on, we started finding more pieces of pottery until we came upon what appears to be a wall on Thursday. At least we hope it’s a wall and not just some stones that lined up to aggravate us. After an initial few days of silent working in the heat, we’ve begun getting to know each other, making jokes throughout the day, and finding ways to even make a horrendously long bucket line to be funny as we try our best at acapella karaoke.
This weekend the majority of us made are way to Jerusalem. Taking a rental car was an experience in and of itself as we found ourselves lost in Tel Aviv and then driving around Jerusalem looking for a parking space. I stayed at the Petra Hostel right next to the Jaffa Gate. We spent our weekend shopping, wandering around the city, and getting some amazing food. I’ve never been to Israel before, so the street markets and the historic sites here were very different from everything I’ve seen before. To see the Western Wall in person, surrounded by hundreds of people praying during Shabbat is overwhelming, as the emotion in the air is near palpable. We also took the Rampart Walk, which was definitely worth the 15 NIS. It took around two hours to circle the city on the wall (which we decided to do during the hottest part of the day), but the views were incredible. At the very end we saw waves of people exit the area near the Dome of the Rock into a street of vendors hawking their wares passersby. The air was filled with voices haggling over prices and the shouts of the merchants calling in customers.
I can’t wait to begin the second week of digging (and get over this cold I’ve had – and have given to everyone else on the dig). Hopefully, there will be a ton to discover under the avocado grove!
Emily Bates writes:
So I’ve made it to Israel, safe and sound. I was very unexcited to arrive at 2am and sleep on the cold marble floor of the airport for several hours, but after arriving at the kibbutz and showering, I got a bit more excited about being here. It’s pretty interesting to be staying in a kibbutz (although I admit to only vaguely understanding the concept), there’s a pool and the food so far has been great. Especially lunch.
I haven’t excavated anything in six months and my muscles are definitely feeling it. I don’t like getting up at 4 am and it’s too hot, but it’s great to be back in the field. So far, we’ve been cleaning up the site to get ready to excavate, but we’ve already found a few walls and some nice orthostats. I’ve also seen two (apparently not poisonous) scorpions, a snake and I had a frog jump up inside my pants, causing me to spill most of my breakfast.
The area of site I’m going to be working in is the western extent of the palace. We’ll be looking to see if this area is the outer edge of the palace or if the palace extends further. As well, we’re hoping to find more painted plaster in this area, which I’m definitely excited about. One of my main archaeological interests is in looking at Aegean influences outside of the Aegean and it’s the reason I wanted to come to Tell Kabri.
So this coming week I’m looking forward to moving into the palace area, meeting more nice people and maybe even swinging a trip to Jerusalem this weekend.
Paula Martino writes:
Do you know what I love most about this dig? The heart-healthy gourmet breakfast I get every morning on the tel! What heart wouldn’t skip a beat (or simply stop dead in its tracks) when it’s served a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with a heaping side of cottage cheese, a medley of tomato, cucumber, and olives finished with a juicy slice of watermelon? Mmmmm, mmmmmm, that’s good eatin’!
Watch out Le Cirque, you’ve got some competition now.
Katerina Begetis, who will be joining us on the second session, writes:
My new shoes came in today, and while I know that may sound uneventful, trust me, it was quite the arrival.
It’s a Friday, which means that the restaurant will be busy; it’s an overcast Friday, which means it will be positively slammed busy; and it’s June 19th; the weekend most of the first session digger’s are departing for Israel. As I’m trudging through the restaurant this morning, (sluggishly of course, having come off of a busy Thursday) getting ready to open, I was hit by jealousy. “Why am I still here?” “It’s not fair…” “Stupid work…” kept racing through my head like a mantra. My mood was turning more sour by the minute, but I was trying to keep my crankiness down to a minimum – Dad would NOT appreciate it.
Eleven o’clock drew near and so did the beginning of hell. Corporate lunch orders were being faxed in, and take out orders called in, and overall just a lot of food being prepped. It was during this lunch rush that IT happened:
“Kat, there’s a package for you!” I hear my sister yell downstairs where I’m in the basement office I lovingly call the Dungeon, waiting for a new fax order to finish printing.
My heart stood still…I glanced up at her and saw my Dad was not around. Quicker than I thought possible, I raced up the stairs, snatched the box out of her hands, and gave her one quick simple instruction: “You don’t know where I am.”
Just as quickly I was back in the office tearing open the box. I finally got it open, and what I saw took my breath away: the most perfect pair of hiking shoes I have ever seen. My very first pair of dig shoes. I pulled one out and was cradling it in my hands when I heard stirring above and the distinct “Where is your sister?!?” I know so well. Knowing my time was almost out, I made the decision that would haunt me until tonight (if not later…); I tried the shoe on.
It was the perfect fit. The most adorable shoe in the world. The cutest boot imaginable. The absolutely greatest footwear…you get the point. I was in the middle of these musings when the office door slammed open. I will never forget the look on my Dad’s face; so shocked that it couldn’t even register. It’s like the one thing I’ve been raised to know – absolutely, never, in no way, shape, or form, get distracted by anything during a Friday lunch rush. The faxed order was still sitting in the printer; oops.
“Wow, phew! Finally done printing thats great!” I improvised, jetting to my feet. “Ran out of ink, it did” I rambled on, grabbing the sheets and side stepping around him. “Stupid, stupid printer…” I raced up the stairs back into the kitchen. Dropping the orders off to my sister, I resumed my job of making pizza’s. It was then I realized I still had one of my hiking shoes on; and there was absolutely NO WAY I would be making my way downstairs to remedy the situation. Hoping it wasn’t too conspicuous, (wishful thinking since my hiking shoe was twice the size of my work shoe so I’m hobbling around the pizza station) I went about my business for the next 45 minutes or so, avoiding eye contact with my father.
As I finished slicing the last pizza out of the oven, I heard a throat clearing right behind me. Uh oh… I look up to find my father standing behind me with his arms crossed. “In the office, now please,” he said before turning and leading the way. I groaned out loud as my sister pointed and laughed at me from the cash register. I slowly trudged behind him, knowing my sentencing had finally arrived. I walked into the office and dropped wearily into the chair across from my father, head down, waiting for him to start speaking. When he didn’t, I glanced up. His arm was outstretched with his hand held out towards me, as if asking me to hand him something. It took a few seconds to register…my shoe! He wanted my shoe! My expression turned into one of horror as I slowly unlaced my perfect shoe. Slipping it off, I handed it over. Still silent, he meticulously repacked my shoe into its box. He then proceeded to place the box into the storage closet that only he has the key to.
“But Dad!” I started to exclaim but was cut off: “No buts – they stay in there until it is the appropriate time for them to come out. He then locked the door with a resounding click, pocketed the key, and went upstairs.
My new, beautiful, wonderful digging shoes – taken away from me so quickly. I sat for a few moments and stared at the closet – still shocked that he wouldn’t even let me stare at them for the rest of the day. I put on my work shoe again and went back upstairs. The rest of the day passed with mocking grins coming from both my Dad and sister – such cruel punishment.
As I was getting ready to leave tonight after cleaning and closing up the restaurant, my Dad came upstairs with the box in his hands. “Here you go, now you may try them on all you want,” to which everyone started laughing at me. Trust me, I was embarrassed enough to blush profusely but not embarrassed enough to grab the box and jet out the door.
So here I am, at home tonight, staring at my shoes and writing this post (embellished of course with only those types of details an author who was egregiously wronged can write). All I would like to say in sum is that this one goes out to all the Second Sessioner’s: I, too, feel your anxiety, jealousy, and anticipation. Hopefully, your feelings don’t manifest themselves into a situation as ridiculous as the one I lived today.
Eric Cline writes:
We have arrived, safe and sound, at Kibbutz Lohame HaGetaot and had a wonderful meal at Abu Christo’s in Acco, with the rest of the senior staff and assorted kids. A great welcome back…
The trip over was tough, mostly because of the rain storms that hit the East Coast during the night and early morning, just before we left. What with the hour-long delay in Dulles and the four-hour delay in JFK, it took 12 hours just from the time we left our house in Chevy Chase until the flight from New York took off for Tel Aviv…and the flight itself was another 10 hours or so, followed by retrieval of baggage, passport control, Customs, car rental, and the two-hour drive up to the kibbutz – pretty much 24 straight hours of traveling. I’m hoping that we absorbed all of the bad juju and that the other people traveling to join us will have more uneventful journeys.
On the bright side, Hannah (14) and Joshua (almost 10) are excellent travelers and we were all eager to get to the kibbutz, unpack, shower, and eat. In the morning we’ll head out to the site to see what’s what – Joshua keeps asking when he can start digging.
Assaf has already been out at the site with Druze workmen for a few days, clearing out the underbrush and growth that has sprung up in our areas since we were last there (2008 in Area D-West; 2005 in Areas D-North and D-South), but also in the southern area dug by Kempinski and Niemeier sometime between 1986 and 1993 – it looked like a jungle in there last year and it must have been even worse by now. I don’t envy them.
Among other goals for this season, we are going to try to connect the two areas, our D-South and Kempinski’s area (which might become D-South-South or the Back-40), and Assaf reports that the brush-clearing operation has already yielded results: some of Kempinski’s balks have apparently collapsed and previously-unknown walls are now visible. Looks like we’ve already got architecture and the season hasn’t even begun – this is a good omen!
Sunday will bring all of the volunteers for the first session; the bus that we’ve arranged to bring them up from the airport should be full of tired but excited people. Hopefully they won’t be too jet-lagged and the anticipation of what is to come will make up for any initial homesickness that some will undoubtedly feel. We already have our wifi system set up and running (obviously, since I’m blogging here within hours of arriving). This will allow everyone to email, Skype, and blog with loved ones back home, which should help combat any homesickness — we already Skyped with Diane back home; great to see her as if she were sitting right here!
Ah, it’s good to be back, with trowel in hand and discoveries waiting to be made! This may be a perennial migration pattern, as my friend and colleague Norma Franklin said on Facebook the other day (when the American and European archaeologists and volunteers begin to arrive in Israel, she says, she knows it must be summer), but getting out from behind a desk and swapping paperwork for dirt, sweat, and a properly-used pickaxe is going to feel so good!
Dig Kabri 2009 
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