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I Volunteered for This?! Life on an Archaeological Dig
opportunity to get better acquainted with one another
while we satisfied the hearty appetites we’d already
worked up.
Two of the most adventuresome of our group
were Bob and Irene Kaufman from New Jersey. That
they happened to be in their late 60’s while the average age of the group volunteer was about 21 was
beside the point. What was important was that they
became our mentors and very good friends. Bob
assumed responsibility for both breakfast and juice
breaks, and, even more important to our well-being,
saw to it that everyone drank enough water. He soon
became de facto camp manager. Irene was down in
the trenches with us, digging, brushing, cleaning. One
of the most rewarding days came when we watched
Irene unearth an unbroken, ancient juglet. The
Kaufmans wouldn’t tell anyone exactly how old they
were until the dig ended—they didn’t want special
treatment from the rest of us. They are living proof
that a person is only as old/young as one thinks, especially on an archaeological dig.
After breakfast, it was back to work until an
11:00 a.m. juice break. The work at times was
tedious, especially when it came to preparing a fivemeter square for photographing. Several volunteers
would “attack” the surface areas with brushes to
remove all traces of dirt and dust (not an easy task in the middle of a desert) so that the features of the area would be
well defined on a photograph. This clean-up process seemed to last forever—particularly when dusting cobblestone surfaces, a job I managed to be assigned more times than I like to remember.
Patricia O’Connor
Volunteer at Tel Halif works away at a balk with his pick axe.

As a first-time volunteer I learned archaeological techniques in the field in a way that couldn’t be taught from
books. I was impressed by the fact that the senior staff archaeologists in our area, Etan Ayalon (Israel) and Dr. Don
Hobson (U.S.A.), were working alongside us in the squares and didn’t come in just when there was something “to
find.” They taught us how to “see” what we were digging—to envision the different levels of habitation by noting differences in soil color and consistency; to read the balks (the vertical walls of the square) for the stratigraphy or layer
record of the civilizations) and how to imagine ourselves as part of a society of people no longer in existence.
By the time juice break came at 11:00, we were usually more than ready for a spell under the canvas tarpaulins which offered our only shade from the brilliant desert sun. Temperatures often reached 120 degrees F. by midmorning, so precautions had to be taken to avoid sunstroke and dehydration. When working in the field, hats were
a necessity—to protect the body’s most sun-sensitive spot, the top of the head. Water was passed around every half
hour and the rule was, “Either drink it or wear it!” Most of us gladly drank it. When people became cantankerous or
disoriented, the usual cause was lack of water.
It was back to the field until 12:30 and then back to camp, for the heat of the day combined with the afternoon
winds made further field work practically impossible. Gathering the buckets of sherds (pieces of pottery) and other finds
of the day along with the empty food and water containers, we repacked ourselves for another action-filled (predominantly up and down) ride through the desert.
On these return trips, we could see local life in the area. Bedouin women and children would be watering their
camels, goats, sheep and donkeys at two wells which had been used for centuries by these same people. Other Bedouin
were shepherding their flocks throughout the hills or lying down in their hand-woven tents.
Everyday a Bedouin mother, her daughter and two sons would bring their animals to the top of Tel Ira to graze.
Regardless how many days the family had already visited the tell, and regardless how many pictures had already been
taken, volunteers would immediately stop work to take more pictures. I’m sure some of our group have at least thirty
camel pictures (I only took six).
When we returned to camp we would take the pottery buckets, fill them with water, and then, after a cursory
attempt at hand and face washing under an outside faucet, we’d head for the communal dining hall for the noon meal,

© 2006 Biblical Archaeology Society

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