A good friend mentioned that I ought to say more about the place where we are surveying. We are in the eastern coastal area of Shandong Province, which is considered part of north China. A few of you may remember from an email dispatch some years ago (please see www.fmnh.org/expeditions to check out a map and the dispatches from prior field seasons) that 'shan' means 'mountain' and 'dong' means 'east,' so we are east of the mountains. Some areas of Shandong were under the control of Germany at the dawn of the Twentieth century. In Shandong, the Germans are thought to have introduced beer making, which may be one reason why the beer is so good here. Tsingtao beer, perhaps China's best known brewery and one of its largest, is produced in this province. Rizhao, where we live, is a rapidly growing port city south of the Shandong Peninsula that juts into the North China Sea like a bird. Rizhao is approximately halfway between Beijing and Shanghai.

Two decades ago, when China began to more away from an entirely socialized economy, the decision was made to focus economic development on the east coast. By now, the coast of Shandong, including the Rizhao area, is bustling with new construction. In fact, Rizhao has been practically rebuilt from the ground up in the decade we have been studying here. Our hotel, the local museum that I mentioned in a previous post, and most of the buildings that I can see from my window have all been built since we started here. Many of these structures are built in a futuristic style, with lots of glass and plastic. The newly planned sectors of Rizhao have wide boulevards that in conjunction with the architectural styles in vogue give the city a futuristic feel.

Meanwhile, just outside the cities in the surrounding countryside where we spend our days (surveying), life goes on much as it has for decades (if not centuries). Of course, there are many more roads, including new inter-provincial expressways that cut across the fields and a diversity of motorized vehicles. But it is common to see farmers working the fields with no more than hand tools, women washing clothes by beating them with wooden mallets in cold stream channels, and most of the uniform village houses have no indoor plumbing or central heating.

I feel privileged to be part of this long-term survey because in addition to the archaeological findings and discoveries, almost every day in the countryside provides a treasure trove of observations and experiences that either teach me something or warm my heart. Whether it is passing an active market bustling with local vendors and consumers as we stop for lunch, or arriving at our noontime eatery to see the owner stuffing tofu and sweet potato noodle dumplings by hand, there always is something new. Just this week, I stopped on a road in a village to see an elderly women sorting/cleaning her harvested peanuts in front of her house. In rural China, many activities take place in the streets and roads, as domestic courtyards are small and crowded, and there is no central square or plaza as there are in many villages in other world regions. After ascertaining permission through motions and gestures, I took a picture of the women. Immediately thereafter, she started to ply me with her crop until I had filled a plastic bag full. This kind of generosity, from people who have relatively little in a material sense, is the type of experience that stays with you. It brought back memories from several field seasons back when I was tromping through an apple orchard and ran into a man who tended the orchard. Instead of railing at me for trespassing on his grounds, he asked me into his thatch hut and began to ply me with freshly picked fruit. I left that day with so many gifted apples that my back became sore from carrying them around. Of course, I enjoyed the apples for many days after.

It is the nature of archaeological survey that we move to new areas every day. When we find a restaurant that we enjoy for lunch, we try to keep returning for a few days or a week. But, eventually, it becomes out of our driving range, and it becomes time to find a new noon time venue. Nevertheless, we have made excellent long-term contacts with the local officials, who support and facilitate our projects. Mr. Zhao, now head of the local Cultural Bureau, has been a great supporter of our project since we began. This year, when we arrived, he invited us to a lavish banquet, celebrating of our ten-year run, with more food than we ever could have possibly consumed. As is typical here, the banquet was focused on rounds of toasts and lots of alcohol. In my own toast, acknowledging our decade of working together, I recognized the Chinese lucky number four since four institutions (The Rizhao Cultural Bureau, The Rizhao Museum, Shandong University, and The Field Museum) have had a central role in the longevity of this effort. I also recounted that from the beginning four foundational principals-- collaboration, respect, knowledge, and friendship--have been central to making this longest active Sino-American archaeological project thrive.

The word of the day is 'gan ji,' which refers to the small countryside 'market' that takes place at each location on five day intervals. 'Gan' means 'fast' and 'ji' means meeting. So 'gan ji' is literally 'fast meeting.' This moniker seems appropriate since the rural markets seem to attract a lot of people, but are largely over by early afternoon. My colleague, Fang Hui, postulates that the use of the word 'ji' (meeting) may refer to the many social relations that generally occur at these country markets.