So I think I'm an archaeologist of death now... No big deal.
A few weeks ago my research team and I went to St. Luke's cemetery (located on Shelbourne and Cedar Hill X Road) and collected data on monument designs and inscriptions. We meandered around the compact but cute (acceptable descriptive word for a cemetery?) cemetery, admiring the variety of monuments.
It was really weird and satisfying to actually get out in the field and take data but then when I wrote the monument analysis essay I really felt like a big time PhD archaeologist expert extraordinaire. I found it hard to cite outside sources because I was so sure of what I had discovered from my own data. I didn't need another person's opinion to back me up! Psshh! Who has time for other people's ideas? (I managed to fit them in, in case you're wondering...)
Also, another thing that made me feel like a real researcher... We made a map! Monuments are plotted and boundaries are comin' at you left, right, and centre. We did have a debate over the icon used to symbolize the church... I still think we should have used the volcano. One of my group members thought it would be misinterpreted and disrespectful. I guess I can see that... It looked cool though!!
Click the link below to view the map!
St. Luke's Anglican Church and Cemetery
Sunday, 17 February 2013
Monday, 11 February 2013
Totally Awesome
Totally awesome picture I found on tumblr...
"I like Stonehenge"
*said like the kid below*
"I like Stonehenge"
*said like the kid below*
Saturday, 9 February 2013
More than 10, 000 Sockeye Salmon
I recently lost my uncle. We buried him on this past Thursday, February 7th.
I've attended funerals before, and they're always very sad, but I'm really affected by the viewing of the casket and the music choice.
Just today I got a little teary eyed listening to "One Sweet Day" by Mariah Carey and Boyz II Men. Don't listen if you've lost someone recently. Seriously.
I think in the case of my uncle, what saddened me the most was watching my cousins say goodbye to their dad. I looked at my cousins, and then at their children. I can't imagine losing my dad and him never seeing me graduate university, get married, or have children. I'm actually getting a little choked up thinking about it right now.
This is getting sappy, but it's true. Life is so fragile; it really is a gift. Also, don't feel guilty - don't ever feel like you could've done something more, something that would have prevented your loved one's passing. All you can do is love your family and never be afraid to tell them.
In memory of Uncle Patty. We love you more than 10, 000 sockeye salmon.
I've attended funerals before, and they're always very sad, but I'm really affected by the viewing of the casket and the music choice.
Just today I got a little teary eyed listening to "One Sweet Day" by Mariah Carey and Boyz II Men. Don't listen if you've lost someone recently. Seriously.
I think in the case of my uncle, what saddened me the most was watching my cousins say goodbye to their dad. I looked at my cousins, and then at their children. I can't imagine losing my dad and him never seeing me graduate university, get married, or have children. I'm actually getting a little choked up thinking about it right now.
This is getting sappy, but it's true. Life is so fragile; it really is a gift. Also, don't feel guilty - don't ever feel like you could've done something more, something that would have prevented your loved one's passing. All you can do is love your family and never be afraid to tell them.
In memory of Uncle Patty. We love you more than 10, 000 sockeye salmon.
Wednesday, 6 February 2013
Happy Birthday 100th Mary Leakey!
I just thought it was the coolest thing ever to see Google honouring Mary Leakey's 100th birthday today!
Check out the Google homepage, if you haven't already. It features her with her dalmatians!
Back in 2010 when I took an introductory anthropology class, one of the things that really stuck out was Mary Leakey's dalmatians. I know it's a silly thing to take away from a class (I remember the random weird trivial pursuit type information) but I love animals and thought it was the coolest thing.
I don't have pets right now but I believe that my future career must love dogs. Or pets of any kind, really. I intend to have a lifestyle surrounded by animals.
Mary Leakey, you will go down in history as the this remarkable (understatement) archaeologist who will forever be referenced by professors of anthropology classes of all levels. If one day I am teaching a class and you come up, I will be sure to mention your dalmatians, just as my professor did.
Check out the Google homepage, if you haven't already. It features her with her dalmatians!
Back in 2010 when I took an introductory anthropology class, one of the things that really stuck out was Mary Leakey's dalmatians. I know it's a silly thing to take away from a class (I remember the random weird trivial pursuit type information) but I love animals and thought it was the coolest thing.
I don't have pets right now but I believe that my future career must love dogs. Or pets of any kind, really. I intend to have a lifestyle surrounded by animals.
Mary Leakey, you will go down in history as the this remarkable (understatement) archaeologist who will forever be referenced by professors of anthropology classes of all levels. If one day I am teaching a class and you come up, I will be sure to mention your dalmatians, just as my professor did.
Tuesday, 5 February 2013
Grandpa, suit up!
I'm just reading Howard Williams' Death Warmed Up and one particular thought made me laugh at its truth.
The body undergoing decomposition and transformation affects memory through a response of fear, revulsion and avoidance (Hertz, 1960). In other cases, the experience of the cadaver creates such a unique and powerful impact on the senses that it can form the very basis of the way the dead person is remembered. (page 267)
This made me think of my grandpa's funeral. It was open casket. I had never seen a dead body before and didn't know what to expect. I approached the casket with caution, and half expected it to be lined with the upholstery of his beloved blue recliner.
I placed my hands on the soft oak paneling of the tastefully Catholic casket and peered in on grandpa Ulrich. Grandpa looked good - damn good!
Later at the reception, my dad said "The suit we got for him was the nicest suit he ever owned - he never looked better than he did today."
Can anyone else see the comic in this sentence?
When I read that particular section of Howard Williams' article, it made me think that dead grandpa was better dressed than living grandpa. And I will always remember him in the way I last saw him: looking like NPH in How I Met Your Mother.
The body undergoing decomposition and transformation affects memory through a response of fear, revulsion and avoidance (Hertz, 1960). In other cases, the experience of the cadaver creates such a unique and powerful impact on the senses that it can form the very basis of the way the dead person is remembered. (page 267)
This made me think of my grandpa's funeral. It was open casket. I had never seen a dead body before and didn't know what to expect. I approached the casket with caution, and half expected it to be lined with the upholstery of his beloved blue recliner.
I placed my hands on the soft oak paneling of the tastefully Catholic casket and peered in on grandpa Ulrich. Grandpa looked good - damn good!
Later at the reception, my dad said "The suit we got for him was the nicest suit he ever owned - he never looked better than he did today."
Can anyone else see the comic in this sentence?
When I read that particular section of Howard Williams' article, it made me think that dead grandpa was better dressed than living grandpa. And I will always remember him in the way I last saw him: looking like NPH in How I Met Your Mother.
Age: Just a Number?
My mother has always said that age is just a number. Granted she is often referring to my odd magnetism to older men but lectures on identity and this saying got me thinking about age and its presence on grave monuments.
What can a deceased person's age tell us?
Obviously archaeologists like dates on monuments because it can help with data interpretation; but people don't put dates on monuments with the idea being that their dearly departed may one day be part of a study.
What are the cultural reasons behind inscribing the date of birth and death?
Knowing the age of an individual at their time of death can certainly evoke emotions and opinions. Perhaps creating emotion that mimics the family's response to the death is the motive when designing the headstone. A person that died at the age of 12 might cause you to feel pity and sadness for not only the individual but for the family too. This young human had only lived a short part of their life - they were taken too soon. In comparison, when viewing a monument dedicated to a 98 year old person, we might feel a sense of admiration that this individual lived so long - they must have experienced a full life, done a lot of things.
But is age at time of death (or rather years lived) an important part of someone's identity? Does age alone create a memory worth leaving behind?
Do you think it is more important to be remembered for what you accomplished in your lifetime or how old you were when you bit the bullet?
What can a deceased person's age tell us?
Obviously archaeologists like dates on monuments because it can help with data interpretation; but people don't put dates on monuments with the idea being that their dearly departed may one day be part of a study.
What are the cultural reasons behind inscribing the date of birth and death?
Knowing the age of an individual at their time of death can certainly evoke emotions and opinions. Perhaps creating emotion that mimics the family's response to the death is the motive when designing the headstone. A person that died at the age of 12 might cause you to feel pity and sadness for not only the individual but for the family too. This young human had only lived a short part of their life - they were taken too soon. In comparison, when viewing a monument dedicated to a 98 year old person, we might feel a sense of admiration that this individual lived so long - they must have experienced a full life, done a lot of things.
But is age at time of death (or rather years lived) an important part of someone's identity? Does age alone create a memory worth leaving behind?
Do you think it is more important to be remembered for what you accomplished in your lifetime or how old you were when you bit the bullet?
Friday, 1 February 2013
www.Wary_of_the_Wari'_Ways.com
In North America, traditional disposal of the dead usually consists of inhumation (burial in the ground) or cremation (burning the body... above ground). For many, these methods are deemed the "proper" way to dispose of the dead; but there are other options - one of which being mortuary cannibalism.
Although the Wari' do not practise mortuary cannibalism any more, the process of disposing of their dead was once handled with great respect. Any other way was simply unfathomable and conjured up feelings of disgust and horror (much like endocannibalism does for many North Americans - lol).
When I imagine funerals, I always think of the food that awaits. Selfish? Perhaps. But if I'm going to be uncontrollably weepy all day, I think setting up camp at the dessert table isn't a bad idea. I can say (without having tried it) that shake'n'bake grandma is not my idea of a picnic. I can say, also, that it never particularly excited the Wari'. They were not eating the dead for enjoyment...
The
Wari’ consider the ground to be dirty, polluted, wet, and cold: it is a very inappropriate resting site for the body of someone so beloved. They take this idea of the ground being dirty very seriously; Conklin
reports adults that respect their body do not even sit on the ground, objects
used in rituals never touch the ground, and people are very cautious with food
so it never drops. Further extending this idea, people would volunteer to be human cutting boards when dismembering and preparing the deceased to prevent any blood of the dead from touching the cold earth (Conklin, 1995, 85).
All living things have a human spirit believe the Wari'. If a body is sent to rot underground, its spirit cannot find a new body to enter. The village shaman is able to see the spirit of the recently departed once he or she has claimed a new body. The shaman can then report back to the family and the grieving ceases.
Conklin sums up the belief to be that whoever wishes to eat must eventually become food themselves one day (1995, 89).
I'm not totally onboard with the consumption of 3-day old rotting corpse (I've taken enough anthropology classes to know what happens to a body in Amazonian heat) but I am fully committed to the mantra hakuna matata and I believe in the circle of life. We get out of this world what we put in - the Wari' are right about that!
*queue Rafiki and the zoo-orchestra, raise Simba to the sun*
Works Cited
Conklin, B. A. (1995). ‘Thus are our bodies,
thus was our custom’: mortuary cannibalism in an amazonian society. American Ethnologist, 22(1), 75-101.
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