The little things.  These are the places where one must find joy, in the little things.  I was reminded of that last night, as I walked back from one of the small store/homes that are cozily scattered amongst the streets of Patzcuaro.  They sell the basics, chips, candy, soda, beer.  But I visit for the 5 peso mangoes, which the kind woman carefully cuts and places in lime juice.  They are heavenly.  They make my day.  The little things.

As I walk back, slowly eating my mango, I watch the neighborhood kids play a game of soccer in the cobble-stone street, with the occasional grown-up joining in, unable to resist the joy of the game.  Dogs spectate from the rooftops, occasionally barking down jeers at the game in progress.  I walk by the panaderia (bakery), where the old ladies are already preparing the dough and pastries for the next morning.  The smell is intoxicating, and makes me anxious for my breakfast in the morning.  Then I pass the house where the garage band is playing…off beat drums, off-note singer, sounding wonderful.  The non-stop music of Mexico, from the cafes to the blaring car stereos, adds a constant soundtrack to my travels (even at 4 in the morning).  These tastes, smells, sounds and sights all add to the experience that is being an archaeologist, or just a traveler, in another land.  It’s the little things that make a trip special.  It’s the little things that will shape your memories of that place, a place traveled once upon a time.

The work also has it’s little intricacies, the small joys that make it possible to awake early the next day and do it all over again.  Finding an interesting artifact, distinct from the same old pottery we find everyday.  Something as trivial as a figurine, obsidian point, or even a new type of architecture gives you the energy to once again hike up the same, steep hill the following day, in hopes of a new, exciting find.  The area we are surveying is one that has not been done before, so everything we record is the first time an archaeologist has done so.  So everyday is something new and exciting, although to the layman’s eye, it all looks like a pile of rocks.  But one must notice the little things to understand the ancient site: the curves of the wall built 1000 years ago, the subtle room cut out of a natural rock outcrop, or merely picturing the site devoid of trees and shrubs, and imagining the beautiful view the ancient people once had from a open plaza on a cliff’s edge.

Little did I know that I would be working at such an amazing site two months ago.  The sheer density of structures puts the estimated population of the site in the tens of thousands, and although we don’t like using the term, one could put the title “city” on our site.  But in order to map, survey and collect artifacts from such a site, a feat in itself very daunting and intimidating, one must find joy in these little things to be able to continue each day the mentally and physically exhausting work that we do.  It is this love of the little things, in the minute details of the history, the everyday archaeological discoveries, the joy of a beer and homemade salsa after a day in the field, that allows for the everyday archaeologists like myself to persevere.