Tree of Hippocrates

I've arrived on the island of Kos, the birthplace of Hippocrates. The tree wrapping around this temple is alleged to have thrived here since the time of his birth. Seems an awfully long time for a tree to survive. There is even some ugly green scaffolding propping the tree up.

My journey to Kos made me chuckle. I took a flight that seemed more like a bus ride. My plane, with about forty people on board, took off and landed about 15 minutes later on the island of Leros. Four people got off, one got on, and we were airborne again. Kos was another 15 minute hop, and I was the only one to get on or off the aircraft. I entered the terminal, and the only other human in sight was a security guard. A moment later the baggage carousel sprung to life, and out came my one lone bag. The security guard and I just stood there laughing for a couple of minutes. Luckily there was a taxi waiting for me right outside the door.


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Octopus

Shot of fresh octopus drying in the breeze. Feral cats lurk hopefully around the cabinet.

Last night on Astypalia, tomorrow afternoon I head to Kos. There are a few things I'll miss about the place. The beach and the water are amazing. No light pollution means great stargazing. The balmy windy nights make you want to sleep in a hammock on the beach. And last but not least, the Greek people have been warm and hospitable hosts.

But I miss California, Jeff and the cats.


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Monday sucks

Monday was a bad day in the field school world. I could barely get out of bed at six, as we had been sleeping in all weekend.

It was hot, humid and still all day. Heard it described as drowning in your own sweat. Sweat poured off of me as I wrestled with the tripod.

I was then informed that every measurement I had taken over the last four weeks was wrong because our calipers had some weird inch/mm screw up.

When we got back from the lab we returned to a huge army of ants in the kitchen.

Finally we were told that our calculations on the computer program needed to be done again because they wanted more details that were not called out in the original instructions. My room mates and I were so unhappy that we headed to the nearest bar for a drink. Here is a photo of my Scotch.


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Supermarket

Shot of the local supermarket in Livadi. The woman behind the counter is Katerina, the store is her family business. She speaks good English and often acts as translator in our behalf. She calls taxis, tells the bus driver where to take us and teaches us some basic Greek.

We can find just about anything we need at her shop, including freshly baked bread on the weekends. The ice cream in the big freezer is everybody's favorite. Deliveries of heavy objects, such as bottled water are toted in a crate on the back of her motorcycle.

She has relatives visiting her from Miami, we're all supposed to go out on the town one night. That means hitting the first bar at 1:30 am. Yikes!



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Good Friday

Shot of a local sponge cart. I got a couple of nice ones, including a really fine one for the face.

Friday was great in Astypalaia. We were dreading the walk up the hill at sunrise, as we had been out late celebrating the departure of one of the supervisors. However, just as we stepped onto the street, a neighbor drove up in his car and offered us a ride to the top. Well, it's about two thirds of the way up, as the final ascent is pedestrian and motorcycle only. We were so thrilled that we piled into his car. Ecstatic, we thanked him profusely in our limited Greek all the way to the summit. We arrived just in time to see a drunken reveler tumble down the hill and bounce off of one of the windmills in the square. If I have't mentioned it before, the bars close at six, and we often pass drunkards straggling down the hill as we march up.

The other exciting event was getting home made ice cream in the lab. It is our customary end of the work week treat, we all look forward to Friday afternoons.

Other than that it is the end of week four and lots of people are looking forward to returning home. I'll be heading to the island of Kos for a couple of days before my long journey back to LA.

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Ossuary

The structure in the center of the frame ( the one with the curved top) is an ossuary. Most families on the island have one on their property, some are more elaborate and highly decorated than others.

Locals still practice secondary burials in Astypalaia. So the deceased is first buried in a cemetery, and then after 5 years the bones are dug up and placed into an ossuary with other family members. It makes excavating a cemetery a bit more complicated, as you can get commingled individuals.

Digging up and transporting the bones back home is traditionally women's work.

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Sieve job

This is a shot of the early stages of a typical sieve job. Note that only the neck and handles of the vase are intact. We are left with lots of soil. We pick out any large loose bones, and then sieve the rest through two sizes of screen.

The girl in the back is my roomate and lab partner Perle. Thankfully she never sings show tunes.



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