Beneath the Sands of Egypt (21 page)

The decayed wooden face from the water-damaged Twenty-second Dynasty coffin of a woman in KV 45.
PLU Valley of the Kings Project

Just a few yards away, KV 44 is architecturally similar to KV 45 and was probably constructed around the same time. Like KV 45, the tomb apparently held Eighteenth Dynasty burials and was flooded to the extent that it destroyed these earlier burials. It was then reused during the Twenty-second Dynasty, with the later coffins unashamedly placed directly atop the debris of the earlier entombments. While even the later burials were woefully destroyed by water in KV 45, Carter found some amazingly well-preserved items in Tomb 44. In his own words:

The intact coffins were removed from the tomb, and “No. 3” is on display in the Egyptian Museum in Cairo. Its occupant is named Tjentkerer, whose visage presents a lovely and poignant portrait of a young Egyptian woman. The whereabouts of the other two coffins is presently unknown.

The Twenty-second Dynasty coffins may have departed, but the flood debris containing what was left of the original burial remained for us to examine. The pile of dirt at first puzzled us; its surface was covered with what initially appeared to be rows of mud bricks. They proved in actuality to be the result of symmetrically cracked mud; the thick, fine silt deposited during flooding followed by drying was what produced their deceptive appearance. We sifted every remaining ounce of dirt from the tomb, and it was the extreme lack of artifacts that was notable. Unlike its neighbor KV 45, this simple tomb numbers only six items on our register of objects.

What KV 44 lacked in artifacts, it more than made up for in
human remains. What were once several wrapped mummies had through the destructive processes of water and mud become a large collection of bones. Our project's physical anthropologist, my former professor Daris Swindler, made an initial assessment and determined that there were several individuals represented, including teens and some children. Years later, when Jerome Cybulski took a much more detailed look, he came to a startling conclusion: KV 44 contained the remains of thirteen individuals, eight of whom were infants, another being a six-or seven-year-old girl, and the other four being young women in their teens or early twenties. What had happened? Was this a family burial in which individuals were added as they passed away? Or was there some sort of catastrophe, perhaps an epidemic, that tragically took all at once? There is certainly a story there that at present awaits further exploration.

Forensic anthropologist Dr. Jerry Cybulski, assisted by student Katie Hunt, sorting and analyzing the many human bones from KV 44 in a lab set up in the burial chamber of KV 21.
Denis Whitfill/PLU Valley of the Kings Project

The situation inside tomb KV 27 made the other tombs seem almost simple in comparison. Its shaft was mostly encumbered with dirt and garbage, and its four rooms were filled nearly to the ceiling with the debris from numerous episodes of flooding. It was a daunting challenge, and we purposefully left it for last, postponing the inevitable chore. To further discourage us, for a while at least, a vicious, protective mother dog guarded its entrance from intruders, her litter of puppies yipping in a back chamber. As a result it became necessary to make a wide detour around the tomb's entrance, lest the snarling creature emerge and present a genuine threat. We observed that the dog left the tomb at least twice a day to beg scraps of food from tourists near the old rest house, and at one point we decided that we would have to make a move. As Mama jogged away for her lunch, we entered the tomb and collected the puppies. A couple of our younger workmen volunteered to take them home to their village and uncharacteristically raise them as tame pets. Mom of course returned and was sufficiently angry and aggressive for a few days. But another litter was no doubt soon on the way, and she finally left, perhaps finding a home in yet another abandoned grotto.

We dug test pits in each of KV 27's four rooms to determine the depth of the deposit and to assist in future planning. This also enabled us to make a map of its interior features. One of the pits, in a room we labeled C, produced a sample of pottery that provided at least a tentative date—as expected, in the mid-Eighteenth Dynasty—that generally fits with the other tombs we were studying. But given its complicated nature, clearing KV 27 would eventually involve nearly four field seasons.

In 1993 we decided to dedicate several weeks to exploring conservation issues in the valley. It was a serious topic of general discussion at the time, and we felt we should make a contribution.
Heading up this study survey was John Rutherford, a structural engineer who had worked in the valley in the late 1970s and knew the place quite well. There were numerous tomb-damage variables to consider, and the kind inflicted by flooding certainly stood out as the most threatening. The valley serves as great natural drainage for the surrounding slopes, and a rare cloudburst above the Theban mountains can send fierce, churning torrents of water into the tombs below. With surveying instruments, Rutherford supervised our mapping of the valley's rim, taking note of hydrological patterns to assist in our threat evaluations.

We developed a study matrix in which each tomb could be assessed for a number of potentially destructive natural agents, including flooding. We visited nearly every accessible tomb in the valley, both large and small, and some, including KV 60, seemed relatively immune. Others, though, including KV 7, the tomb of the great pharaoh Rameses II, made the devastation in Tomb 27 look almost negligible. Rameses' tomb is immense, and those who aimed to explore it had to tunnel through corridors and chambers encumbered to the ceiling, the once beautifully decorated walls scoured by flood debris. We could see chunks of painted plaster embedded in the mess and were intimidated by the mere thought of clearing and documenting a tomb of such size and condition. The burial chamber, a large room with a vaulted ceiling and crumbling pillars, presented a sad and haunting, if not scary, appearance. Two of the most stunning surviving tombs in Egypt belong to Rameses' father, Seti I, and Rameses' wife, Nefertari. In its pristine state, KV 7 likely surpassed them both in beauty, but the power of nature easily surpassed that of even Rameses, leaving his tomb in utter ruin. (Fortunately, a dedicated French expedition has since taken on the immense burden of addressing the tomb, documenting and preserving that which can be salvaged.)

There was also concern about cracks appearing here and there in the valley's tombs. In the decorated tombs, cracks can severely damage beautiful paintings and, in the most extreme cases, cause pillars and ceilings to collapse. Water, too, can play a major role in all this, as the valley's limestone bedrock and underlying shale both swell when drenched by rain or flood. The process of soaking and swelling, cracking and drying, can leave a tomb in ruins. For our part we installed “crack monitors” in three of our tombs for long-term observation. The monitors are devices that are glued over a preexisting crack whose crosshairs lined up on a grid will detect any movement in the rock.

In 1994, the very year after our conservation study, a long-feared event occurred when a flood rampaged through the valley. There was damage to be sure (although not to the tombs we investigated), and there were lessons to be learned and a genuine call to action. In its aftermath many tomb entrances have been protected, and an impressive master conservation plan for the Valley of the Kings is well under way. Much of this is owed to the cooperative work of the Theban Mapping Project and the Egyptian antiquities authorities. The former spent years mapping the valley, collecting all known data on the tombs, monitoring their conditions, and facilitating a careful long-term strategy. As a result the valley's still-very-fragile tombs have a much greater chance of survival than ever before.

 

L
EST ONE GET
the idea that a digger's life in the Valley of the Kings is all work and heat, there are plenty of things to do in whatever spare time one might have. I personally like to explore the incredible number of ancient monuments in the Luxor area, and I especially enjoy hiking in the desert mountains. My favorite excursion
ascends the pyramid-like peak called “the Gurn,” which rises high above the Valley of the Kings. The view from its top is stunning: The stark contrast between the cultivated land and the desert, with the Nile separating the urban from the rural. The desolate desert valleys to the west, a Coptic monastery to the south, and the Valley of the Kings to the north. Many of the great West Bank monuments are visible, and across the river one can see the massive temples of Luxor and Karnak.

There are a number of trails in the Theban hills, some of which are quite popular with trains of tourists astride donkeys. On one occasion I thought it would be fun to own and raise my own donkey. I found an endearing little fellow on sale for about twenty-five dollars and kept him in a village at the home of two young brothers who worked with me. I named him Monkeyshines, and he was rather cute, as most baby animals are. He was much too small to ride, so, unlike many of his hardworking comrades who bore passengers or pulled carts, he had it easy. A maiden voyage across to the Valley of the Kings was a must, but the distance from the village to the trailhead was a bit far for the four-legged beginner. My driver, Shattah, rebelled when I suggested that we give Monkeyshines a lift for a few miles in the back of his new van. “He'll make a mess!” he complained, but finally agreed. Within minutes Shattah's prediction came true.

Monkeyshines was a good sport and seemed to enjoy the mountain hiking. When we reached the valley, Shattah hid his van off the road in fear that potential passengers might see us reloading the donkey into the vehicle.

At the end of the field season, I bade what I thought was a temporary adieu to my little buddy, but when I returned the following year, he was gone. “We ate him!” claimed his young keepers with a smirk. I didn't believe them. I've never heard of anyone eating
donkey meat in Egypt. I suspect they sold or traded him for one necessity or another.

And if trails, donkeys, tombs, and temples aren't enough, there is the city of Luxor itself, a world of its own, with its busy urban streets and many luxury hotels. From the city's location on the east bank of the Nile, one can comfortably gaze west across the river to a radically different land of villages, fields, and ancient cemeteries. A huge number of cruise ships can be found moored along the riverside avenue or “corniche,” sometimes four abreast, while buses loaded with tourists disgorge their passengers or move them on.