by: Dominic Bush

August 7, 2015

As we make our way back to hot showers, flushable toilets, and sales tax, I want to give as accurate of a picture possible of our time in the Philippines.  So, without further adieu, I present 101 Things I (We) Did In Field School:

101. Met a group of strangers in the airport.  99. Flew across the Pacific Ocean.  98. Ate a first meal consisting of fries, fried chicken, and mango-peach pies.  97. Tried balut.  96. Went to the craziest, most insane mall ever imagined.  95. Traveled through Manila traffic.  94. Rode on a freezing bus for 9 hours on the way to Ifugao.  93. Washed dishes outside, sometimes without light, in basins.  92. Rewashed dishes because they were not up to certain standards.  91. Swept the house floors with all the bugs on it.  90. Flushed a toilet with a bucket and threw the toilet paper in a trash can.  89. Emptied said trashcans.  88. Bathed using a bucket, a scoop (tabo), and freezing water.  87. Filled drums with freezing water in anticipation of water running out.  86. Learned to use a compass.  85. Rode in/on the back of a tric.  84. Woke up to a spider, moth, ant etc. on me.  83. Was personally victimized by a giant, flying beetle.  82. Learned how many steps it took me to cover 10 meters and never used this information.  81. Saw the largest spider of my life.  80. Rode Big Blue, our favorite, somewhat reliable jeepney.  79. Crossed a river to get to the site by carefully balancing on rocks.  78. Crossed through the river after not caring anymore.  77. Excavated using a trowel, shovel, pick ax, and piece of rebar.  76. Drank rehydration salts.  75. Talked to a carabao (water buffalo).  74. Bailed out water after trenches flooded.  73. Dug barefoot because the mud made shoes impractical.  72. Mapped a unit.  71. Got excited about finding my first pot sherd.  70. Got considerably less excited after finding my 500th pot sherd.  69. Made a joke anytime a measurement was 69.  68. ACCESSIONED.  67. Got mad when small sherds were individually accessioned.  66. Potwashed, which doubled as very necessary therapy sessions.  65. Carefully excavated around faunal remains, only to break them when pulling them out.  64.  Screened.  63.  Wet screened.  62.  Gave up on screening and resorted to hand sifting.  61.  Got overly excited when burgers, donuts, or ice cream were brought to the field.  60. Washed my hands in irrigated water before lunch.  59.  Prayed for rain after lunch.  58. Struggled to set up shade tents, gave up, and asked SITMo boys to do it.  57. Learned plastic green rope can fix anything.  56. Ate pig ears and fish heads.  55. Argued with a supervisor.  54.  Roasted a pig.  53. Used said pig’s bones to help identify faunal remains.  52. Drank a liter of Royal (orange soda)…or like 15.  51.  Became envious of all those who received haircuts from Ate Marlon.  50. Had the best fried chicken of my life at Saturday Market.  49. Went to church…lol.  48. Hiked to a waterfall.  47. Stayed in a traditional Ifugao house.  46. Struggled to sleep in a traditional Ifugao house because of the bugs that were also staying there.  45. Followed Doc through a “shortcut” on the way out of the Batad terraces.  44. Almost collapsed during/after hike out of Batad.  43. Played an impromptu game of twister in the jeepney ride home from Batad.  42. Agreed to go to the Rice Festival, I mean Rice Ritual.  41. Hiked to the ritual in flip-flops (Okay I didn’t but it was a treat watching the rest do so).  40. Witnessed a pig sacrifice.             39. Drank rice wine.  38.  Engaged in and arguably won a splash war with the local kids at the pool in Kiangan.  37. Bought pineapple out of the back of a truck.  36. Sang videoke.  35. Ate meat on a stick.  34. Rode on a bus for 8 hours to the beach.  33. Met Dr. Ting, and I’ll leave it at that.  32. Played Never Have I Ever, and learned a lot about the other members of IAP.  31. Was never more excited for McDonald’s.  30. Laughed at the thought of turning in a research paper.  29. Came to love Yanna (the dog) despite her fleas, mange, stench, and destructiveness.            28. Listened to A LOT of Taylor Swift.  27. Reconstructed Pots.  26. Learned about Guam courtesy of Mariana.  25. Opened bottles with a spoon.  24. Became a large financial supporter of Ate Pauline’s sari-sari (variety) store.  23. Fried my computer, Megan also knows the pain.         22. Thoroughly enjoyed whenever any IAP member dressed up in traditional Ifugao clothes, especially the G-string.  21. Celebrated two member’s birthdays.  20. Had my future read through tarot cards.  19. Watched and participated in a traditional Ifugao dance ceremony.        18. Flotation.  17. 1738.  16. Became very familiar with Justin Bieber’s “Where Are U Now,” and Demi Lovato’s “Cool for the Summer.”  15. Made sure I knew where my tupperwear was at all times.  14. Owed my life to SITMo on numerous occasions.  13. Wiped all my documents on my USB and threw a chair; Rico taught me that outlet.  12. Stressed out about writing research paper.  Bought and ate an entire box of Choco Mucho candy bars.  11. Fell in love with squash balls and siopao (meat bun).  10. Emperador, Ginebra, and San Miguel.  9. Enjoyed some of the best food of my life thanks to Uncle Johnny.  8. Wrote a research paper.  7.  Attempted to break curfew, just so I could sit downstairs and talk to other IAP members for an extra 15 minutes.      6. Presented at the National Museum.  5. Went to the Imperial Ice Bar.  4. Felt strange taking hot showers and flushing toilets at the hotel in Manila.  3. Choked up saying goodbyes.  2. Did not recognize the Manila airport the second time around.  1. Made friends for life and memories I’ll never forget. 

So even if there’s not a next time, I will always remember that time I spent my summer in the Philippines with 20 something strangers digging holes in mud as one of the best experiences of my life.  Signing out. 

by: Jenny Xia

Today, July 14th, was the last day of excavation for the 2015 field season. Of our four trenches, all had excavation and profile mapping work to complete. Trench 16 work was completed, and the unit crew members backfilled. Trench 17 produced a plan view map and profile maps of the north, east, south, and west walls. Trench 15 reached 100 centimeters below surface, took sediment samples for flotation, removed features, and mapped the unit. Both Trenches 17 and 15 plan to backfill tomorrow, thus closing the units.

I am a crew member of Trench 14. Rain had started falling in the night through early morning, and we arrived at a muddy, wet trench. We removed mud, attempted to control the underground leak from the west wall, took the floor to 90 centimeters, hand-screened the sediment, and bisected the feature uncovered the day before. Identified by a marked change in soil color on a level surface, the feature seemed to be a pit dug into older surrounding sediment. We dug down on the bisected portion until we reached the sterile, yellowish, sandy soil. We also uncovered a leak at 129 centimeters and a small tunnel or hole near the depth of the sterile soil. After photographing the bisected feature and creating a profile map, we proceeded to take down the other half of the feature. We noticed a large potsherd projecting from the southern wall of the feature, and upon discovering additional closely-located, embedded potsherds, we concluded that these potsherds were in association and possibly indicated a whole pot close to the feature.

With the decision of a project director, we prioritized this potential new feature and concentrated efforts on exposing and removing it from the ground. With greater efficiency and rotation of crew members, we slowly exposed edges and rims of multiple pots. Additional crew members from other trenches came over to help, and by 1500, we had removed the associated potsherds in one clump and placed it in a wide basin to be transported to the house for further work. Several Save the Ifugao Terraces Movement volunteers carried the heavy basin over rock walls, through waist-high vegetation, across a river, and up slopes to the jeepney; I appreciate their commitment to the project and needed assistance.

Back at the house, the undergraduate crew members and graduate leaders began chores. On the chore rotation, my group of three undergraduate students was assigned to excavation for the evening. We catalogued potsherds, faunal remains, and other small artifacts according to the National Museum of the Philippines protocol. This work is a multi-step process with great importance to recording some of our findings. Our method of recording accession numbers on the artifacts is painting a strip of correction fluid on the artifacts, writing accession numbers on this strip, and applying clear nail polish over it. Thus, these additions are reversible and removable.

By: Rico Pagulayan

It was pitch black inside the traditional Ifugao home as the other undergrad boys and I started settling in for the night. Our first day in Batad had come to a close, and we had the amazing opportunity to sleep in one of these homes. With the soft, hushed darkness of the mountain night in full force, it seemed as if there was nothing left to do but go to bed and have some much needed rest. Yet, as we heard the distant clicks of bats, the steady chirping of crickets, and the isolated yelping of dogs, it did not take long to brood a feeling of isolation and unease – it was a perfect night for ghost stories.

I kicked off the story circle with stories of the ghouls and spirits of Filipino folklore. What better way, I thought, to scare people, than to tell them about creatures that might very well be lurking right outside our dwelling. First, came the aswang, a flesh-eating ghoul with a taste for human body parts. Second, was the manananggal, a vampire-witch who cruises the night sky using its bat-like wings, searching for sleeping victims from which it can feed. Then, I recounted tales of elementals and restless spirits who follow the unsuspecting back to their homes and reeking havoc. If I didn’t spook any of the other guys, I surely did spook myself.

The stories kept coming and coming as each one of us took turns recounting our own tales. Now and then, I’d bury myself deeper into my blanket to warm my chilled limbs, and hide my feet from whatever might wish to grab it. The night in that traditional Ifugao home was just so pristine, unaffected by the artificial glow of electricity, that each ghost story came alive in front of my eyes as if my imagination acted as a projector into the night. The velvet black darkness made me want to believe in them, awakening my inborn human curiosity for the unknown and the unseen.

With each story of ghost children, phantom hikers, and angry ancestral spirits, I couldn’t help but check the dark corners of the room now and then to see if we were no longer alone. What’s more is that the Ifugao home acted as an amplifier for sounds coming from the outdoors. The ghostly squawking of a night bird flying by with steady wing beats painted images of the vampire-witch; a small, chirping bat innocently resting on our roof transformed into the fiendish aswang, trying to break into the house to eat us. Such pristine, “natural,” night, I guess, has a way of making you pay attention to your environment.

Yet, surprisingly, that night in Batad was perfect for ghost stories not so much in that it was dark and eerie, but in that it was peaceful. Everything about that night was calm, from the air to the fluidity of the very darkness. The shadows and hushed tones of the mountain night strengthened our camaraderie as undergrad boys as we all went about telling tales, feeling chills from the same story, and enjoying the peacefulness and simplicity of a night closer to nature.

 

by: Glenys Ong

This morning I had the privilege of having breakfast while sitting on a terrace wall, looking out at the stunning amphitheatre that is the Batad rice terraces. We spent last night in traditional Ifugao houses, which are much roomier on the inside than they seem. I woke up to the sounds and smells of breakfast being made under the floor of the raised hut.

Our mission for the day was to split into four teams to make the most of our short time in Batad. One team stayed in the valley digging a test pit to determine the potential for future excavations, and another hiked the terraces to collect geographic information. I was in one of two groups that headed straight up the mountain, where we were to learn about human osteology. The other observed a pig slaughter and the cultural practices around it.

The remains being examined belonged to Marlon Martin’s ancestors, and the house we visited was his first cousin’s. Before Adam and Dr. Kiko could start their work, however, the tomb had to be opened by chipping away at the headstone. It was a little uncomfortable watching a process that seemed so intrusive, but IAP had received consent from the Martin family, the community and the village shaman before beginning our investigation. I also learnt that reopening a tomb was not an unfamiliar process in Batad, as families retrieve, care for and re-inter an ancestor’s bones every 10 to 20 years.

Marlon’s cousins brought a small, neat bundle out of the family tomb, wrapped in a woven cloth with a red and black pattern. The cloth was dusty and had begun to decay. A new clean cloth with the same colors and patterns was laid down, which Marlon explained was used only for highly respected individuals in the community.  Once the bones were unwrapped, Adam and Dr, Kiko worked quickly, as they had promised the family. They laid the bones out on the new cloth, reassembling it in the standard anatomical position. Their priorities were to clean and inventory the bones of the skeleton, measure the long bones and take note of any irregularities or indications of disease. The focus was on studying the overall robustness of the individual to learn about nutrition and health as it related to political change over time.

Having studied osteology, being able to apply that knowledge in the field was really exciting for me. I took notes for Adam, who pointed out characteristics and pathology I had never seen in person. One of the things I like most about human osteology is how a person’s life story can be told through their bones, and that we can recreate their movements and how they might have felt, even with the smallest of markers. Both sets of remains we looked at suggested that Marlon’s ancestors had been strong and healthy men, very accustomed to climbing the steep terraces that we had barely been able to manage. Their femurs had three trochanters instead of the usual two, indicating robust muscles in the legs. Adam had found the same third trochanter in another set of Martin remains, so there could be a genetic basis for that trait as well. It also seemed that both men suffered very painful osteoarthritis later in life. Several joints were eburnated, meaning that cartilage had worn away leaving bone to rub together. To defend itself, the body had grown additional bone at the joints, leaving behind spurs and frothy-looking growth.

A really interesting discussion was spurred by the observation that in the second set of remains, the space between the mandibular condyles was wider than the tempromandibular joints, basically meaning that the jaw didn’t fit the rest of the skull. Initially, it was thought that the mandibles of the two skeletons had been mixed up, though that seemed very unlikely. However, by looking at the wear in that joint, as well as the contact between the remaining teeth and mandible, Adam and Dr. Kiko theorized that the person must have moved his jaw side-to-side in order to chew, possibly because he had so few teeth left in his old age.

The osteologists worked with the speed and efficiency of experienced professionals. It would have taken me at least twice the time to reassemble a skeleton. Once we were finished, Marlon’s family took over to carefully wrap the bones and return them to their resting place. I really valued the opportunity I had today, not just to observe the scientific process of measuring and examining bones, but also to learn the importance of ethics in human osteology and the respect that should be accorded to the people we study. It was good to interact directly with their descendants and understand the importance of ancestral bones and burial practices in the community.

 

by: Megan Moran

My heart swells with excitement and gratitude as my senses feast on the beauty of the Jeepney ride from Kiangan to Batad. We drive through the province on a newly paved highway, passing by homes and people going about their lives. Among the dense, velvety green mountain forest terraformed landscape, goats munch on the foliage and young girls play on their porches. I see my whiteness and foreign appearance reflected in their faces when they animatedly smile and wave at me as we pass by. In front of some houses along the highway, an old man carries a baby in a blanket wrapped around his chest. Further along the drive, another, much older man and I notice each other. He walks nearly horizontal, walking stick in one hand and a plastic grocery bag in the other, peering up at our Jeepney top-loaded with Americans and scholars. I admire his beard of longish grey bristle as I consider the possibilities of all of the lives he may have lived, the community he has formed in these Cordilleras, and the types of activities he could have performed to shape his posture I see so often in the elders here. Lola Marta, the elder woman who so kindly allows us to excavate on her property, shares a similarly horizontal posture, walking low and half-bent over to dutifully cultivate her crops even at such an old age. Our bodies say so much about who we are, where we come from, and the lives we lead.

            Looking out of the window of the Jeepney, breathing in the fresh mountain air, I wonder. How am I so fortunate to experience the beauty of the Ifugao province, the heritage of the Cordilleras and the rice terraces? I realize my fortunate position in this moment has mostly to do with my cultural capital as a white middle class American young woman. My cultural capital (and, of course, a little hard work) translates into amazing research opportunities and archaeological adventures. So too does the cultural capital of the rich Cordilleran heritage translate into nominal economic capital. I can’t help but feel a bit disheartened at the transactions between bodies commanding disparate levels of privilege in Banaue and Batad, two major tourist centers of the Philippines. As with the current official dating of Banaue as a 2,000-year old UN World Heritage Site, tourism in the region produces a romanticized indigeneity.

            The IAP group witnessed, and to an extent, participated in the consumption of this romanticized Ifugao indigeneity at the tourist home stay we dropped in for lunch. Over cups of “native coffee” and lemongrass tea, we quickly notice photos of people dressed in traditional Ifugao attire posted on the wall in the dining area. Already feeling a little uncomfortable at the sight of the staged photos, a family emerged from what must be the costume room, fully dressed in the most traditional Ifugao ensemble. The daughter and mother match in woven shirts and tied skirts. The son and father wear woven cloth “g-strings”, headdresses, and carry wooden staffs. As a group of anthropologists, we become fascinated by the dystopic spectacle. The Norwegian family costumed as traditional Ifugaos were very glad to have their photo taken by me when I asked. The mother looked of Filipino descent, her husband very clearly a white Norwegian. What could these photos and the act of dressing up Ifugao mean to them? Do they notice that nearly no other local in Batad is dressed in such costume? How is indigeneity demanded, produced, and consumed, and what are the implications?

 

by: Matthew Ordinario

Our first full day of work this week so far! A number of unfortunate occurrences involving bad weather had prevented us from getting to the field on Monday, and forced us to return home before lunchtime on Tuesday. While a break every once in a while is sometimes appreciated, missing days of work right after a weekend made everyone eager to return to the field, if only to spend time with fewer people around.

Today was a big day in terms of our group organization. First, our house assignment crews got switched around. I was put in group two of the rotation along with Rico, Bo, and Alasdair. Because I was switched from group four to group two in the rotation, instead of being on pot washing like I had hoped, I had instead been put on dishes duty which seems to be universally hated by everyone who has to do it. The seemingly never-ending work that comes with dishes duty crushes the morale of most who are assigned to it on that specific day; however I don’t really see it that way. Instead, I would give that description to accessioning the artifacts we find. Having to sort out the artifacts and label them all feels very tedious, even though it is very important to keep track of everything we dig up in the field.

The second change was that our trench assignments got switched up. From what I heard, the shuffling of unit assignments was actually supposed to happen yesterday, but since we had visitors at the site it was decided that we were to keep our original groups so that we could better relay information about our trenches and what we’ve found in them.

While the rearrangement of the house assignment crews was a minor change in my mind, it was the switching of units in the field that probably affected me the most. At the end of last week I finally felt that my unit’s work dynamics had improved and that we were getting a lot more comfortable working together. Today, my unit was assigned to Trench 15 and was formed by Alexis, Eddie, Sopheara, and myself with Ellie as our graduate student supervisor. Today we were also joined by Jared, another graduate student who usually does the mapping but had finished his work early. While I initially had reservations about how our group work flow would form in the beginning of the day, I grew a lot more comfortable as the day went on. I believe that because we had already gotten better at all the different jobs around the trenches, we were able to adapt our own work styles with our new group mates and reach a sort of harmony easier than the first time we had to do it.

My assignment to Trench 15 had seemed like a letdown to me at first since it was the trench closest to my old assignment, Trench 14. I had expected to run into many of the same issues I had run into before: flooding and a whole lot of mud. Furthermore, due to the close proximity of Trenches 14 and 15, I thought that I would also face the same issue of hitting large earthenware sherds and numerous bones every time I would try to dig. When we had first started finding artifacts almost right away at Trench 14, I was very excited because I was looking forward to finding literally anything as I dug deeper into the ground. This excitement peaked when we had found three pots in the trench, and fell off shortly afterwards as it became very tedious to find bones or sherds when we dug. It slowed down our work a lot since we would always try to recover everything as intact as possible. In Trench 15, we ran into what seemed to be the opposite problem. While the people assigned to the trench before us had found many sherds and faunal remains, we ended up finding little of note besides half a bag of sherds and some small bones and teeth. Even sifting through the dirt we removed from the trench seemed like a fruitless endeavor as it would almost always just be clumps of semi-dry mud. However, even though we didn’t find too many artifacts today, the ability to dig freely and quickly felt like a very welcome change from my previous situation.

One final event of note happened today. This would be the last night that Alasdair would be spending with us before leaving to attend a different archaeological project. We had a small celebration for the anniversary of his birth after dinner in which pastries and ice cream were served along with a healthy dose of alcohol for people who wanted some. Over the past three weeks I felt that everyone had bonded so much from living and working together, and seeing Alasdair go will feel like something is missing in the house and in the field. Alasdair marks the first of many departures. Our two members from Cambodia, Komnet and Sopheara, will be leaving us on Saturday, and then all of us will part ways on August 5. Even though our field season is nearly halfway over, it feels like we have just started working. The physical work may be hard and the heat may be strong day after day, but I definitely feel that this experience will be something I will miss when I return to America.

by Alasdair Chi

It is with mixed feelings that I write this blog post, the last of my limited participation in this field school. By this time tomorrow I will have reunited with my parents and will soon be starting on my holiday in Negros Oriental, where I will reconnect with long-lost acquaintances. This reunion, however, brings with it my farewell to the Ifugao Archaeological Project, and I am certain my reminisces will begin even with my arduous overnight journey to Manila, which I understand is now enduring a flood.

In my time here, I have learnt that, although I have been on field schools before, there are always new techniques and new perspectives to learn. My previous field schools have generally been conducted under the direction of British or Australian project directors, and as a result are laid out along paradigms developed there. The American anthropological and level-based focus are thus new understandings to me. With every new project, I have been exposed to new conditions, and walking along the perilous terrace walls and crossing the river to site is a renewed experience every time.

The conditions out in the field have been variable, but the adaptability and resilience of my teammates never ceases to impress me, as we shed our shoes to step and plod in flooded rice fields to get into our (frequently also flooded) trenches, or try in vain to (literally) keep our shade on its last legs. Each day brings a new surprise, and being rained on today - just as I was planning to pack - was an unwelcome one, but nonetheless, it is simply yet another change to which I will have to apply the same versatility which my fellow undergraduates have applied to the living and digging conditions.

Before we head out to the field and after we return, there is still work to do, in the form of accessioning, pot-washing, cleaning and dish-washing. Each of these brings with it its own challenges and difficulties (especially tedium), but we aim to work together and groups help each other out to clear our work and get the house in order before we leave the house and before the end of the day. Equipment tends to be in a super-state of existence and non-existence until we attempt to observe it, which usually results in the latter outcome. Nevertheless, to those with whom I have worked in the trenches and in the house, thank you for all your help and especially your patience.

We have been able to pepper our work with leisure and recreation, and heading to the pool, the Video-Ke, the town of Kiangan and the city of Lagawe brings with it new experiences and new entertainment every time, as well as discovering our team-mate's (varying) singing talents and new culinary delights such as barbecued meat on a stick late at night after revelry at the Video-Ke or Wazzap Pizza (and usually overindulging in these.)

My only regret (or at least one of a few) is that I am unable to see this season through to the finish; I have no research design with which to apply the data we collect and I will not be presenting these findings, unlike the rest of my team-mates. Even as of today, three new features are now emerging from my former trench, and I won't truly know what they are (or are theorised to be) unless I read the report in the future or catch up with the friends I have made here.

Had I more time I surely would have stayed on to gain closure on this field school; nonetheless, inasmuch as this is a day of endings, it is also one of beginnings. To quote Ian Fleming quoting Jack London in You Only Live Twice (vaguely apropos given my British background in this American field school), "I shall not waste my days in trying to prolong them. I shall use my time." This time will shortly be spent in new projects elsewhere, in Europe, but even as I make new acquaintances and absorb new experiences from them, I will be bringing my memories and my lessons learned from Ifugao, the IAP and all its participants to each of them.

Entry Writer: Ricardo (Rico) Pagulayan

Nothing – again, nothing. We had been digging in Unit 13 for three days now, and all we had to show for it were three sherds of pottery, sherds that even our graduate students, Ellie and Marie, were not excited about. According to Dr. Acabado, the site’s content was most likely landfill from sometime ago, and unsurprisingly, he seemed right. Day after day, the team, consisting of Sterling, Bo, and the two aforementioned graduate students, as well as myself has hit nothing but rock, clay, and some smelly soil that reeked heavily of water buffalo dung. Even then, it seemed, Dr. Acabado and Adam were going to make us keep digging deeper in Unit 13 anyway.

Then, out of nowhere, Adam came hurrying towards the Unit 13 crew, hard at work of course, telling us, “Hurry, hurry, get all of your stuff, you are going to start another trench right now!” Tired of seeing a bottomless pit of rock and clay, I think I can speak for all members of the Unit 13 crew when I say that we all excitedly grabbed our tools, relieved and ready to finally leave Unit 13. We then followed Adam across several rice terraces, balancing, yet still managing to scurry on thin terrace walls, headed towards a wooded area to the east of Unit 13. We were told that we would be excavating at Lola Martha’s yard, and our new unit would be called Unit 16.

Arriving at Lola Martha’s yard, we saw that the earth we would be excavating was dry and hard. What’s more was that there was no shade, and we were definitely not excited to fry under the sun. Nonetheless, we quickly measured and staked our 2x2 meter excavation area, and after back stringing the stakes together, we got right to troweling Unit 16, breaking the surface at last. Yet, I can’t fail to mention that, again, the SITMO guys (Edson, George, Mr. Martin, and Ton-Ton) came to our rescue once more, bringing some tarp that they rapidly made into a shade over our unit. We could finally excavate a little bit more comfortably.

The SITMO guys got right in the unit with us as well, helping us to trowel away the first 10 centimeters off the surface. Right away, down approximately two centimeters below surface, we started to find many, many sherds of clay pottery. One, two, three, another one, then another one, and more, and more – we found so many sherds that from zero to 10 centimeters below surface, we had already filled three large Ziploc bags with them. The Unit 16 crew collected the sherds right as we found them in the trench, but, since the team was also screening the excavated dirt of cultural material, the screening team too was finding loads and loads of broken pottery.

Additionally, sometime after our lunch break, the team was also made aware of our site’s oral history. Apparently, Unit 16’s location was never used as a terrace for growing crops, and therefore, could very well have supported habitation areas for the Old Kiyyangan Village. Dr. Acabado and Adam believe that the crew would have to penetrate first through this rock pavement in order to finally get to a layer containing cultural deposits from Old Kiyyangan Village. In fact, Dr. Acabado mentioned at one point that excavation of Unit 16 would probably reach 1.5 meters.

As the team continued to dig, working away to reach our goal of excavating 20 centimeters below surface, the SITMO guys stayed with us, digging and moving the dirt to be screened. We continued to find a plethora of clay potsherds, ranging from thumbnail sized ones to larger sherds measuring three or more centimeters in diameter, most of which were rim sherds. When the crew finally reached our desired depth of 20 centimeters below surface, we had filled up 6.5 large Ziploc bags with potsherds. At 3:00 p.m., with the hot sun still high in the sky, we were content to call it a day.

Digging with Dr. Acabado and Adam in the Ifugao Archaeological Project is my first ever participation in a field school, and with a hands-on approach to archaeology in general. Unit 16 was therefore extremely, extremely exciting for me, not only because finally, we were finding cultural material, but also because it was exhilarating to finally see results! To be completely honest, excavation is no easy or comfortable task, but even under the midday sun, starting to tire and thirst, the excitement of finding cultural deposits was enough to remind why I was there – I had a burning curiosity to know more about the Philippines’ cultural history, and a great interest in archaeology in general. Granted, not all excavations will yield desired results, as seen in Unit 13, but with excavating, you just can never be for sure. You just have to dig, and keep digging!

 

 

By: Glenys Ong

One thing I never expected about field school is how much of it would be set to music. I’ve found that most of the fieldwork process – from digging to the cleaning and documenting of artifacts – can be done and even improved by a great playlist. During the jeepney rides back and forth to the site, most of us have earphones in listening to our own music. Sometimes I listen to the music I grew up with – since we’re living in such close quarters and working with the same small group of people for nearly two months, it’s been important to me to get back into my own head every once in a while, to keep myself grounded and take a step back to process everything. More recently, I’ve been repeating my jeepney ride music to try and build associations with certain songs. I’d like to listen to them in the future and remember little things about field school, like the loose rocks of a terrace wall, the dirt on my knees as I crawl around in the trench, or the jolt of the jeepney as it goes over unpaved road. 

Today marks the second week we’ve spent in the Philippines and the first week of fieldwork at the Old Kiyyangan Village. In such a foreign environment, it’s been all about adjusting and adapting, and finding the best way to do things. Every day I notice things getting easier as it slowly slips into a routine. Our first walk to our work site seemed treacherous, taking us through different kinds of terrain. We had to climb up steep slopes of mud, teeter across narrow planks of wood, ford rivers and streams, and cross several bridges. The journey was so varied and precarious that it reminded me of a maze in a puzzle book, where a character might have to wade through a swamp and avoid crocodiles to get an antidote from the opposite bank, or something equally adventurous and dramatic. After a few days of experience, however, the trip that once seemed scary turned into a pleasant walk. The stone walls I had once carefully navigated can now be crossed in a quick stride. I’ve almost gotten it down to a science, remembering specific rocks that are the most steady and dependable. Recently, Dr. Acabado and the SITMo volunteers have found us an easier and even more scenic path back to the jeepney, which we’re all grateful for. I’ve adapted my field gear as well, after attempting to cover every bit of exposed skin and feeling swampy and uncomfortable instead. I’ve decided to embrace the sun and the mud, and have traded in my long-sleeved shirts and hiking boots for loose-fitting t-shirts and bare feet, a kind of Lamarckian adaptation to the heat and humidity of the jungle.

Our trench has been rich with earthenware sherds and bone artifacts, to the extent that I can barely move my trowel without coming into contact with something new. It’s a happy problem, and a far cry from our first few days in the field when we were tasked with digging a shovel test pit to a depth of 75 centimetres. Three days of work yielded absolutely nothing, except a small rock slightly bigger than my thumb. Still, our little test pit was essential in determining the extent of the village and was a good opportunity to practice troweling skills before tackling a larger trench. It was also much easier to document our work, since there was very little to note. We’re now spoiled for choice with the amount of artifacts we’re finding. It’s sometimes a little tedious to stop troweling for a small fragment of ceramic or bone, but honestly every find is always new and exciting. As someone interested in human osteology, I was thrilled to find our first bone in the trench. So far, we’ve only uncovered faunal remains, but it’s still been really useful to learn how to differentiate them, and fun to guess what animals they might have belonged to. Yesterday’s theory was dragons and aliens, though we might have to do DNA testing to confirm that.

Outside of the field, it’s been an absolute pleasure working with the other undergraduates, graduate students and faculty on the team. I feel like I’ve known my classmates for months or years, though it’s been just two weeks. Our teachers take their time to make sure we’re growing and learning, and never get impatient with us. Every so often we get little treats, like ice cream after a particularly sunny day of work, donuts from Lagawe, or a round of beer on Doc. I’ve found myself feeling really happy and grateful for all the little moments. It’s kind of amazing how thoughtful and considerate everyone has been. The first two weeks have surpassed all expectations, and I’m really looking forward to what comes next.