Tuesday, August 22nd, 9:08am
A clatter comes from the kitchen. The cook is washing the dishes from breakfast. Hopefully none of them are breaking. We have enough sherds already. Crates of sherds cover the corridor and our office, or „basement,“ as Jan so lovelingly calls it.
The noise from the kitchen mixes with the quiet music coming from Wiebke’s laptop. In this room it is also noisy. Sherds plunk onto weighing dishes, tired fingers search out letters on „Qwerty-keyboards,“ noses are running, tea is being distributed. Gesa gives me one too. Ahhhh, warm. Outside it is windy, but that just makes it even cosier here inside.
I’m in the excavation house where a large part of the team lives, where the tools and finds are stored, where we grill Saturdays, and where the finds are classified and entered into the database. Besides Gesa, Wiebke, Olga, Mila, and of course Fulga (Romanian for „snowflake“) – a small white cat who has curled up next to Wiebke – are sitting here. The other four are also not really awake; there is a clatter, but not much talking.
(Further comments on the categorization and database will follow).
On the side, she is chatting with Wiebke.They both find decorated toilet seats dumb.
Olga and Mila are getting more animated, discussing a sherd that Olga is holding in Ukranian. „Dark brown,“ decides Mila. Olga hums to herself and enters the decision into the database. It’s time for a cigarrette. „One morning, 300 sherds, 5 minute break.“ The pair go outside, the house door slams.