Crafted, marked, traded, shattered. Such is the fate of the potsherds that comprise Monte Testaccio. It is a mountain in its own right, but it is unlike any other in the world. The ground crunches beneath your feet as you climb, but instead of looking down to see rocks or twigs, you see pieces of amphorae - thousands, millions of pieces. Sometimes a handle, sometimes a neck, sometimes a shoulder - all broken, all ignored by its passersby.
Thanks to the professional connections of my Archaeology of Rome professors, I was lucky enough to see this mountain, meet the team (that just finished their excavations yesterday), and appreciate it for what it is - what its sherds once were. For the last 18 years, a team from the University of Barcelona has spent two weeks of each year digging on-site, and the other fifty weeks learning from, cataloging, recording, and analyzing their chipped discoveries. So what is the big deal? Who cares about some broken pottery?
The potsherds that are Monte Testaccio are the remnants of olive oil amphorae, dating back to Hadriatic times (their most recent discovery). Each pot had five markings as follows:
1. Weight of the empty pot (30 kg)
2. Trader's name
3. Weight of the oil in the pot (70 kg)
4. Confirmation of the weight by the custom's office and name of district
5. Name of the consul at the time (date)
The pots that have been discovered and studied reconstruct the history of Roman economy and trade. Because they held olive oil, which apparently made the amphorae smell after use, they were destroyed and added to the pile of sherds. They have found that the mountain is made of terraces of sherds by year, however, time, bull fights held in the middle ages on the hill, cannon tests on the hill, and other such factors have done quite some damage.
It used to be open to the public as it has a great view of the former Roma Football Club field from the top. While watching matches, it was customary for people to throw the potsherds at the players when they were dissatisfied. I don't know where throwing the pieces fits in, but since the 1700's it has been illegal to remove potsherds from the site. The offense was punishable by jail time. It is now preserved as an archaeological site and is closed to the public.
It is a curious phenomenon that we, as humans, can create a mountain out of the pieces of jugs that we make, only to break them, and then return to it years later to put them back together again, and be frustrated by our inability to find perfect puzzle pieces. We need the amphora, so we make it. It is the size we want, it carries what we need, but then the day comes when its just too big, or has carried too much - we can't discard it whole, it takes up too much space, someone else may come and claim it as their own - we have to shatter it. Add it to the pile, make room for the next mess we make.
The second part of our exploration was a trip to the Horrea dig on Via Galvani where they are doing rescue excavations. They uncovered two Roman storehouses, an agricultural garden area, and a medieval street paved with potsherds. The excavation began in 2005 and will come to an end this Friday; the digs only last as long as developers will fund them. Archaeologists try to salvage what they can, photograph the structures they find, and focus on key questions about the site rather than finding everything that is there.
A noteworthy thing about the site was that it is being redeveloped into a market. While I would say that history is neither linear nor a complete circle, I would say it has a funny way of looping around to repeat itself as it progresses forward. Once a warehouse, now a market, ah continuity of use.
Just as a temple (found on-site) was covered in concrete before being incorporated into the foundation of the ancient warehouse above it, what has been found in the last two years will soon be incorporated into the foundation of the new market. We dig down to it, see it, and repeat the process all over again. This is not to say that we should never cover up the past - we have to move on, buildings have to be constructed, or there would be no modern Rome. It is just to say that is a crazy dance we do with the past. There is a fine line between wanting to know more, and having that knowledge of the past prevent us from moving forward.
No comments:
Post a Comment