?P11??A brief history of religion in?art?

? ? ? It's only been the last few hundreds years or so that Western civilization has been putting art in museums, at least museums resembling the public institutions we know today. Before this, for most, art served other purposes.?

? ? ? What we call fine art today was, in fact, primarily how people experienced an aesthetic dimension of religion. Paintings, sculpture, textiles and illuminations were the media of their time, supplying vivid imagery to accompany the stories of the day. In this sense, Western art shared a utilitarian purpose with other cultures around the world, some of whose languages incidentally have no word for art.?

? ? ? ?So how do we define what we call art? Generally speaking, what we're talking about here is work that visually communicates meaning beyond language, either through representation or the arrangement of visual elements in space. Evidence of this power of iconography, or ability of images to convey meaning, can be found in abundance if we look at art from the histories of our major world religions. Almost all have, at one time or another in their history, gone through some sort of aniconic phase. Aniconism prohibits any visual depiction of the divine. This is done in order to avoid idolatry, or confusion between the representation of divinity and divinity itself. Keeping it real, so to speak, in the relationship between the individual and the divine. However, this can be a challenge to maintain, given that the urge to visually represent and interpret the world around us is a compulsion difficult to suppress. For example, even today, where the depiction of Allah or the Prophet Muhammad is prohibited, an abstract celebration of the divine can still be found in arabesque patterns of Islamic textile design, with masterful flourishes of brushwork and Arabic calligraphy, where the words of the prophet assume a dual role as both literature and visual art. Likewise, in art from the early periods of Christianity and Buddhism, the divine presence of the Christ and the Buddha do not appear in human form but are represented by symbols. In each case, iconographic reference is employed as a form of reverence. Anthropomorphic representation, or depiction in human form, eventually became widespread in these religions only centuries later, under the influence of the cultural traditions surrounding them.?

? ? ? ?Historically speaking, the public appreciation of visual art in terms other than traditional, religious or social function is a relatively new concept. Today, we fetishize the fetish, so to speak. We go to museums to see art from the ages, but our experience of it there is drastically removed from the context in which it was originally intended to be seen. It might be said that the modern viewer lacks the richness of engagement that she has with contemporary art, which has been created relevant to her time and speaks her cultural language. It might also be said that the history of what we call art is a conversation that continues on, as our contemporary present passes into what will be some future generation's classical past. It's a conversation that reflects the ideologies, mythologies, belief systems and taboos and so much more of the world in which it was made. But this is not to say that work from another age made to serve a particular function in that time is dead or has nothing to offer the modern viewer. Even though in a museum setting works of art from different places and times are presented alongside each other, isolated from their original settings, their juxtaposition has benefits. Exhibits are organized by curators, or people who've made a career out of their ability to recontextualize or remix cultural artifacts in a collective presentation. As viewers, we're then able to consider the art in terms of a common theme that might not be apparent in a particular work until you see it alongside another, and new meanings can be derived and reflected upon. If we're so inclined, we might even start to see every work of art as a complementary part of some undefined, unified whole of past human experience, a trail that leads right to our doorstep and continues on with us, open to anyone who wants to explore it.

P12? ?A curable condition that causes blindness

? ? An estimated 20 million cases of blindness worldwide are caused by cataracts, a curable condition affecting the lens that focuses images onto the eye's retina. A cataract occurs when proteins in the lens lose their normal arrangement, clumping together in a way that causes discoloration or clouding, and eventually blocks most vision. Cataracts can be caused by eye injury, certain medications, ultraviolet radiation, diabetes, smoking, or some genetic disorders. But the most common cause is aging. In the United States, more than 50% of people over the age of 80 develop them. Cataracts were treated over 2,500 years ago in India, though similar procedures may have existed even earlier in Ancient Egypt and Babylon. The most common procedure, called couching, involved pressing a sharp instrument into the eye to loosen and push the clouded lens out of the way. Although this could increase the amount of light entering the eye, the lack of a lens would leave the patient's vision out of focus. Despite its low success rate, and high risk of infection or injury, couching is still performed in some parts of the world. Later procedures would also focus on removing the cloudy lens, for example, by making an opening in the cornea to pull out the lens along with the membrane capsule surrounding it. While the invention of eyeglasses allowed for some restoration of focus, they had to be extremely thick to help. Furthermore, such techniques still caused complications, like damaging the retina, or leaving the eye with uncomfortable stitches.?

? ? ?But in the 20th century, something unexpected happened. Eye surgeon Sir Harold Ridley was treating World War II casualties when he noticed that acrylic plastic from a shattered aircraft cockpit had become lodged in a pilot's eyes without triggering an adverse reaction. This led him to propose surgically implanting artificial lenses into the eye to replace cataracts. And despite initial resistance, the method became standard practice by the 1980s. Since Ridley's discovery, the intraocular lens has undergone several improvements. Modern lenses can fit into the membrane capsule that the cataract is extracted from, leaving more of the eye's natural anatomy intact. And the ability to fine-tune the lens curvature allows the surgery to restore a patient's normal vision without the need for glasses. Of course, surgical techniques have also progressed. Microscopic procedures use small instruments or lasers to make precise incisions of one or two millimeters in the cornea, while an ultrasound probe breaks up and removes the cataracted lens with minimal trauma to the eye. Low-tech versions of this operation have made the surgery quick and inexpensive, helping it spread across the developing world. Places like Aravind Eye Hospital in India have pioneered high-volume, low-cost cataract surgery for as little as six dollars. Why then, with all these advances, are there still so many blind people in the world? The main issue is access to health care, with poor infrastructure and a shortage of doctors being a major barrier in many regions. But this is not the only problem. In many rural areas with poor education, blindness is often accepted as an inevitable part of aging, for which someone might not think to seek treatment. This is why information is crucial. Increased community awareness programs and the spread of mobile phones mean that many of those who might have remained blind for the rest of their lives due to cataracts are now reachable. And for them, a brighter future is in sight.

P13??A day in the life of a Cossack warrior

? ? ? Despite a serene sunset on the Dnipro river, the mood is tense for the Zaporozhian Cossacks. The year is 1676, and the Treaty of ?urawno has officially ended hostilities between the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth and the Ottoman Empire. But as Stepan and his men ride towards their stronghold, peace is far from their minds. Having made their home in the Wild Fields north of the Black Sea, these cossacks— derived from a Turkic word for "free man"— are renowned as one of Europe’s most formidable military forces. Composed of hunters, fishermen, nomads and outlaws, the Cossacks found freedom in these fertile unclaimed lands. Yet this freedom has proven increasingly difficult to maintain. Their decades-long strategy of shifting alliances between Poland and Moscow has led to the partitioning of their lands. In a desperate bid to reclaim independence and reunite the fractured Cossack state, their most recent leader, hetman Petro Doroshenko allied with the Ottoman Empire. This alliance successfully freed the Zaporozhian Cossacks in the west from Polish dominion, but their victory was a bitter one. Doroshenko’s Ottoman allies ravaged the countryside, carrying off peasants into slavery. And outrage at allying with Muslims against fellow Christians cost him any remaining local support. Now, with Doroshenko deposed and exiled, the Cossacks are at odds, disagreeing on what their next move should be. Until then, Stepan must keep order. With his musket and curved saber, he cuts an imposing figure. He surveys his battalion of 180 men. Most are Orthodox Christians and speak a Slavic language that will become modern Ukrainian. But there are also Greeks, Tatars, and even some Mongolian Kalmyks, many with different opinions on recent events. Officially, all of Stepan’s men have sworn to uphold the Cossack code by undergoing seven years of military training and remaining unmarried. In practice, some are part-timers, holding more closely to their own traditions, and maintaining families in nearby villages, outside Cossack lands. Thankfully, the tenuous peace is not broken before they reach the Sich— the center of Cossack military life. Currently located at Chortomlyk, the Sich’s location shifts with the tide of military action. The settlement is remarkably well- organized, with administrative buildings, officers’ quarters, and even schools, as Cossacks prize literacy. Stepan and his men make their way to the barracks where they live and train alongside several other battalions or kurins, all of which make up a several hundred man regiment. Inside, the men dine on dried fish, sheep’s cheese, and salted pork fat— along with plenty of wine. Stepan instructs his friend Yuri to lighten the mood with his bandura. But before long, an argument has broken out. One of his men has raised a toast to Doroshenko. Stepan cuts him off. The room is silent until he raises his own toast to Ivan Sirko, the new hetman who favors an alliance with Moscow against the Turks. Stepan plans to support him, and he expects his men to do the same. Suddenly, one of Sirko’s men rushes in, calling an emergency Rada, or general council meeting. Stepan and the others make their way towards the church square— the center of Sich life. Ivan Sirko welcomes the confused crowd with exciting news— scouts have located a large Ottoman camp completely vulnerable on one side. Sirko vows that tomorrow, they will ride against their common enemy, defend the Cossacks’ autonomy, and bring unity to the Wild Fields. As the men cheer in unison, Stepan is relieved at their renewed sense of brotherhood. Over the next 200 years, these freedom fighters would take on many foes. And tragically, they would eventually become the oppressive hand of the Russian government they once opposed. But today, these 17th century Cossacks are remembered for their spirit of independence and defiance. As the Russian painter Ilya Repin once said: “No people in the world held freedom, equality, and fraternity so deeply.”

P14? ?A day in the life of a Mongolian queen

? ? ? ? As dawn breaks over a moveable city of ten thousand yurts, Queen Boraqchin is in for a rude awakening. A rogue sheep has slipped past her servants and guards and bolted into her yurt, where he springs into bed and bleats in her ear. Although she’s the formidable khatun of the Golden Horde, a huge kingdom in the Mongolian Empire, Boraqchin has a hands-on approach to ruling. She’s been married to Batu Khan, the fearsome grandson of Genghis Khan himself, since she was fifteen – and while her husband is out on his raids, she juggles the duties of flocks, family and empire at home. This makes her the manager – and the mover – of a city of thousands. Twice a year, Boraqchin moves the city between two seasonal camping grounds. This ensures constant water and lush grass in summer, and protection from harsh winds in winter. The whole operation requires weeks of strict planning, liaising with the other camps in her domain, strategic delegation – and the patience to move at the speed of dawdling animals.

? ? ? ?Today is moving day, and she’ll have to direct throngs of her ladies, commanders, slaves and animals up the river Volga for the summer. As Boraqchin steps outside, she’s greeted by a commotion – her unwanted visitor is now running circles around her stewards. They’re attempting to stow her possessions securely into wagons. Boraqchin orders them to get it under control – but she’s the only one quick enough to catch the stray. She next supervises her ladies who are unpinning her yurt and lifting it onto its custom wagon. It requires a team of twenty oxen to pull, and Boraqchin wouldn’t trust anyone to steer it but herself. Next, Boraqchin and her woolly companion meet with the guards. She orders them to keep close watch on her husband's special reception yurt and port-able throne during the journey. They’ll also act as outriders, and she tells them how to secure the route, surround her for safety – and keep the animals in check. But when the sheep finally breaks free and makes for the fields, the guards can barely keep up as it scampers through crowds packing up their yurts. Exasperated, Boraqchin rides down to the pastures herself. When she gets there, she catches sight of the troublesome sheep wriggling into the middle of a flock. When she follows him in, he’s nestled next to a ewe, his mother. She’s pregnant, and seems to be in pain. With a start, Boraqchin realizes that this ewe’s impending delivery has been forgotten in the flurry of moving day. There’s no time to find a shepherd – instead, Boraqchin rolls up her sleeves, greases her arm and helps the ewe give birth to two new additions to the empire.?

? ? ? ? Leaving the lambs and their mother, Boraqchin dashes back to the camp. Here the final touches have been put to packing, and vehicles are starting to line up. This vast procession starts with the queen and two hundred wagons filled with her treasures. Next up are the junior wives and crew, then the concubines – and this is only Boraqchin's camp. After this comes the second imperial camp led by another senior wife, then two more camps, also led by wives. Boraqchin has been checking in with them for weeks to ensure a smooth departure and orderly queue. But they only make up the royal portion of the line – behind them winds the entire civilian city, which includes holy men with portable chapels and mosques, families, tradesmen, and shepherds. Finally, Boraqchin settles into her wagon. It’ll take weeks to reach their destination – but over the course of the journey, she’ll keep everyone expertly in check – from her proud children and attentive subjects, to the most meandering sheep at the back of line.

P15? ?A day in the life of a Roman soldier

? ? ? ?The year is 15 CE and the Roman Empire is prospering. Most of the credit will go to the emperor, but this success wouldn’t have been possible without loyal soldiers like Servius Felix. Servius enlisted as a legionary eight years ago at age 18, the son of a poor farmer with few prospects. Unlike the majority of legionaries, he doesn’t gamble, so he’s been able to save most of his wages. He’s even kept his viaticum, the three gold coins he received when he enlisted. If he survives until retirement, he’ll receive several acres of land. And he’s grown rather fond of a girl back home whom he intends to marry. But he’ll have to wait until he completes his 25 years of service before that can happen. And the life of a legionary is dangerous and grueling. Today, Servius’s legion, along with three others, has undertaken a “great march” of 30,000 Roman paces, the equivalent of nearly 36 kilometers. Servius’s armor and weapons, including his gladius, scutum, and two pila, weigh over 20 kilograms. And that’s not counting his backpack, or sarcina, which contains food and all the tools he needs to help build the camp – spade, saw, pickaxe, and basket. Although Servius is exhausted, he won’t sleep much tonight. He’s been assigned the first watch, which means looking after the baggage animals and keeping alert against a possible ambush. After he’s done, he lies awake, dreading the day ahead, which will force him to recall his worst nightmare. At dawn, Servius eats breakfast with his seven tent companions. They’re like a family, all bearing scars from the battles they’ve fought together. Servius is from Italia, but his fellow soldiers hail from all over the empire, which stretches from Syria to Spain. So they’re all far from home in the northern land of Germania. Servius’s legion and three others with him today are under the command of emperor Tiberius’s nephew Germanicus, named for his father’s military successes against the Germanic tribes. Each legion has close to 5,000 men, divided into cohorts of about 500, further subdivided into centuries of around 80-100 men. Each century is commanded by a centurion. An aquilifer, or eagle-bearer, marches at the head of each legion carrying its eagle standard. The centurions march beside the legionaries belting out orders, “Dex, sin, dex, sin," “Right, left, right, left," starting with the right foot as the left is considered unlucky or sinister. Despite the strict discipline, there’s tension in the air. Last year, some legions in the area revolted, demanding better pay and a cut in the length of service. Only their general’s charisma and negotiating skills prevented wholesale mutiny. Today is a “just march,” only 30 kilometers. As the marshes and forests of Germania lie beyond the empire’s road system the men must build causeways and bridges to make headway— something they’ve recently spent more time doing than fighting. Finally, they arrive at their destination, a place Servius knows too well. It’s a clearing on the outskirts of the Teutoburg Forest, where six years ago, during the reign of the emperor Augustus, Germanic tribes under their chieftain Arminius ambushed and destroyed three legions. Proceeding along a narrow path, the legions were attacked from forest cover under torrential rain with their escape blocked. It was one of the worst defeats the Romans ever suffered and Augustus never lived it down. Servius was one of the few survivors. Servius still has nightmares of his comrades lying where they fell. But now the army is back to bury the dead with full military honors. As he helps in the task, he can’t help wondering whether the bones he handles belonged to someone he knew. Several times he wants to weep aloud, but he pushes on with the task. The glory of the Empire can go to the crows. All he craves is to retire on a small farm with his wife-to-be, if the gods should spare his life for 17 more years.

P16??A day in the life of a teenage samurai?

? ? ? ? It’s just after sunrise, and 16-year-old Mori Banshir? is already hard at work practicing drills with his long sword. Banshir? is an ambitious samurai in training, and today he must impress his teachers more than ever. Today he’ll make his request to travel to the capital city of Edo for a year of martial and scholarly studies, and he needs their support, along with his father’s. The year is 1800 in the castle town of K?chi, capital of the Tosa domain in Japan. The daimyo rules the domain, and about 1,500 samurai retainers serve him. For 200 years, Japan has been at peace, and the samurai, once primarily warriors, now play a much wider range of roles— they are also government officials, scholars, teachers, and even masters of the tea ceremony or artists. To prepare for these diverse responsibilities, young samurai like Banshir? study the “twin paths” of literary learning and the martial arts. At 15, he went through the rites of adulthood and received the daish?— a pair of swords. The long sword is for training and combat, while the short sword has a sole, solemn purpose— to commit ritual suicide, or seppuku, if he dishonors himself, his family, or the daimyo. Banshir? idolizes the legendary samurai Miyamoto Musashi, a renowned swordsman who lived 150 years earlier. But Banshir? doesn’t admire his swordsmanship alone. Miyamoto Musashi was also a master calligrapher and painter. That’s the real reason Banshir? wants to go to Edo— he secretly wants to be a painter, too. After finishing his practice at home, he bids his father goodbye and walks to school. His father is preparing to accompany the daimyo to the capital. The Tokugawa shogun, head of the Japanese military government, requires all the regional rulers to alternate years between their castle town in the home domain and the capital city. The costly treks back and forth keep the daimyo subordinate and prevent them from building up their own military forces to challenge the shogunate. The daimyo’s wife and children live in the capital full time, where they serve as hostages to ensure his loyalty. But the practice doesn’t just affect the daimyo— it determines much of the rhythm of life in Japan. Samurai must accompany the daimyo to Edo. This year it’s Banshir?’s father’s turn to go, and Banshir? is desperate to go with him; but given that he’s still in training, he’ll need permission from both his father and the domain. At school, Banshir?’s first lesson is in swordfighting. Under his teacher’s stern eye, he pairs up with his classmates and goes through the routines he’s been practicing. At the end of the lesson, he reminds the instructor of his request to go to Edo. The instructor cracks his first smile of the day, and Banshir? feels confident he will gain his support. Next, Banshir? practices archery, horsemanship, and swimming before his academic courses in the afternoon. Courses cover Confucian philosophy, morality, and history. When the instructor calls on him, he has the response on the tip of his tongue, ensuring another supporter for his campaign. By the end of the day, Banshir? feels confident that his formal request will be approved, but the greatest challenge is still ahead of him: convincing his father. His father believes the martial arts are more important than the literary arts, so Banshir? doesn’t mention his artistic ambitions. Instead, he talks about renowned sword instructors he can train with, and teaching certifications he can earn to improve his professional prospects back in K?chi. Then, he makes his final, strongest argument: if he goes this time and succeeds, his father can retire and send him instead in the future. It’s this last point that finally sells him— Banshir?’s father agrees to take him on his tour of duty. In the bustle of the capital city, Banshir? will finally have the opportunity to pursue his secret ambition to become a painter.

P17??A day in the life of an ancient Athenian

? ? ?It’s 427 BCE and the worst internal conflict ever to occur in the ancient Greek world is in its fourth year. The Peloponnesian War is being fought between the city-states of Athens and Sparta, as well as their allies. The Athenians can’t match the formidable Spartan army on land. So they’ve abandoned the countryside and moved inside the walls surrounding their city and port, now provisioned by a superior fleet and extensive maritime empire. The cramped conditions have taken a toll and a recent plague wiped out a third of the population. But city life goes on. Archias and Dexileia live in the center of Athens. As a painter of high-class pottery, Archias is relatively well-off and takes great interest in the city’s affairs. Dexileia, on the other hand, can't participate in politics or own property. The couple are grateful to the gods that three of their four children, a son and two daughters, have survived past infancy. Many parents see daughters as a liability since they require dowries to find husbands. But Archias is confident that his wealth will allow him to make good matches for them without going bankrupt. Like many Athenians, the family owns slaves. Originally from Thrace, they were captured in war. Thratta does most of the housework and helps raise the children. Philon is a paidag?gos, who supervises the son’s education, teaching him reading and writing. Archias is up early because there’s a meeting of the Ekklêsia, the assembly of citizens, taking place at dawn. Before setting out, he burns incense and pours a libation at the small shrine in the courtyard on behalf of his entire household. Dexileia will remain at home all day, teaching her daughters domestic skills. Later, she’ll retire to the inner courtyard for some fresh air. When Archias arrives at the agora, the civic and commercial heart of the city, he finds the square swarming with his fellow citizens, native-born adult males who have completed military training. Attached to the central monument is a noticeboard with the meeting’s agenda. Today, there’s only one item of discussion: what to do with the people of Mytilene, a city on the island of Lesbos where a revolt against Athenian rule has just been put down. The meeting takes place on a hill west of the acropolis known as the Pnyx. The word means “tightly packed," and the crowd of 5,000 citizens makes it clear why. The heralds purify the hill by sprinkling its boundary with pig’s blood and call for order. As everyone sits on benches facing the platform, the presiding officer opens the meeting with the words: “Tis agoreuein bouleutai?” “Who wishes to address the assembly?” One by one, citizens speak, some advising mercy, others bent on vengeance. A motion is proposed to execute all the Mytileneans and enslave their women and children because they betrayed their Athenian allies during a time of war. A majority raises their right hands in favor. Once the meeting’s over, Archias heads back to the agora to buy food and wine. Hundreds have gathered there to discuss the results, many unhappy with the decision. When Archias returns home, he tells Dexileia about the debate. She thinks that killing the innocent as well as the guilty is harsh and counterproductive, and tells him as much. Around dusk, Archias goes to a friend’s house for a symposium. The nine men drink wine and discuss the meeting well into the night. Archias shares his wife’s opinion urging mercy, and his friends eventually agree. Before dawn, something unprecedented happens. Heralds circulate throughout Athens announcing the council has called another meeting. The second debate is equally heated, but a new resolution, to execute only the leaders of the revolt, narrowly passes. Yet there’s a problem – a ship with orders to carry out the first resolution was dispatched the previous day. And so another ship quickly sets sail to countermand the order – a race of democracy against time.

P18??A day in the life of an ancient Celtic Druid

? ? As the sun rises on a ?fall morning in 55 BCE,Camma lays two pigeons on the altar ?at the center of her village.She offers a prayer to Matrona ?mother goddess of the Earth,and Lugus chief of the gods.Then, she wrings the birds’ necksand cuts them open to examine their ?entrails for divine messages.Camma is a druid.This means she conducts religious rites,but she also serves as a judge, healer, ?and scholar,teaching children and mediating conflict ?between Celtic tribes.She began her studies as a child,memorizing the countless details ?necessary to perform her many roles,since the druids’ knowledge is considered ?too sacred to record in writing.Like many druids, she spent years ?studying in Britain.Now, she is a resident Druid ?of the Veneti tribein a small farming village near the ?western coast of Gaul,in what is now France.Since returning to Gaul, she has received ?many offers of marriage–but she has decided to devote herself ?to her work, at least for now.This morning, the omens are troubling.They tell of war and strife, as they often have in recent months.A neighboring tribe, the Redones,have raided their village and stolen ?cattle in broad daylight twice this fall.The children have gathered around ?to watch her work.Camma plays her lyre and sings to them.She weaves stories of the powerful kings ?who once ruled their land –brave warriors who were slain naked ?in combat but who will be reborn,as will all the Celts.When the children go off ?to help in the fields,Camma heads across the village to visit an old woman with an eye infection.On the way to the old woman’s hut,she passes men salting pigs for the ?winter food supplyand women weaving clothing from dyed wool.She delivers a remedy for the injured eye–it’s made from mistletoe, ?a sacred healing plant,but deadly if used incorrectly.From there, Camma visits the chieftain ?to discuss the omens.She convinces him to go and talk through ?their problems with their neighbors.Accompanied by several warriors,they head through the forest and demand ?a meetingoutside the Redones’ village walls.The Redones’ representatives bring ?their own druid,who Camma recognizes from the annual ?gathering in central Gaulwhere head druids are elected.The chieftains immediately begin to argue ?and threaten each other.Camma steps between the opposing sides to stop them from fighting—they must honor her authority.Finally, the Redones agree to pay ?Camma’s tribe several cattle.In spite of this resolution, Camma still ?feels uneasy on the long walk home.As they approach the village walls, ?a bright streak shoots across the sky—another omen, but of what?Back home, Camma sits among the elders ?for her evening meal of porridge,a bit of meat, and a cup of wine.While they were out during the day, ?an intercepted parchment arrived.Camma recognizes the writing immediately.Although the druids are forbidden from ?recording their knowledge,she and many other young druids ?can read Latin.From the message, she learns that the ?Romans are drawing closer to their lands.Some of the elders say that the tribe ?should flee to the nearby hills and hide,but Camma counsels them to trust ?in the gods and remain in their home.Privately, she has her doubts.Should the Romans reach them, ?her power to help might be limited.Unlike the other Celtic tribes,Roman legions have no regard for ?the druids’ sacred role as peacemakers.Before going to bed,she observes the course of the planets ?and consults her charts,trying to make sense of the ?meteor she saw earlier.The signs are converging on a larger ?threat than their neighbors.

P19??A day in the life of an ancient Egyptian doctor

? ? ?It’s another sweltering morning in Memphis, Egypt. As the sunlight brightens the Nile, Peseshet checks her supplies. Honey, garlic, cumin, acacia leaves, cedar oil. She’s well stocked with the essentials she needs to treat her patients. Peseshet is a swnw, or a doctor. In order to become one, she had to train as a scribe and study the medical papyri stored at the Per Ankh, the House of Life. Now, she teaches her own students there. Before teaching, Peseshet has a patient to see. One of the workers at the temple construction site has injured his arm. When Peseshet arrives, the laborer’s arm is clearly broken, and worse, the fracture is a sed, with multiple bone fragments. Peseshet binds and immobilizes the injury. Her next stop is the House of Life. On her way, a woman intercepts Peseshet in the street. The woman’s son has been stung by a scorpion. Peseshet has seen many similar stings and knows exactly what to do. She must say an incantation to cast the poison out. She begins to recite the spell, invoking Serqet, patron of physicians and goddess of venomous creatures. Peseshet recites the spell as if she is Serqet. This commanding approach has the greatest chance at success. After she utters the last line, she tries to cut the poison out with a knife for good measure. Peseshet packs up to leave, but the woman has another question. She wants to find out if she is pregnant. Peseshet explains her fail-safe pregnancy test: plant two seeds: one barley, one emmer. Then, urinate on the seeds every day. If the plants grow, she’s pregnant. A barley seedling predicts a baby boy, while emmer foretells a girl. Peseshet also recommends a prayer to Hathor, goddess of fertility. When Peseshet finally arrives at the House of Life, she runs into the doctor-priest Isesi. She greets Isesi politely, but she thinks priests are very full of themselves. She doesn’t envy Isesi’s role as neru pehut, which directly translates to herdsman of the anus to the royal family, or, guardian of the royal anus. Inside, the House of Life is bustling as usual with scribes, priests, doctors, and students. Papyri containing all kinds of records, not just medical information, are stored here. Peseshet’s son Akhethetep is hard at work copying documents as part of his training to become a scribe. He’s a particularly promising student, but he was admitted to study because Peseshet is a scribe, as was her father before her. Without family in the profession, it’s very difficult for boys, and impossible for girls, to pursue this education. Peseshet oversees all the female swnws and swnws-in-training in Memphis. The men have their own overseer, as the male doctors won’t answer to a woman. Today, Peseshet teaches anatomy. She quizzes her students on the metu, the body’s vessels that transport blood, air, urine, and even bad spirits. Peseshet is preparing to leave when a pale, thin woman accosts her at the door and begs to be examined. The woman has a huge, sore lump under her arm. Peseshet probes the growth and finds it cool to the touch and hard like an unripe hemat fruit. She has read about ailments like this, but never seen one. For this tumor there is no treatment, medicine or spell. All the texts give the same advice: do nothing. After delivering the bad news, Peseshet goes outside. She lingers on the steps of the House of Life, admiring the city at dusk. In spite of all her hard work, there will always be patients she can’t help, like the woman with the tumor. They linger with her, but Peseshet has no time to dwell. In a few short weeks, the Nile’s annual flooding will begin, bringing life to the soil for the next year’s harvest and a whole new crop of patients.

P20??A day in the life of an ancient Peruvian shaman?

? ? ?At the temple of the fisherman, ?Quexo, the village shaman,looks out over the ocean and frowns.It’s a still morning– unusually still,and the lack of wind is the latest ?in a series of troubling signs.The year is 1400 BCE.Quexo’s village sits in the dusty, ?treeless desertbetween the towering Andes ?and Pacific Ocean.The villagers live off the sea, ?harvesting reeds,drying them in the sun, ?and using them to build fishing boats.Every day in the summer,the men set out on these boats to hunt shark and other fishwhile the women harvest ?shellfish and sea urchins.In winter, storms bring powerful waves, which cross the vast ocean unobstructedto detonate on these shores.Most years, Quexo’s village catches ?more than enough fish.But this year, the winds have died ?and the fish have dwindled.Quexo has seen this pattern before:the fish disappear, ?then the violent rains arrive,causing flash floods that dissolve ?mud bricks and wash away settlements.He needs to stop the bad weather ?before the storms come—his only hope is a special ritual ?he’s been planning.Quexo spends much less time in the ocean than the other villagers.He became a shaman after seeing ?a sign in the sea one morning—like his father and grandfather before him.This morning,he walks to the nearby sacred mountain ?as the sun rises.There, he gathers ceremonial cactus ?and herbs like “horse tail,”“stonebreaker," and valerian, ?along with the mineral hematite.Back in the village, ?everyone is preparing to leavefor a religious festival ?at a large temple inland.The festival marks the beginning of what is usually the season of abundance,but with the signs pointing to storms, Quexo isn’t feeling too celebratory.Whole families travel to the festival, where they camp for a few days.They’ve packed seaweed, carved bones, gourd bowls, reed mats,and other goods to trade ?in the market around the temple.Quexo inspects the goods to make ?sure everything is of the finest quality.He brings the herbs he gathered ?to trade for cinnabar,a mineral that comes ?from the highlands in the Andes.He needs cinnabar for his ritual ?to ward off the storms.Around lunchtime, the sprawling ?temple rises out of the desert ahead.People have come from all along ?the coast and the foothills.The women handle trade transactions— they’re looking for cotton and ceramics.Men aren’t usually allowed ?to do the trading,but shamans are an exception.Though Quexo is a man, during rituals ?he becomes half man, half woman,and this ambiguity makes his role ?more flexible outside ceremonies too.Quexo can’t find any cinnabar ?in the market,so he heads to the main temple,dodging children playing in the plaza.He puts on his ceremonial garb: ?red face paint, earrings,and a necklace of shark’s teeth and vertebrae.Inside, the ceremonies ?are already underway,and the shamans have drunk the sacred cactus drink.Many of them are Quexo’s friends ?from festivals over the years,but he doesn’t see the mountain shamans ?who would have cinnabar.He begins to panic.If the highland shamans don’t show up,his only option will be to make ?the long walk into the mountains.It’s a dangerous journey ?that takes five days,precious time he doesn’t have to waste.But perhaps he has no choice.He refuses the sacred cactus ?and sets off toward the mountains.As he leaves the settlement behind, he sees a group approaching.He recognizes them as highlanders by their llamas.He dashes toward their shaman.Barely pausing to say hello, ?he offers him hematite, dried seaweed,and empty shells to grind up for lime and chew with coca leaves.In return, the other shaman ?gives him the precious cinnabar.With the key to his ritual in hand,Quexo heads home to the temple ?of the fishermanin hopes of turning the tide.