I love the story of how Trump was more enthusiastic about a roll of bread than gold. In fact, I think that the story of Trump’s tower throws light on his character and his love and passion for his career.
Hang on, lest you think I’ve suddenly become a fan of the wacko Republican presidential candidate: I am not referring to Trump Tower in Manhattan, but the Tal-Ġawhar Tower in puny Safi in Malta. And I am talking about David not Donald.
When archaeologist David Trump found a roll of bread in the ashes of a tower burnt dating back 1,700 years ago, he was more excited than when he stumbled upon a gold earring on the same site in Safi.
A gold earring tells you just that: it’s an accessory, our ancestors loved accessories made out of precious metal. Plenty had already been found in Punic sites in the Mediterranean.
But not a roll of bread. Ah, that allows us to take a sneak peek at past life: prehistoric people ate bread just like us.
How did they make it? When did they eat it? What did it taste like? Was it a staple or a luxury? Did they rub some form of tomatoes on it and went to eat by the sea? Did they add a touch of salt from dried up puddles by the sea? Did the bread mean a more settled lifestyle? Did they eat it on its own or with freshly hunted meat? All this and more must have gone through Trump’s mind when he stumbled upon the roll of bread, especially as it was the only bread roll from the Roman period found in the Mediterranean region, apart from Pompeii.
Trump, who led some of the most significant archaeological explorations in Malta, died this week. He first came to Malta in 1954 on an excavation trip at Ġgantija and was clearly besotted: he kept on visiting, staying, going and visiting some more, excavating a good number of sites, in particular Skorba in Mgarr, which turned out to be a treasure trove of information.
Just go to Haġar Qim and Mnajdra and marvel at those highly developed engineering feats
From 1986 to 1994 he was part of the team which excavated the Xagħra Circle – and that’s where I know with him. He was what, 63 at the time and I was a wide-eyed 18-year old archaeology student wearing a faux-Indiana Jones fedora hat.
I remember him and his wife Bridget clearly (an archaeologist should always marry an archaeologist, was his mantra), with trowel and bucket in hand, never without their caps and neck flaps. They were always the first to arrive on site at 6am and the last to leave it at 1pm.
Already he was a legendary in the world of archaeology; his book Malta: an Archaeological Guide was our bible and all of us first year students were in awe of him. But there was nothing Indiana Jones about his attitude. Remember, he predated Spielberg’s hero.
He spoke to me once, after I had (excitedly) unearthed the head of a small stone figurine, and I remember panicking because he spoke in that very typical British mumbling manner, and I worried that I had misunderstood his packing instructions. (The figurine survived my packing is now exhibited at the Ġgantija resource centre: I still beam with pride every time I go there).
His demise this week made me think about the special place Malta has in the history of the evolution of humankind. If only we stopped to appreciate that, I think we’d be cured of our national malaise of inferiority complex.
Who needs the Eurovision platform to show the barrani that we can do it, when our prehistoric temples are the earliest known examples of pre-designed architecture, and were built even before the pyramids? When the phenomenon of sophisticated rock-carved architecture at hypogeum of Ħal Saflieni predates Petra, by well over two millennia? And when the pattern of stone-carved spirals still rank among the finest abstract creations of world art?
Just go to Haġar Qim and Mnajdra and marvel at those highly developed engineering feats. Can you imagine the super-organised human resources, the high calibre craftsmanship and the artistic flair to build monuments like that? All in an archipelago that lacks resources. It just makes me suck my breath in: we were simply an amazing people back then.
Scientific dating techniques, pottery analyses, pollen analyses, DNA, and carbon dating will throw more light on our past. But future work in Maltese archaeology will require a heavy investment. Will there ever be a proper budget for it? How good it would have been if the Gasans and the Tumases of this world invested in exploring past towers rather than building ugly new ones.
If only investors understood that archaeology is a very powerful way of understanding the puzzles of our past and present: climate change and fuel use, the rise and decline of complex societies, sex, death, war, wealth, poverty, ability, love, success and happiness.
We owe David Trump for making our rich prehistoric catalogue more accessible. A case in point is the brilliant way he brought to life the bread roll: “My story is this: the lady of the house was inside when the fire alarm was raised. She dashed out, grabbing her jewel box, tripped on the buckets, dropped the box … and then made a dash for the door and the open air, missing one earring.”
Sounds like a movie, but it’s real life.
krischetcuti@gmail.com
Twitter: @KrisChetcuti