Dig doi

The train was unsleepable on. I dozed on an off just enough to get rid of the tipsyness, then went into the corridor and watched the scenery with George and Camille. As the sun rose redly and gorgeously above the hills into the clouds, we zoomed past many strange things. A town which consisted of three graveyards and three wooden huts with a sheep pen perched on the side of a hill. A solitary wooden church in the middle of vast fields. A pig munching in the cabbage patch. Mist that hung above a river like spectres. George's bees. And of course the wonderful endless rolling green landscape of Romania. One of the best sunrises ever.

A 3 hour bus journey later, we arrived in Simleu Silvaniei and were shown to our building site accomodation. It smells like sawdust and there's rubble everywhere, and we are constantly attacked by flies and can't lock the toilet doors. There is no fridge or cooking facilities. It's quite exciting. Unhealthy as this place feels, there's something poetic about it. I feel like putting on a long flowey dress and wandering the decaying halls looking lost, perhaps wailing a bit. Miss Havisham of 21st Century Romania.

The site is really cool, looking forward to getting my dig on tomorrow.

I've been learning Romanian a bit too. It's a really lovely language. Pot Avea unu ciocolata calda te rog? Cit costa? Multsumesc. Sint Obosita.

Last night after a shower, some honey nut loops and bread and jam and an apple, we watched a really interesting comedy film about gypsies called 'Black Cat White Cat'.

There was also a thunder storm outside and we first has the Gladiator soundtrack issuing forth loudly from George's computer, and then the 'O Brother' songs.

First day on the dig was pretty cool, we're mostly cleaning walls but it's quite fun. Camille is wicked, i really like her. We got to clean some pot also. Bought more interesting food and therefore have eaten a lot too much today.

In the evening me and Camille and George and Glynn went out for a drink. We bought a bottle of wine and chatted a lot, George read my palm. Apparently I will live long, maybe have a kid or not, there are vital vitamins or minerals missing in my body (easy guess considering our poor diet at present, i want some brocolli!) and i will not be rich, may or not be married... Apparently i am someone who thinks with my heart instead of my head.

Second day on the dig and Amy's birthday. We were cleaning walls again and i got to clean this really interesting burn in the earth, inside the building we're excavating. This hilarious big archaeologist with huge thick glasses said it was 'very unbelievable for a girl to like this sort of work.'

We went to a crappy restaurant for lunch but it made a change from sandwiches. Maybe i replaced that missing element in my body with the pork and chips and cabbage.

After lunch, George bought a bag of fresh apricots from an old woman and we sat under a tree at the dig eating them.

When the workers went home and it was jut us left, a guy came to watch us dig. On being told that the girls didn't enjoy him staring at them, he found a purple umbrella and lay underneath it.

George said that some archaeologists found some wine in a container from ancient greek times. It has turned to jelly. Thery tried it and it was really strong. How cool is that?! I want to find some ancient wine.

The evenings are quite fun here. We sit in the room, Cmaille plays lovley french music, we eat stuff. George started throwing things at me earlier so i put his hat on, which sparked off a stupid modelling session. I am no model, we discovered. Not that i was considering it as a future career anyway.

Right now, George is playing us some traditional Romanian mountain music. It has a very specific beat. Apparently, it's a ritual song that young unmarried men must dance to in a circle at sunrise, beating the ground and screaming certain things. It's quite celtic sounding and i like it a lot.

Third day of the dig, and a total lack of energy and motivation. We were cleaning profiles which is pretty shitty work, but i think it could be down to the fact i've got off the sugar and chocolate and chips and coke and all of a sudden am eating tuna sandwiches and more than my 5 a day, and my body thinks something must be wrong.

Also, it's frickin hot. And i seem to have a cold or hayfever quite badly.

I fell asleep on a plank of wood earlier.

I am constantly covered in a thin layer of dust and grime. I should've brought better scrubbing tools.

After a good sleep, a shower, a tuna sandwich, apple and cream cheese, natural yoghurt with jam and a nectarine, i felt much better. We watched a film, 'Broken Flowers' with Bill Murray in the evening.

Saturday so no work. Lay in, ate a grapefruit. Me and Camille went on a wander round some of the town. It's really gorgeous and very different to Brasov. It's a tiny place, not in the lonely planet, not touristy. Mostly old crumbling hungarian buildings rather than big communist blocks. Gorgeous little streets, buildings and trees. Took a lot of photos. We had some lunch, pizza i'm afraid to say, due to the profound lack of restaurants and the longing for a break from sandwiches.

The three girls left today. Bea, Amy and Phillipa. So it's just me and Camille and George and Glynn left. We are moving into a priest's house on monday with a cooker apparently, so i can have pasta to my heart's content.

In the evening we watched The Last King of Scotland which is awesome and brought back loadsa Kenya memories.

Sunday woke up relatively late, not as late as lazy George who finally emerged from his sleeping bag at 10.10 with his huge hair wild, red eyes, thrashing about sleepily. He got very paranoid when me and Camille laughed at him, but he should just recognise the beast within.

We had been promised a walk in the woods, so we set off up the mountain into the trees. We passed some gorgeous houses and gardens up a little street, then came to a clearing and made a film about a tourist that gets carried off by a wild caveman (George, who fits the part perfectly). He threw me over his shoulder. It was hilarious and just a little scary. Then the other archaeologists Cosmin and Dalie joined us and we set off again. There were some absolutely fantastic views from the top of the hill, it was pretty amazing. George led us through some stupid thick undergrowth and trees, jungle man indeed, then we sat down overlooking the town under some trees and told jokes and ate wild blackberries and halva as traditional music from a wedding or something drifted to us on the wind. Me and Camilly talked about French and English Literature and i realised how much English education focuses on its own culture and history as i hadn't heard of any famous classic french writers, playwrights, poets or film makers. And Camille knew a lot about Spanish history and literature as well, while at a stretch i can claim only Dangerous Liaisons, All Quiet on the Western Front, The Master and Margharita, a little Hesse, a little Brecht, a little Haruki Murakami, a tiny amount of Kafka as well as limited experience of a few foreign films.

Camille is going to make me a list of books, films, and music to look into and i'll do one for her. Guess which will be longer. I feel so uncultured.

We wandered back down, ate some wild sour cherries, then went to lunch. A really lovely day.

In the evening we went out for drinks with the archaeologists and the head of the dig who just arrived; a very respected top-of-the-field Romanian Archaeologist, Mrs Marcu. It was really nice, apart from a crazy drunk man stumbling around for a while but even he was just quite amusing.

Actually, i've decided our accomodation is like a modern day Romanian Fagin's den. I woke up with 'Gotta pick a pocket or two' in my head and it all became clear. I will be Nancy the archaeologist today i think.

The dig was proper hard going today, i really worked myself into the ground (haha). I've never been so overheated, exhausted and dirty.

But to make up for it we have moved into a wonderfully clean Priest's hous with hot water, a huge kitchen and a fridge. We also made friends with some of the nice young lads from the dig. They get paid a dollar an hour. Yeesh.

We cooked Carbonara Pasta, huge mounds of the stuff. Predictably, i cleared my plate plus a yoghurt and half a grapefruit while George and Camille managed just half of theirs. We also bought fresh-from-the-cow milk in a big old plastic water bottle. Pretty amazing. Looking forward to breakfast.

This house is the perfect setting for a horror film. Different windy staircases and dark passages and rooms, echoes and creepy pictures of Jesus everywhere. Also mosquitos. The closest to Dracula i think i'll come, bloodsucking little shits. Luckily Kenya turned me into an expert squish-exterminator, so i've more than evened the score before they've even begun tonight.

George gave us his 'George book' to write in that he only gives to his favourite volunteers.

Our last day of digging, and we washed pottery all day. I like washing pottery though, it's sorta like opening presents. All the pieces are caked in dirt, different sizes and shapes, and you take one at a time and remove the mud to discover what's inside; a glaze, pretty patterns, letters, fingr dents from the potter. OF course there are the crappy presents which are just very plain clay pots but the interesting ones make it worthwhile. Every day is christmas when you're an archaeologist. Let's not mention that i cleaned fragments of a medieval chamber pot today.

For lunmch we got a couple of George's 'cheese pies' from the kiosk, which aren't actually pies but some kind of deep fried discs of dough with cheese grated onto them, a bit pancakey. We then walked back to the priest's house and had the healthy lunch as if nothing greasy had happened.

In the afternoon we washed some more pottery and chatted about life.\

I spilled superglue all over my hand and on my top, where it actually began to smoke and burn my stomach. It's cool though, i got it off my hands.

George and Dalie cooked for us, a yummy romanian dish with 'mommaliga' (polenta) and then a sauce of onions, sausages, peppers and tomatoes. Simple delicious food. As they cooked, George played some bands and they had an occasional break to headbang in the kitchen.

We ate at the sheltered tables outside and drank our wine as a storm raged, and chatted. Then we ate Glynn's cake and went to bed.

I dreamed we were walking through sewers.

Woke up wednesday, had an omelette (the first cooked breakfast of Romania) and packed the rest of everything. Went to the dig, said goodbye. Took a taxi to the bus place but there was no bus. Took another to the hitchhiking place and a guy conveniently had a minibus going to Cluj. Slept on the way and talked about bees.

Now on the train after saying goodbye to George. So sad! I shall miss that crazy man.

I have nothing to read except a book Mrs Marcu gave me that she wrote with some other people about a dig in Sibiu. Pretty interesting but i'd rather watch the landscape.

And a lot of landscape i got to see. The train kept breaking. First they had to replace something, then smoke started pouring from underneath our carriage. Me and Camille found it quite funny in a despairing sort of way. The 5 hour journey ended up taking 6 and a half. Returning to Brasov and one of Monica's amazing meals was just the most wonderful thing.