Free Beneath the Sands of Egypt by PhD Donald P. Ryan

to stir with the rising sun. At Quta the jeeps would then turn sharply south into the desert; a five-foot-wide canal separates the rich, verdant agricultural land from a desolate sea of sand that continues across Northern Africa to the Atlantic Coast. The difference is as stark as that between the moon and the earth, and without constant vigilance the green would succumb in short order.
    The vehicles usually rode easily across the sand. Landmarks here consisted of dunes, an occasional looted grave, and a small police outpost. After a while a low ridge was reached, and our site of investigation was situated immediately behind in an empty stretch of desert. Apart from ourselves, the rare scrubby bush and a solitary lizard were usually the only obvious visible signs of life.

    A view of the desolate desert region in the southwest Fayyum. In prehistoric times this area supported a lush environment and was home to some of Egypt’s earliest agriculturists.
Donald P. Ryan
    Despite the improbability that anyone would be living out in this remote wasteland, the evidence of human occupation was everywhere. The floor of the desert was virtually littered with ancient cultural debris. Flint tools, arrowheads, and, most abundant, the little stone chips left over from the manufacture of these tools could be found by anyone walking a few steps in any direction. Animal bones—many huge and fossilized—and gray rings of fire-crackedrocks from ancient campfires were scattered here and there. Large grinding stones and stone blades from sickles indicated that this was a site where early agriculture had been practiced. Incredibly, these remains still lay on the surface after many thousands of years, due to a natural process called deflation, in which the breath of the wind continuously blows the surface away from below the artifacts except for the occasional shifting dune that obliterates a section of the desert floor until it creeps on. During our time in the Fayyum, we were constantly reminded of the enormous environmental changes that had occurred since this material was originally deposited. The bones of fish and other animals indicated that this was once the very edge of a lake, now a fraction of its former size, and an area well occupied by people. With lush surroundings and an abundance of food, life was probably comfortable in the Fayyum six thousand years ago or so.
    Given such a large area to investigate, we had to content ourselves with merely sampling the site. Thus we established a large grid system across the area with surveying devices, and from this base map, five-meter grid squares were physically laid out on the surface with string. Inside a selection of these squares, artifacts, bones, and whatever else remained were intensely documented and collected. That was pretty much the agenda for three hot months. Day after day, laying out the lines, laying out the squares, and collecting, collecting and bagging, bagging and tagging. As monotonous as it all might seem, there were sporadic moments of genuine excitement with the occasional discovery of an exquisitely fashioned ancient projectile point or flint knife, or perhaps the remains of an exotic beast from days long gone by. It often bordered on fun.
    A lunch of bread, tuna fish, eggs, melons, and assorted items was consumed around ten o’clock, and work would stop by one. Did I happen to mention that it was hot? There was absolutely noshade to be had at our work site, other than that found beneath tarps stretched between the vehicles. Back at the house, a couple of hours of rest was followed by a few hours of lab work. There were always plenty of stone tools or bones to sort as well as artifacts to draw, and I tried a little of each. Each night’s dinner was a welcome mystery, followed by our gathering to listen to news from “the outside” courtesy of BBC on the radio, and then the evening brought pleasant breezes and easy sleep.

    The author’s