Fukushima and Disasters of Centuries Past

In today's Washington Post, there is an article about the large-scale abandonment of areas surrounding the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant that occurred after March's nuclear accident.  The article focuses on the disaster's effect on the region's cattle industry, but also mentions how the sudden human abandonment left the area "frozen in time."  Because of health risks associated with exposure to radiation, an area of about 12 miles surrounding the plant will probably have to remain abandoned for decades.

It's sad to see how many lives have been ruined by the earthquake-precipitated accident.  I can't imagine how difficult it must be to be removed from a place that is your home, and lose your business to boot.  However, the situation did make me recall several archaeological examples of large-scale abandonment.  Probably the best known example is Pompeii, buried under a thick layer of ash from an AD 79 volcanic eruption.  A similar example from Ceren, El Salvador, reveals the wealth of information that can be gleaned from rapid abandonment and preservation due to volcanic eruption.  The Makah village of Ozette in northwest Washington, buried under a mudslide in about 1700, was also well-preserved and and a fruitful project for investigating continuities in Makah cultural identity.

Plaza area at Aguateca

Yet some examples of abandonment are not linked to an obvious natural disaster.  For example, the Maya site of Aguateca in Guatemala was burned (probably due to warfare) and abandoned at some point during the late classic period (AD 600-830), its residents leaving household materials in the process of use.  This example is especially poignant when compared to the area surrounding the Fukuskima Daiichi nuclear power plant.  Both are examples of how cultural as well as natural disasters can lead to sudden regional abandonment, but also provide a unique glimpse at household practices.  While advanced technology like nuclear power - a cultural adaptation - fuels a complex, inter-connected world, it does not remove our vulnerability to natural and culturally-precipitated disasters.

Sources:

Inomata, Takeshi and Laura R. Stiver. 1998.  Floor Assemblages from Burned Structures at Aguateca, Guatemala: A Study of Classic Maya Households. Journal of Field Archaeology 25(4):431-452.

McKee, Brian R. 2002. Household archaeology and cultural formation processes: Examples from the Ceren site, El Salvador. In The Archaeology of Household Activities, Ed. Penelope M. Allison, 30-42. London: Routledge.

Wessen, Gary. 1990. Prehistory of the Ocean Coast of Washington. In Handbook of American Indians, vol. 7: Northwest Coast, ed. Wayne Suttles, 412-421. Washington, D.C.: Smithsonian Institution.

Honoring the Dead

I'm back!  The past three months have been a whirlwind - moving (back) to Williamsburg, starting graduate school, and wedding planning - and somewhere along the way blogging got left in the dust.  Yet my mind has been brimming with thoughts and ideas, so here we go --

Recently, I've spent a lot of time thinking about my academic specialty and career in general.  While I have always loved being in school, life as a graduate student has certainly made me question my desire to get a PhD and pursue an academic career.  I suppose it's easy to idealize working or being in school from the other side of the fence - I certainly did when I was working full time.  This semester has been full of frustrations - fear of failure (or fear of just adequacy), a struggle to fit into an academic environment as a grad student, and efforts to maintain balance between "work" and "home".  All the same, I've at least reached an understanding of some academic interests (those pidgenholed "research interests" on a CV...) and tentitve ideas for my thesis.

Archaeological discovery of a human burial

As some of my readers will remember, I spent much of my "year off" working in repatriation, the return of human remains and objects to claimant Native American Tribes.  When I returned to William and Mary for graduate school this fall, I decided to take a class in human skeletal biology.  The inordinate amount of excitement I had for this class - which consisted of learning to identify and analyze in basic ways the bones of the human body - started the turning of the gears... 

In contemporary archaeology, you generally don't want to find burials.  Human bones mean paperwork, politics, and controversy, especially if they turn out to be the remains of Native Americans.  But I've realized over the past few months that sometimes the best way to mitigate controversies is to understand them, to be well versed in mortuary practices and skeletal biology so that when issues arise - whether in museum repatriation, construction projects, or academic archaeology - you are prepared to reach a compromise between the prerogatives of different communities.

From Written in Bone

Let's face it: we (Americans) don't like to talk about death.  It's the unknown, the uncertain (and in the case of zombies, the seriously frightening).  In some cultures, talking about death is taboo.  Yet for others - the Hispanic celebration of the Day of the Dead, for example - family members revisit the graves of the dead as a way of remembering their lives.  As Americans, we see great importance in honoring those who have gone before us, especially those who died tragically or in military conflicts, as revealed in recent controversies about Arlington Cemetery, the Air Force (and this), and the placement of the remains of 9-11 victims in a public memorial museum.  But it's important to remember that culturally, we understand death, burial, and memory in very different ways - hence the reason why the remains of early Euro-American settlers can be displayed in a museum while it would be unacceptable (today) to display Native American remains in a similar way.

I see the study of the dead as an important way to honor those who have come before us, by remembering their lives.  Just think about it.

Remembering those who died on 9-11