notebook entry
He came to pick me up the next morning because we were both heading towards the dig. I could not wait to see that rock face again. The sun is high already and I think it’s going to be a very hot and humid day, and still I am eager to be out. I feel a sense of electric excitement, being here, so far away from home and still “at home” in this place, this car, with this person I barely know. My backpack is heavy but I have chosen the 30lt because is more comfortable on my shoulders. He told me that it’s not going to be many students today, out with us, because it’s a sort of week-long holiday here and the univ expects students to [tale] take a break before the exams season begins. I look at him and realise that this is even better. I might be able to experience the drawings alone. In silence. Just me and the marks left on the rock. We will need to be careful in taking the ivy down as much as we can without disrupting the marks and also the balance that nature has created. This early morning I walked to the shopping mall close to my hotel for a solitary coffee and very so glad there was a stationary shop there and so I treated myself to [very possibly copies of] pencils, graphite, charcoal and a large portfolio. I feel ready.
He is driving in silence, window down, the highway almost empty. I am aware that this removal of ivy is more symbolic than practical. I feel like a child high on sugar: am I… are we going to uncover some hidden truth? Is this a metaphorical truth or a real one? Am I going to bring to light something about this population lost in time or / and … am I going to uncover something about me? I know that since I have started this journey there have been synchronicity and parallels which are very hard to describe. Every time I opened a book, I looked for an answer, I listened to a talk, I scribbled something in my journal [exactly like I am doing now], I am uncovering something about me, and me within a longer, wider, deeper timeframe, or timespan. What is it this “something” that is wrapping around, that has such a tight embrace on me and on my Being, her and now?
… We have arrived. Parking, offloading, our backpacks on our shoulders, fastened, helmets on, long socks and boots… we are ready. It doesn’t take too long to get to the face and most of the track is clear. For a brief moment I am thinking about my cats, back home, in rainy Manchester. Are they missing me? And why did I feel this wave, this surge of melancholia, exactly now? Shall I dismiss it, shall I try to remember for a later dissection? Is it deflection? Is it fear? My unconscious is bringing something up that is disrupting my state of being now.I will let it bubble, be there, observe it and then refocus on my next step and will move on.
I am looking at him, walking in front of me and I am wondering if he feels responsible. I mean, it seems he does. He was very keen in letting me know that he has extra chocolate, extra socks and extra coffee for me. For us. In the rare event that I probably crave caffeine, sugar and warm feet all at once. I know. I know. I have the same in my pack. Also an extra T-shirt coz I hate to have my back sweat and cold, and the top of my bikini, coz you never know… I am wearing my “paleophenomenology rocks” T-shirt, that very first one I made for my very first talk. It’s tatty, it’s got a hole on the right side, it looks frail. But I am convinced it brings me good luck and I feel I need all the help I can get.
And we are here, on this opening. I lift my head and I can see it; a wall of rock, right in front of me, covered in ivy. Some, at the very top, attached, angrily as a Bodhisattva protecting eternal wisdom, at the entrance of the Hall of Knowledge. From halfway down it’s more a native skirt, dancing in the wind. Like lost voices at sea singing a song that’s tantalising, seductive and provoking. There are Sirens even here, in the jungle, leading you to death, luring me to oblivion and ignorance. I feel immediately clumsy and silly. I don’t know where I should put my feet, my backpack, my soul and my voice seems to have gone. I might be low on sugars so I sit and grab a banana and some water. You don’t realise how tired you are until you stop and at times this might be too late. I should have had some breakfast before we set off but I was too eager, too excited and excitable. I turn my face, look at him, feel deeply ashamed. He is asking me: how do you want to do this?
I want one minute to recover. Then I know that I will be standing up, walk to the rock,place my hands on it, close my eyes. I will wait for the rock to speak to me. I know that my body will start gently swaying, left to right and back. Smells come second. Then sounds. I will get images, strong emotions.my body will translate the past for me and to me. I will then need my laptop and time to type everything. Anything that I think I have forgotten will appear again will I type.
“I just need time to do this…” I say.
“You have all the time you need” he says.