When I was a teenager, I watched a TV documentary about a frozen human body discovered at the top of Mount Ampato in Peru. This girl, called ‘Juanita’ or the Inca Ice Mummy, had been a human sacrifice and was killed around 1450 at the age of about fourteen – the same age as me. Her body was mummified and preserved in the permafrost, meaning her clothes, her hair and even her stomach, which contained her last meal, were all still intact.
Using a range of scientific techniques and historical and anthropological knowledge, the anthropologist-archaeologist-mountaineers who discovered Juanita were able to unravel the story of her last months, weeks and hours. I was amazed to learn that discovering and explaining such mysteries could be a real job. Anthropology and archaeology, and the challenge of making the strange familiar and the familiar strange, gripped me.
In preparation for university interviews I found an archaeological dig in Cheshire who were willing to let me and my friend Helen camp and help for a week. There was a Portaloo, a bumpy field for camping and a ‘rubble tent’ with chairs, tables and an unlimited supply of hot tea, served in brown-coloured mugs. The professional archaeologists were the coolest people I had ever met. They seemed more wanderers than professors emeritus, but it was clear that they were intellectual and scientific heavyweights, piecing together the story of a complex site spanning thousands of years of human activity.
I helped excavate the foundations of a medieval chapel, and the skeletons buried around it. To my untrained eye, there were no obvious tracks above the ground – it was just a grassy field. But it had always been known as Chapel Field, and generations of farmers had avoided plowing the area for fear of throwing up large blocks of stone.
To the archaeologists, who could read the landscape in a way I could not, its history was obvious. I helped dig up a large, middle-aged male skeleton. The bones were robust and he was probably part of the local farming community that used the chapel in the 13th century. He once broke one of his fingers and it healed crooked. It seemed like such an intimate and personal detail of someone’s life many centuries ago. It reminded us that this wasn’t just a skeleton, but a person.
Archeology is the study of the human past through material remains – from buildings, tools and crafts to burial sites and human bodies. Often the things archaeologists discover are objects that have been thrown away, lost or buried. This ‘nonsense’ tells the story of old lives.
There were stones, chunks of clay, and there it was: the smooth, curved head of a long, thin, ivory-white pin
Archaeologists can even study the preserved plaque on ancient teeth and the poop at the bottom of privies to see what people ate. Gross, but also super cool. The real value of these myriad materials lies in how they are connected – where the flakes of a flint tool are located in relation to a fireplace, how a shrine is aligned with the sunrise, or how a site has been reused and has been redesigned. by successive generations. Based on individual data points, archaeologists build a web of understanding.
Television programs such as Digging for Britain and Time Team capture the wonder of discovering that past, the precision of archaeological techniques and several big, tough questions. Why do people – across time and cultures – do so many strange and amazing things? How did people in the past deal with life’s challenges that we still struggle with today – whether it’s building a rainproof roof, growing food, transporting babies comfortably, choosing a leader, understanding death or keeping their loved ones safe? That stimulating curiosity is what drives my work: making TV and radio programs and writing books about the past.
Community archeology projects are often looking for volunteers. Good excavations welcome people with physical disabilities and additional support needs, ensuring they are given tasks and training that are comfortable, meaningful and meet their needs.
Projects require people to clean and process finds, maintain digital and written records, use technology to collect and interpret data – from photographing finds and processing lidar (laser) scans to photogrammetry, which uses millions of still photographs to build or find a 3D model of a site. They need people who enjoy talking to visitors, who have a talent for presentation and creativity. They also need people who don’t want to be on site at all, but can work from home, view documents and maps, do archival research and explore other research opportunities. Then there’s the support needed to keep websites and social media accounts busy and up to date, arranging financing, writing press releases and all the other back office work that keeps the trowels turning.
A few years ago I was volunteering at Chester Farm, near Wellingborough in Northamptonshire. It’s a beautiful location, close to a prehistoric (and later Roman) river crossing. There is evidence of more than 10,000 years of human activity along the riverbank and in the surrounding fields; this one site tells the story of the province.
On the day I helped out, I was fortunate enough to be assigned to excavate part of an edge ditch. The archaeologists knew it was Roman, but they weren’t sure how deep or wide it was, or whether there was anything interesting in the ancient silt and rubbish that now filled the ditch. I scraped away, looking for differences in color and texture that would indicate a change in the shape of the ditch. There were stones, chunks of clay, and there it was: the smooth, curved head of a long, thin, ivory-white pin.
I once sat in a cave shelter eating sandwiches, knowing that Mesolithic people had eaten shellfish there 7,000 years earlier
It was an intact Roman hairpin made of cow bone. I was the first person to hold it for 1,800 years; the last person to get their hands on it was probably the one who dropped it.
Archeology can also be therapeutic. For a BBC radio podcast, I spent the day with Breaking Ground Heritage, which uses archeology as a recovery pathway for serving and former military personnel. They conduct groundbreaking archaeological research while providing therapeutic support. Archaeological fieldwork, it turns out, can be like a military campaign. You keep going in all weather conditions, you have to combine physical skill with mental agility, and you pay close attention to the small details while keeping the big picture in mind. And the camaraderie is second to none: when PTSD demons come at night and sleep isn’t easy, you can bet there will be someone else in the diner going through it, too. Mastering a new skill brings confidence, control, pride and resilience.
Some of my most magical archaeological encounters have been with entire landscapes, rather than with specific artifacts. I once sat in a cave in Torridon in the north-west Highlands eating my sandwich, knowing that Mesolithic hunter-gatherers had eaten roasted hazelnuts and shellfish in the same spot 7,000 years earlier. I had found the site by searching Canmore’s database of Scottish archaeological sites to see if there were any nearby.
Dartmoor’s Bronze Age stone rows, monoliths (standing stones) and hut circles are fantastic. You can still walk through an old doorway to the remains of a family home from 4,000 years ago. On Ilkley Moor you can explore the mysterious rock art carved into earth-solid boulders (a GPS trail leads to the finest examples).
Further north are Kilmartin Glen, with cairns, standing stones and petroglyphs (Kilmartin Museum is stunning) and Dunadd, where you can place your foot in the form of a carved footstep that was used as part of the inauguration ceremonies of Gaelic and Pictish kings . Callanish (also Calanais), in Lewis, South Ronaldsay and Mainland in Orkney are landscapes packed with traces of ancient people. It is amazing to explore the landscapes they knew and marvel at the coherence, meaning and effort it all represents. We can’t be sure of all the answers, but the questions are compelling.
Related: ‘An awe-inspiring journey back in time’: readers’ favorite ancient sites in Europe
During a Time Team dig, I sat next to Phil Harding as he cleared a layer of sandy soil. The cameras were elsewhere, but I was happy to watch him and learn something. “Oh ho,” he muttered. I couldn’t see anything – what had he seen? He revealed that he couldn’t see anything either, yet. But he had felt a change in the texture of the ground through his trowel, so he knew he was hitting a point. Sure enough, he had reached the edge of a wall we were looking for.
It seems like magic, but it is actually years of expertise, perfectly honed in a discipline that encompasses both art and science. And a whole host of satisfyingly mysterious ‘whys’.
Mary-Ann Ochota’s books, Secret Britain: Unearthing Our Mysterious Past, and Hidden Histories: A Spotter’s Guide to the British Landscape, are available at guardianbookshop.com
Get involved
• The Council for British Archeology (CBA) lists fieldwork opportunities annually. It runs clubs for young archaeologists across the country, as well as the annual nationwide Festival of Archaeology, offering special events, activities and access to sites across the country. This year the festival will take place from 13 to 28 July 2024. The CBA also trains volunteers to become volunteers for Monument Care.
• Each of the homelands has an online catalog of heritage and archaeological sites:
England: Heritage Gate
Wales: Coflein
Scotland: Canmore
Northern Ireland: HERONI
• The Portable Antiquities Scheme has a database of more than 1.7 million finds made in England and Wales, mainly by metal detectorists. You can see what artifacts have been found in your area, read guides to identifying certain types of artifacts or coins, and get advice on how to metal detect responsibly and what to do if you find something.
• Discover old maps alongside modern maps and satellite images at the National Library of Scotland’s maps.nls.uk/ site.
• Many counties conduct church graffiti surveys, such as the Norfolk Medieval Graffiti Survey.
• The Ramblers are recruiting volunteers to conduct historic landscape research to protect ancient paths, dontloseyourway.ramblers.org.uk/