On fieldwork, the most tiring part of the week is actually the day off (once every 10 days). This involves trying to sleep through the horrendous noise of construction and seguridad walkie-talkies in the early morning, packing your bikini and stumbling into the truck headed for the beach with a cuba libre hangover from the night before. Once on the beach, the warm wind and the hot sun do not mitigate the symptoms - this is only achieved by a paddle and a fruit punch and a gentle game of beach petanque. After this you have to decide what on earth to do with the rest of the hours in the day, which may seem like an easy task after 10 days non-stop work, but after the regimented existence of fieldwork, in which every waking second is filled with a task - documenting, list-making, digging, driving, loading, unloading, labeling, sorting - all capacity for self determination is sapped. I think this is mainly my problem, as most of the others manage to successfully chill in a hammock and read a book.

The BBQ the other week was another Cabo style, sweaty, dancy, flamed chicken filled fiesta. This time, for the first time, we came fully armed with BBQ griddle and tongs (not to mention the case full of ice and beer which we never forget). The tongs, thoughtfully purchased from the Blokker in the Netherlands by Menno, and transported across the Atlantic to prevent us burning our flesh, snapped within seconds - fine for a dalliance with a few sausages on a gas BBQ in a Dutch backyard, but evidently not up to the job of a tropical 30 man feast. It was back to sticks and penknives again, only this time we had a Cabo fire stoker to hand - an old man who expertly raked the embers and fished fallen drumsticks from the flames.
The party was excellent - we bachata'ed till gone midnight. Only those of us who know El cabo form previous years noticed that there were far fewer people in the village, and a more staid atmosphere. It gets quieter every time we come, as people move away from an area which is soon to be transformed into another toursit zone.

The trucks have just left for the field, leaving me behind. I am going to Jamaica for 3 days to a conference. I feel like I have abandoned them all. I know the speed at which we are working will mean the site will be transformed when I return - more squares open, more spoil heaps undulating across the terrain, more finds bags and occurences... until the next time...