An intern's first week

First day:
It took me 3 HOURS to get to work. I had no idea what the Chicago Transit Authority was like, but now I know I was spoiled with Athenian public transportation. First, I took the "Metra" train into Union Station in downtown Chicago. The Chicago bus system was a culture shock in itself. I knew there was a bus directly to the Field Museum, but according to the sign it only runs from "mid-morning to late afternoon." Obviously 8:30 AM isn't mid-morning. So, I walked six blocks to another bust stop and waited again. The schedules may say "every ten minutes" but I was at the stop for 35 minutes without one stopping. It also didn't help that the airport information booth gave me a public tranportation map from 2003. Welcome to Chicago! So, I was late for my orientation, but after telling them I had bus trouble, everyone nodded in an understanding way.

I picked up my nifty ID badge and handy-dandy keys and was given a tour of the storage rooms. There are two main storage facilities on the 3rd floor, Anthro wing. Both contain Native American artifacts (in addition to other kinds). I cannot even begin to describe the feeling one gets when standing amidst the plethora of beautiful, significant, and in some cases sacred objects in those rooms. The vast majority of them will never be viewed by the public, and many won't be viewed by the staff either.

My supervisor, Isabel is AWESOME! She's 28, enthusiastic, and treats me not like a lowly minion, but as a valuable assistant to whom she can delegate unwanted work. As Collections Manager, she has one other intern. His name is Evan, and he'll also be a senior Anthro major (plus English major) next year. Evan has a sarcastic humor that livens up the records office. Friday some of the staff went out for a beer after work. We hurried over to a little place down Printer's Row. Apparently, there are few places in Chicago that sell beer by the pitcher, and "Kasey's" was one of them. After long conversations about nothing Anthro related, and finding out that one of the interns went to high school with Katie Hogan, we parted our separate ways for a nice, relaxing weekend.

Currently, I'm going through the records in the Anthro office to find out information on specific artifacts and collections. I've been privileged to read and touch handwritten inventories and correspondence between the collectors, ethnologists, museum curators, directors etc. such as Frank Boas and Paul J. Warner. The handwriting is difficult to read, and I realize how much more accustomed I am to reading type.

Though the accession files are full of monotonous invoices and contracts, there are gems too. I came across a correspondence from the very early 1900s. One letter was in response to an inquiry by the museum. His reply was basically: I'm sorry I didn't get back to you sooner. I was in the Bahamas, and then upon returning, I lost your letter for a while...but now I found it...so now I'm writing you back. Of course this was all in the typical polite, flower prose of the era. It's quite amusing to read the requests to be paid when they are written in this manner. Even when the person is owed money, he ends the letter with "I beg to remain, very truly yours, Director of Botany" and so on.

I remain, very truly yours,
Noelle