By Karen and Michael Crisafulli, Earthwatch Volunteers
In 1993, a team of Earthwatch volunteers assembled in Spain to participate on a Bronze Age archaeological dig as part of an expedition excavating an ancient Iberian village. And while digging side-by-side, two citizen scientists uncovered more than artifacts. They uncovered love. They each share their stories of how they met.
Karen: “This is the whole story in a nutshell: Michael came home and said, ‘Ma, look what I dug up!’”
So begins the toast my brother-in-law, Greg, made at our wedding, August 19, 1995.
Two years before, I met Michael on my first Earthwatch project, and though I had lived in Australia, traveled to Europe and Africa, the project in Spain was to be different in two important ways: one, I would be participating in my first dig; and two, I was about to turn a corner in my life…
A more unromantic meeting place would be hard to find – the bus station in Zaragoza. But Michael seemed to notice me right away and managed to sit with me on the one-hour long bus ride to Borja. Our final destination was a youth hostel, The Albergue, in the village of Santuario de la Misericordia near the Bronze Age dig site. During the two-week expedition, we found we had a lot in common as we worked together at the excavation, talked over drinks in the soft summer night air at the village outdoor café, and made plans to meet once we were back in the U.S. Parting after the expedition was hard, but what began in Spain extended into a year of weekend commutes from Binghamton, NY, to Farmington, CT, Michael moving in with me, and our eventual marriage.
Earthwatch brought us together, and it, along with Michael, has a special place in my heart.
Michael: I arrived in Spain early for my third Earthwatch project, Ancient Iberian Village, a Bronze Age archaeology dig, and spent nearly a week traveling around the country by train. By the time I reached the bus station in Zaragoza for the last leg of my travel to the team rendezvous, I was well acclimated to the hot summer weather and Spanish culture. Here, I met several of the other volunteers, recognizable by their Earthwatch pins or emblems. Karen was one of these folk and I took to her at once. We sat together on the hour bus ride to the small town of Borja, and spent much of the next two weeks together as well. I kept a journal of the entire trip and I find my thoughts about Karen filling page after page after our meeting, nearly squeezing out my notes on the project and its related cultural experiences.
Our days were ordered this way: We had a minimal breakfast in The Albergue, or youth hostel where we stayed, in the tiny village of Santuario de la Misericordia. Since the team was large, we were driven in separate groups to the excavation site of Majaladares, the first group walking the last part of the trek so the car could return for the second. We worked through the morning, stopping for a sandwich break, and then reversed the order for the trip back to The Albergue, the first group being driven from the site, the second walking part of the trip. Karen and I were assigned to the same excavation crew, working near the top of the hill that afforded a beautiful view of the Ebro River valley, so we spent lots of time together, both working, riding, and walking. As we got to know each other I found my initial positive reaction continuously reinforced. One day, Karen was not feeling well and stayed back at the Albergue. I very much missed her that morning, but took advantage of my walk from the site to pick some wild flowers – “three varieties, three colors,” my journal says – and had her roommate deliver them.
We arrived at The Albergue near noon when the summer heat was peaking, and usually enjoyed a siesta before what was always a fabulous main meal prepared by the hostel staff. The afternoons were spent in the shaded yard of The Albergue cleaning, sorting, and marking finds. For this work we were rewarded with a second fabulous meal at 8 o’clock. Shortly into the first week, a small team of hearty volunteers was organized to return to the site in the afternoons. Karen and I volunteered for this group. The first week of the project, the weather was sunny and hot until the afternoon it rained. “Rain” is insufficient to describe the wind and downpour that hit the hearty team that afternoon. We ran for the cave where we stored our tools. We were soaked literally to the skin while we waited out the storm. We found the trenches filled with water when we emerged and the weather from then on was strangely cool, rather like Scotland.
I lived in Connecticut at that time and Karen four hours away in upstate New York, but the distance didn’t seem prohibitive and we made plans to get together. I had another week in Mallorca scheduled after the Majaladares team finished its work, but I promised Karen I’d call the moment I returned home. Weather on my return flight gave our relationship its first test. My plane couldn’t land at JFK and was diverted to Hartford, Connecticut. This was, in fact, my final destination, but of course I couldn’t disembark. I missed my connecting flight and my call was late, even though I made it at the airport. But we passed the test and it was great to hear each other’s voices again.
That was 1993. Karen and I were married in 1995. We’ve participated in a new Earthwatch project each year since then. It’s always fun to see the reaction when we tell people how we met on an Earthwatch project Spain.