Day 51

Last night at about 1:30 am, our esteemed colleague Katie was the victim of a spontaneous bathroom explosion. When she attempted to flush the toilet, the hose unhooked and starting spraying wildly which quickly drenched the entire bathroom. She had to turn off the water using the emergency valve which was conveniently located right next to the toilet (kind of seems like this has happened before, doesn’t it?) Per our notion of African karma, we were positive that this meant we would have an amazing day at the site. Also, the fruit salad at breakfast tasted and smelled like onions and they forgot Jenn’s coffee. We were good as gold.

Gold is not what we found. Instead, we were greeted by an anxious looking Suleiman who reported that during our 3 day absence, some brazen Maasai attempted to steal the tarp holding our back dirt. They actually went through all the trouble of shovelling our rather large pile of dirt down the side of the mountain only to be thwarted at the last minute. Our other worker, Thomas, interrupted them mid-operation and they ran off, leaving the tarp behind. However, the damage was already done. I can’t tell you how disheartening it was to see our dirt all down the side of slope. Not only does this mean that backfilling is going to take four times as long, but it will be hard not to disturb the surface artifacts eroding out of the slope. A lot of thought went into where we placed our back dirt pile so it would minimally impact the archaeological site. That’s also why we bought a tarp in the first place. In anticipation of its worth, we told the Maasai that we would give them all of our excavation tools and supplies as soon as we were finished. It’s unclear whether they thought the excavation was over, if they just grew impatient, or if this was a different group entirely. For equally ambiguous reasons, they also pulled out a lot of our nails and stacked them in a neat pile at the back of the rock shelter.

I know that as far as possible site disturbances go, we were lucky that we only lost our back dirt. The most important thing is that our open excavation trench was untouched. However, I can’t say this tarp debacle didn’t get to me. The worst part is, whoever tried to take our tarp wasn’t doing so out of malice. They almost certainly needed it to keep their home cool and dry, or likewise shelter their animals. A tarp of that size has untold value in the middle of the bush. They tried to take it because they didn’t have any other way to acquire something like that. As with many other annoying quirks in Tanzania, the underlying problem is that we are living in a broken world. How do I blame global economic inequality for stealing our tarp? Or should I direct my anger towards myself and everyone I’ve ever met for being part of the problem? The best solution is not to get angry in the first place, which is something I’m working on. After 51 days, the thousands of little injustices start to wear a person down. How do you go about fixing the cracks at the bottom when the entire system is falling apart? It’s never just about a tarp. In fact, nothing here is as simple as it seems.