I love flintknapping

Photographs taken on 27 September 2009

I love flintknapping. I love it. It is something I practice most days for at least a couple of hours, though there are instances when I lose track of time, and, "Crap!" there goes 5 hours and the rest of my afternoon.

I love the research aspect of flintknapping, I love the hobby aspect of flintknapping, and I love the discipline and practice it takes since it reminds of my younger days as a competitive soccer player. Many people ask me how and where I knap, and are surprised when I say my apartment. Luckily, I live in an apartment with a balcony. Still, organization is the key to ensure no chips of rock make their way into the carpet. So for what it is worth, here are some pictures of my knapping kit, my current supply of stone (which is always evolving), a small Laurel Leaf I knapped yesterday, and the general set-up. (Remember: click on an image for a larger view!)

The knapping kit...









My supply of stone...









Even more stone...









A small Laurel Leaf I knapped yesterday...









The general flintknapping scene...

Stacked Stone Walls in Ingleton Falls, U.K.

Photographs taken on 2 August 2009

While on a hike with my fiancee in Ingleton, U.K., we noticed miles and miles of stacked dry stone walls ("noticed" because they are so common they are easily ignored from close inspection). The walls are quite a feat of material culture, and I have no idea how long it would take to build one, nor how long the ones we examined had been around. Virtually any shape can be crafted it seems, and a quick search on Google provides an extensive history of this humble feature from different areas around the world. It quickly became apparent to me that documenting the trinkets and trash stuffed in the walls' cracks would be an interesting project, possibly providing an "upper date" for a wall's age.

Duck Herds in India

Photograph taken on 6 February 2009

The drive to the excavation site in India was tedious, nerve-wracking, but occasionally welcome. Two hours to the site everyday, two-hours back. Doing this for 7 weeks can wear on you, especially when considering the "special" driving conditions in rural south India. You think your adrenaline has certainly run out, and then... BAM - an explosion, political rally, or heedless vehicle out of nowhere and it is time to grab onto something to keep your balance. Nevertheless, after sweltering, dusty work days, a two-hour nap with a cool wind slapping your face was the perfect rest before the evening meal.

On schizophrenic Andhra Pradesh roads there are all sorts of animal herds - the usual suspects involving cows, water buffalo, and goats. Some of these last for miles and miles, consisting of hundreds, if not thousands, of animals. Usually, these herds are of utmost annoyance, blocking traffic for hours (and ruining natural air conditioning).

However, one morning our team came across an animal herd none of us had ever seen before. It was surreal and hilarious: a herd of ducks. Ducks are funny anyway, and to see hundreds of them waddling down the street happily quack-chatting - well, it was unforgettable. While the ducks' "herders" did possess long sticks to keep their drakes, ducks, and ducklings in formation, the sticks were unnecessary: the ducks seemed perfectly content in their mass morning shuffle. The look of the duck herders' faces revealed their knowledge that they had the easy life compared to their compatriots watching over far more stubborn beasts.

Despite the moving vehicle, I managed to snap the following photograph.

A Photo of Miles Burkitt, Cambridge Archaeology Museum

Photograph taken on 8 November 2008

One of the great joys of Paleolithic archaeology is studying the history of its scholars. There are just so many unexpected and delightful connections between researchers. And while the study of advisor-student “lineages” is interesting in its own right, it is also illuminating in regards to why present-day researchers hold particular theoretical perspectives. This sort of insight can then applied to the self for understanding one’s own biases. In 10 or 15 years time, I may one day write here my reflections on my own archaeological lineage. My advisors have certainly left their methodological and theoretical signature on my approach to the discipline.

Given my deep interests in the history of Paleolithic archaeology (especially American and British), I was quite excited when, after giving a lecture at the University of Cambridge, I stumbled across a small display at the Cambridge Archaeology Museum about Miles Burkitt. Despite the exhibition glass, I managed to snap a shot of this classic image of Burkitt (left) and the Reverend Neville Jones (right) in Bulawayo (Zimbabwe) in 1927 examining a stone tool.

“Our buried human history all about us is, in comparison with that of the Roman period, sublime beyond conception; sublime in its extension into past time; sublime in that it takes us through profound physical mutations of the world itself; sublime in that it reveals the origin and progress of man from out a wondrous past; sublime in that reveals to us the process of man’s creation; the making of man in some aspects in the image of Him the Divine Maker, in that man reflects, anticipates, creates. Neither motor cars nor tours are needed when our eyes are open to see that our feet thrust aside the letters and figures in that history upon our graveled paths, and that they are crushed to untranslatable dust upon our graveled-metalled roads. Man grows bigger in the greatness of his being, in proportion with the openness of his eyes, and mind, and soul. Closed eyes and mind are truly a soul made blind” (Smith 1926: 99).

Smith, Frederick. 1926. Prehistoric Man and the Cambridge Gravels. Cambridge: W. Heffer and Sons Limited.

A "Rock-y" Montage? Hunan Province, China, December 2008

Photographs taken 12 December 2008 by Yiyuan Li

At the Archaeological Institute of Hunan Province, located near the heart of the Chinese metropolis, Changsha, there is a lovely courtyard. Wthin this courtyard, however, there is some strange, brightly colored exercise equipment that seems entirely out of place. Thus, during a break from flintknapping, my old professor Ofer Bar-Yosef and I decided to try the equipment out:

We have no idea what this thing is or what it is for.Surely, this is good for the abdominals.

Almost half a pull-up...

Ofer doing some cardio, while I struggle to figure out what the hell I'm supposed to be doing.

I hope Sylvester Stallone doesn't approach me about Rocky 7. I have to start my PhD this March.

My First Handaxe, Southeastern Turkey

Photographs taken in August 2004

As a break from excavation at the Neolithic site of Mezra'a Teleilat, our excavation team visited a variety of archaeological sites in Southeastern Turkey: Bronze Age, Roman, Neolithic, and Paleolithic. At one point we stopped suddenly by the side of a road. I stumbled out of the field van into thick, baked air, silently annoyed to be leaving the air-conditioned vehicle. Looking up, I witnessed a rocky, seemingly barren, field (above right). Some of the crew knowingly started to look around. Following their lead, I did the same, my curiosity suspending my discomfort and distracting me from the relentless sun.

To my delight, I started coming across a variety of lithic implements: unmodified blanks, retouched flakes, amorphous cores, and even Levallois cores (left).



But best of all was having the chance to find in the field one of the most emblematic Paleolithic stone tool types: the handaxe. While I've handled many types of stone axe before and after that experience, I will never forget the joy of simply finding them on site. And thanks to digital photography, I will never forget what they looked like either.

"The maker of the implement [handaxe or cleaver] seems often to have taken great care over its shape, and the latter survives, hundreds of millenia later, even when damaged, challenging us to understand its significance" (Roe 2006: 330).

Roe, D.A. 2006. "Some Thoughts About Acheulian Cleavers," in Axe Age: Acheulean Toolmaking from Quarry to Discard. Edited by N. Goren-Inbar and G. Sharon, pp. 313-333. Equinox Publishing Ltd.

Teaching Lithic Technology, Southern Methodist University, Dallas, Texas

Photographs taken in Fall 2006 (by B. Sunday Eiselt)

While teaching lithic technology to students, I have found there are generally two reactions:

1. Interest.

2. Extreme, annoyed boredom, bordering on total body shutdown.