Olmec Obituary

by L. J. M. Owen

  Elizabeth continued to flip through the volume. Ah, here were the obligatory fringe theories of origin: the Olmecs were a group of globe-trotting sub-Saharan Africans. They were a group of globe-trotting Mormons. They were a globe-trotting lost tribe of Israel.

  Elizabeth looked at Billy and shook her head. Ancient African invasions of Mexico – really? But then she cautioned herself. There actually had been groups of Chinese, South Pacific Islanders and Vikings who made it to the Americas long before Columbus…as had the indigenous inhabitants, of course. There was even good archaeological evidence of trade, either direct or via intermediaries, between ancient Egypt and ancient Peru. So perhaps the idea wasn’t so far-fetched.

  The ‘evidence’ cited to support the sub-Saharan African theory of Olmec origin brought a smile to Elizabeth’s face: it was true persuado-science. Elizabeth had first coined the term – a deliberate mispronunciation of ‘pseudoscience’ – in response to Taid’s tongue-in-cheek assertion that Welsh explorers had roamed the planet in ancient times. Like a child cutting the corners off a puzzle piece to make it fit, then proudly declaring the puzzle finished, Taid had reverse-engineered much archaeological and genetic evidence to support his worldwide Welsh theory. Elizabeth had laughingly interrupted his exposition to remind him that the Patagonian Welsh colonies were only founded in the mid-1800s.

  Hmmm. Tangential thought process. She needed to focus.

  Okay, nothing here was specific to the biological anthropology of Mesoamerica. Time to concentrate and retrieve everything she had ever read on Mesoamerican archaeology.

  Sitting up straight in her phrenic library’s wing chair, Elizabeth closed her eyes. In the buzzing darkness she saw book spines, diagrams, photographs and journal articles whiz past her. Tomes on Mesoamerican art, writing and architecture piled one on top of the other next to her on a beautiful zelij-tile side table.

  Flicking through them, Elizabeth realised there was nothing here on skeletal remains or genetics. How could she not have read anything on Mesoamerican palaeogenetics?

  She checked the publication date of a number of items. Right! These were all from her first year at university, before she became captive to biological anthropology. Most of this material was close to ten years old…She definitely needed to do some research to bring herself up to date.

  She would go to the lab tomorrow and meet Carl Schmidt. If she agreed to work for him, she could catch up by studying Olmec archaeology in the evening.

  Leaning back in her wing chair, Elizabeth directed each of the books to return to their rightful place on the shelves of her library. Smiling fondly at the marvellous refuge she had created for herself, she reached out to give Billy a pat goodbye.

  —

  Early the next morning Elizabeth carefully picked out an outfit to complement her Welsh-green eyes and light honey skin. Over black cargo pants she added layered singlets of dark green and black, and a black jacket teamed with a pale lime-green scarf. She would need to wear sunglasses when driving, so she popped in her contacts. Her rich chestnut hair, which insisted on a style Elizabeth thought of as ‘bouffant,’ engulfed her face in its usual unrepentant waves.

  Elizabeth couldn’t face breakfast, but she did want coffee. As she poured herself a cup, Grandmère Maddie pressed a petit en case on her. Elizabeth made a show of securing this emergency supply of nuts and dried fruit in her satchel, then exited the kitchen through the door to the garage.

  The roads were empty. As Elizabeth drove she tried to breathe deeply and relax. She was hit with a barrage of memories instead: her first day at university, her first lecture, meeting Luke, and working next to Rhys Jones, archaeological legend and Welsh compatriot of her grandfather.

  Pulling into the car park closest to the laboratory, Elizabeth paused. What if she didn’t like Carl, or worse, he didn’t want her to work for him? Elizabeth drew in a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, then let it out slowly as she exited the car.

  As she walked to the building’s lower entrance, where the laboratory lay half-sunk into the ground, Elizabeth felt the edges of an old happiness – her unreasoning love of archaeology and the joy it brought her. She had never found the words to explain it adequately to anyone, not even Taid. There was no reason to it – it just felt right. She could be brushing dirt away from fragments of stone, or reconstructing an earthen­ware bowl, or piecing together the lives of humans long past, it didn’t matter. In that world she felt whole, free, complete.

  Elizabeth didn’t have to wait long inside at the lab’s door. Two sets of footsteps echoed down the stairwell at the end of the corridor. Juan’s Spanish accent rang out as he and another man rounded the corner.

  ‘Hola, Elizabeth. This is Dr Carl Schmidt,’ Juan said, looking at the taller man with something akin to infatuation.

  Carl reached for Elizabeth’s hand, his pale-blue eyes meeting hers. Goodness! With his exceptionally pale skin and dark wavy hair, Carl was strikingly handsome.

  ‘Hello Elizabeth, very pleased to meet you. Thank you for coming in on your weekend.’

  Elizabeth returned his greeting. He seemed pleasant.

  ‘Shall we?’ Carl inserted a key into the laboratory door, ushering her inside.

  Stepping into the lab ahead of the two men, Elizabeth was flooded with exhilaration. Her delight in the minutiae of archaeology had always been accepted here at the university. It was almost intoxicating to be back.

  Carl was waxing lyrical about Juluwik and his hopes for an initial publication in just two months’ time. Elizabeth wasn’t listening. Her mind recorded the conversation between Carl and Juan for analysis later, and focused instead on the lab.

  Everything in the room was a little old and broken down: shabby, dirty white walls, dreadful green carpet tiles, cheap Formica benches and cupboards with flimsy locks. Elizabeth breathed deeply…and that strange smell. Not bad, exactly, just musty in a way that no amount of fresh air could ever hope to shift. By the gods had she missed this place!

  ‘As Juan would have told you,’ Carl was saying, ‘we have seventeen skeletons so far. Three adult males, one adult female – that’s the ballplayer – and thirteen juveniles. The most exciting part about the site is, of course, the writing, but the fact that we have a royal cemetery here will also attract a lot of attention.’

  Elizabeth made a noise of acknowledgement. In the corner she spied Fred, the laboratory’s skeleton, an ex-six foot two Scandinavian man. Poor Fred. He was regularly kidnapped by undergrad students and strapped to one of the horses on the city centre’s carousel.

  Juan unlocked one of the cupboards and shuttled boxes onto a work bench as Carl pulled on some latex gloves.

  ‘So, Elizabeth, I’m sure you’re as eager as everyone else to be part of such a significant site,’ Carl said. ‘Do you have any questions?’

  ‘Yes,’ Elizabeth snapped out of her reverie. ‘I’d like to understand how the site was discovered, how far the excavation has progressed and how large it is.’

  ‘Some good questions,’ Carl replied. ‘The site was first discovered more than a year ago. Someone’s dog became lost in the jungle near Juluwik. The dog somehow got stuck in the cave, and the locals had to dig it out. Once inside they saw the relief on the wall. Thankfully, they were civic-minded enough to ring the local museum instead of looting the site for treasure.’

  ‘Lupita’s people are civilised, Carl!’ Juan objected.

  ‘You know what I mean, Juan. Many people would put making a quick profit ahead of preserving history.’

  ‘Perhaps.’ Juan seemed placated.

  ‘I’m quite well known at the museums in Mexico,’ Carl continued, ‘so they contacted me and asked me to do an initial assessment. Once I saw the carvings on the wall of the cave, I knew it was an important site. I explored the area using thermal imaging, and was amazed to discover the foundations of a huge ceremonial complex, maybe even larger than San Lorenzo!’

  Elizabeth warmed towards Carl’s passion for his subjec
t.

  ‘Fortunately, Juan was already working for me at Tajinel, and agreed to move to Juluwik. He was able to translate some of the writing immediately. Once he worked out the words for ‘royal’ and ‘burial’, I knew it was the site of a royal cemetery. Using ground-penetrating radar, I could see the grave goods. When we dug up the floor of the cave I was amazed that the skeletal remains were so intact.’

  ‘They are very remarkable, Elizabeth,’ Juan said. ‘You will be happy to work on them.’

  ‘I haven’t agreed yet.’ Elizabeth smiled politely at both men.

  ‘Indeed,’ Carl said. ‘Although Juan completed an initial assessment of the skeletal remains, I need him to focus on other things. None of my other team members in Mexico have a background in skeletal analysis, and since we’re funded by the uni, I shipped the remains back here. I intended for one of the PhD students to work on them, but he’s heading to Africa for his fieldwork. So Juan suggested you. He said you’re the best.’

  Juan, standing slightly behind Carl, nodded his agreement.

  ‘It’s an incredible opportunity,’ Carl said. ‘A ground­break­ing discovery like this could make all our careers. It could certainly help win funding for the next phase of my program. After this season, I’d like to expand the project to three full-time teams for at least the next five years.’

  It was only two years since Elizabeth had worked at the university. She didn’t remember Carl being around then, she realised, but he seemed entrenched now. When had he arrived? She would ask Tanya the next time they Skyped – Tanya knew all the gossip.

  ‘How many excavations are you running in Mexico?’ she asked. ‘And how many are linked to the research program here?’

  Carl beamed. ‘It’s an interesting story. It all came together about two years ago, when I was in Córdoba, brushing up on my Spanish.’

  Elizabeth was puzzled. Carl was in Córdoba just before Juluwik was discovered?

  ‘That’s a bit of a coincidence,’ she said, before he could continue.

  ‘Hmmm? Yes, I suppose so,’ Carl answered, opening the first box. ‘Why don’t I tell you about it as we look over the remains? Here’s our ball-playing lady,’ he said, lifting a strangely misshapen cranium into the light.

  The forehead of the skull sloped backwards to form an extremely high, long plane, making the skull look larger than normal and slightly alien. Elizabeth gasped. Artificial cranial deformation. Fantastic!

  ‘Or, we can go into it another time,’ said Carl, smiling at the look on Elizabeth’s face.

  Elizabeth was utterly captivated. This was archaeology. The weird and wonderful things human beings did to themselves, the traces they left, and the stories told by their remains. When did this woman’s ancestors first realise they could shape a baby’s head without hurting them? How had this particular deformation been performed? Why? What significance did it have? Was it seen as beautiful? Or did it signify a particular place in society? So many questions.

  Elizabeth was aware that both Carl and Juan were staring at her.

  ‘What do you think?’ Carl asked.

  ‘Well, there’s obviously artificial cranial deformation. I’m surprised you didn’t mention it, Juan,’ Elizabeth said.

  ‘I thought you knew, no?’ Juan said. ‘This practice is common in early Mesoamerican people.’

  ‘No, Elizabeth,’ Carl said. ‘I meant, what do you think about contributing to the first publication? It’s possible we’ll discover more cemeteries like this, too. It would be good to have a single person work on them, especially someone who is as talented as you.’

  Elizabeth knew Carl was trying to flatter her into agreeing to undertake the work, but she didn’t care. She felt solid and real for the first time in more than a year. How could she say no?

  ‘And here’s her effigy. Or, at least, that’s what we think it is.’ Carl pulled a small clay statue from another box.

  It looked like a figurine for a B-grade movie about topless women competing in rollerskate derbies, right down to the rounded crash helmet with side straps. How bizarre! The figurine may have been a three-thousand-year-old depiction of a woman playing a gruelling and violent forerunner to basketball, but it would also be right at home among modern movie merchandise.

  ‘Arresting, isn’t it?’ Carl asked.

  ‘Yes, it is,’ Elizabeth replied. She knew there was no point in trying to hide her eagerness now. ‘So, how would this work?’

  ‘Juan told me you work at the Mahony Griffin during the week, so I thought you could come in on weekends?’

  Elizabeth nodded.

  ‘Did Juan tell you that I can’t afford to pay you at the moment?’ Carl asked. ‘So it would be voluntary, at least for now.’

  ‘Yes, he told me,’ Elizabeth said, glancing at Juan. He had a look on his face she couldn’t interpret. ‘I need to discuss it with my family first, but I’d like to come in next Saturday and see how it goes.’

  ‘That sounds good. Let’s pack this lady away for now,’ Carl said, gesturing at Juan to take care of it. He handed an envelope to Elizabeth. ‘Here’s a set of keys to the lab.’

  Elizabeth didn’t mention that she still had her own set in a drawer at home, left over from her doctoral days.

  ‘How about you come in and make a start next Saturday morning, and I’ll come in later in the day to see how you’re going?’ Carl said.

  ‘That sounds good,’ Elizabeth agreed.

  ‘Excellent.’

  ‘I predicted you would say yes, Elizabeth,’ Juan said.

  ‘Yes, you did.’ Elizabeth reminded herself to smile. ‘Are the records for the site in the same cupboards as the skeletal remains? I’ll start looking at them next week, too.’

  ‘Yes,’ Carl said.

  As they left the lab, Elizabeth decided she’d start with a basic assessment of all the remains, see where that led, and try to have a draft report to Carl in a fortnight. Opening her car door she felt another wave of elation. She couldn’t wait to spend more time with the ballplayer and her companions.

  —

  At five o’clock the following Saturday morning Elizabeth finally gave up on sleep. She had lain awake most of the night, willing dawn to come closer. Carl planned to come into the lab at the end of the day and she wanted to have made real progress by then.

  Disentangling herself from a sleepy Seshet and a grumpy Thoth, Elizabeth wished the cats weren’t so possessive of her body heat. With the nights getting cooler they no longer slept on the balcony but crawled under the covers and attached themselves to her. Even a semicircle of light scratches on her thigh couldn’t dim her mood now, though. She was returning to her first great love today. No offence to Luke, of course.

  After dressing, Elizabeth donned her precious cartouche necklace. She smiled at the graduation present from her father. He had been so proud of her the day she walked across the stage in her graduate robes. He would have been proud of her today, too, she was sure.

  Elizabeth packed pens, pencils, paper, ruler, scale, camera and laptop into her Rosetta Stone-print satchel. Pausing to run her palm over the cherished knapsack, she recalled the hours she spent in the bowels of the British Museum of Natural History. The three months she spent there, collecting data from the Petrie collection for her PhD, were the highlight of her life until those few brief weeks in Egypt. Perhaps that would be replaced by a new high point now that she was going to work on a record-breaking find from the Americas. Yay!

  As she descended the stairs to the foyer, Elizabeth was so deeply immersed in her thoughts that she didn’t see Nainai waiting for her at the bottom.

  ‘Ní hǎo, xiǎo Yīlìshābái.’

  ‘Nín hǎo, Nainai!’ Elizabeth exclaimed, trying to slow her heartbeat as her adrenaline surged. She wouldn’t need coffee now.

  ‘Come into the kitchen,’ Nainai said. ‘We have a surprise for you.’ Not for the first time, Elizabeth was struck by how much better Nainai Cho’s English was than Grandmère Maddie’s.


  Grandmère Maddie and Taid were waiting for them in the kitchen with a plunger of French vanilla coffee and an oven tray of mouth-watering apricot and custard pastries. A gorgeous little woven picnic basket lay open on the bench, displaying a packed lunch of chicken salad sandwiches and Welsh dragon biscuits. A thermos and her unbreakable Eeyore mug sat beside the box. Elizabeth’s soul swelled with affection for her grandparents. They must have risen very early to prepare such lovely treats for her.

  ‘You are lit up from the inside, my lovely Beth bach,’ Taid said. ‘Good luck today.’

  As she drove to the lab, still glowing from her grandparents’ endearing gesture, Elizabeth’s thoughts turned to her week’s research. In the evenings she had read everything she could find on Mesoamerican artificial cranial deformation, the likely diet and lifestyle of her skeletal population, and the injuries a serious player of the ballgame could expect.

  The method of ballplay had varied across time and geography, but centred on using the hips, upper arms or legs to force a heavy ball of solid rubber up and through a vertical hoop. Degree of difficulty: way higher than basketball. Rebounding three or four kilos of solid rubber off your hipbone must have really hurt. Despite wearing helmets, thick padding over the whole pelvic girdle, and often massive arm protectors, the players sustained injuries from both the impact of the ball and from falling to the ground afterwards.

  During the week Elizabeth had also worked out her approach to the skeletal analysis. She would start with all the basic analyses Carl could ask for, then see if there was anything special she could add. Perhaps a dental non-metrics analysis? That might allow her to write a second paper where she would be the primary author. Fingers crossed.