Kibbutz Palmachim, Israel 28th August 1989
Taking a couple of weeks off from my Kibbutz in the north I headed south again to take part in an archaeological dig just a short distance from Kibbutz Palmachim, which is itself located about 15km south of Tel Aviv. This site allegedly, dated back to the bronze age and while in my misguided youth I had visions of my good self digging up jewel encrusted death masks, jewellery and coins galore, my only claim to fame was finding the fossilised remains of a 2000 year old mollusc dominated, compost heap and a few insignificant stones that turned out to be part of the foundation of some insignificant structure that was no doubt used for storage or for taking a dump in.
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| View from Kibbutz Palmachim's Dining Hall |
Leaving my kibbutz was fraught with problems. The volunteer leader was not happy with my desire to depart (albeit for a short time) and I was subsequently made to feel like the proverbial leper. So, after trying to smooth things out and finally managing to procure a two week leave of absence, I left some of my stuff with Annette and set off for the site. Kibbutz Palmachim is beautiful, situated right on the coast with sandy beaches and an azure blue sea. The dig site was not so impressive, being situated upon an escarpment or was it the top of a quarry? After all these years, it is difficult to remember.
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| Palmachim Beach |
On Monday morning we were introduced to the 'Professor' who was leading the dig and his emotionless, stony faced German assistant. Our job was quite simple. We were expected to dig and that was it. Prior to arriving on site I had found archaeology to be nothing less than fascinating, especially as I had just arrived back from what I considered to be the archaeological jewel of our small planet: Egypt.
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| The dig site....with Leon and Greg pretending to work.... |
As I explained in one of my other blogs, in my youth I used to spend many hours at the 12th century Prittlewell Priory in my home town of Southend-on-sea. The curator of the museum, a lovely guy named Bill, did everything he could to encourage us to take an interest in the history of our local area and frequently sent us out to look for archaeological goodies, probably to get us out from under his feet more than anything else. However, I really don't think he had really prepared himself for our enthusiastic approach to his encouragement and we often came back to the museum, loaded down with booty aplenty in hand. Most of it was rubbish, yet some of the items we found were from the monastery that had been demolished back in the 16th century. We proudly handed them over and as far as I am aware, a couple of the pieces of masonry that we discovered are still on display in the museum to this day.
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| Wider angle of the dig site |
While I had now got used to 'living it up' in basic accommodation, nothing could of prepared me for our living conditions at Palmachim. Having had to part with a small sum of money to go on this dig, I was expecting at the very least, to be accommodated in a half comfy room located somewhere within the kibbutz. I was subsequently confronted with the reality of having to live in a tatty, old, 8 man army tent and sleep on the most uncomfortable bed I had ever had the misfortune of prostrating my person upon.
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| Luxury Accommodation.... |
I shared this 'luxury' abode with two other English guys, Greg and Leon who seemed to be as shell shocked as I was. Nevertheless, we were willing to retain our British, stiff upper lips and give things a go, especially being as we were all 'passionate' about archaeology and the hidden gems that were no doubt just waiting to be discovered by us. The first day of the dig set the precedent for what was to come. Given pick axes, shovels and curious, floppy buckets, we were detailed to chip away at soil that had previously been baked solid for thousands of years by the scorching hot, Israeli sun; a task which we found to our displeasure, was about as easy as excavating diamond encrusted granite! After 2 hours of pathetically bashing metal against rock, we swept up the few shards that we had managed to chip away, when suddenly a moment of clarity engulfed us and it was then that we knew that we were in for a long and hard two weeks.
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| Fawning Session in Progress |
There was a clear, no nonsense hierarchy at the site. Those who had been there the longest were given the easier tasks such as digging in real soil and carefully extracting goodies from the earth with their little brushes and trowels. Not that these 'goodies' turned out to be of any real interest to us neanderthals who were still desperately clinging on to delusions of archaeological grandeur. Our work day was from 6-12pm and then we were expected to meet in the main tent at 4pm for a discussion on the day's dig. During this little gathering, the three of us sat and stared in dismay as the others chirped away, fawning most magnificently over the tiny shards of pottery or other unexplained objects that they had extracted from the soil. All we wanted was a cold beer, some decent food and a comfortable bed upon which we could rest our aching limbs.
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| One of many breaks... |
By Wednesday, we had had enough and made a pact that come the weekend we would escape from this godforsaken place. The other two didn't even last that long and by Thursday, they had abandoned me to my fate......gits! On that particular day, my interest was somewhat restored after finding a cluster of fossilised mother of pearl shells that had no doubt been discarded by a 2nd century BC housewife. I was detailed to carefully expose my find further so that photos could be taken. However, the diamonds, emeralds and rubies were still not forthcoming and on Friday evening, longing for my friends back on the kibbutz and my basic, yet comfortable bed, I decided to make my escape. I phoned the kibbutz that evening asking to return a week early. This request was flatly rejected obviously out of spite, however, I was having none of it.
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| Palmachim Beach looking south |
My Mission Impossible picture folder had mysteriously vanished, so it was left to me to devise a cunning plan of action. Being as it was Saturday, the bus services became rather infrequent and at times rather non existent, so, after eating my last supper in the kibbutz dining room I hitched a ride into Rishon le Zion where it would hopefully be much easier to procure the services of a bus to get me 'home'. My plan was simple, get back to Shamir and hide out for a week....... after all, what could be easier..........???
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