Everything is meaningless under the Sun.

"The words of the Teacher, ^[a] son of David, king in Jerusalem:

"Meaningless! Meaningless!"
says the Teacher.
"Utterly meaningless!
Everything is meaningless."

What does man gain from all his labor
at which he toils under the sun?

Generations come and generations go,
but the earth remains forever.

The sun rises and the sun sets,
and hurries back to where it rises.

The wind blows to the south
and turns to the north;
round and round it goes,
ever returning on its course.

All streams flow into the sea,
yet the sea is never full.
To the place the streams come from,
there they return again.

All things are wearisome,
more than one can say.
The eye never has enough of seeing,
nor the ear its fill of hearing

What has been will be again,
what has been done will be done again;
there is nothing new under the sun.

Is there anything of which one can say,
"Look! This is something new"?
It was here already, long ago;
it was here before our time.

There is no remembrance of men of old,
and even those who are yet to come
will not be remembered
by those who follow."

Ecclesiastes 1:1-11.

Yes, I realize my blog title and subsequent quote is directly out of the Bible. But it seems fitting for what I am about to describe. (Despite my belief that the Bible is an account of folklore, it's very beautiful and poignant in many regards).

I'm so utterly sad right now.
As many of you know, I'm an archaeologist by trade. Here in the desert southwest, we clear out the archaeological remains before development. Some get angry with us, claiming we are helping development and destroying nature. Others tell us we are doing good, as development is inevitable and at least we are trying to save the past with some hope for the future.
It's hard work, it's back breaking work, it's rewarding, yet tiring. And sometimes it'll break your heart.

We are currently doing a project down in Bisbee, a mining town rich in history. We are surveying near the mine, and have been out there for two weeks. I have not been out there yet, but lately it's been business as usual until yesterday.
The team, comprised of three of my coworkers were surveying, when one of them spotted a backpack and a water bottle. This is nothing new in southern AZ, it is common to come across these things in the desert as we are in a high traffic area for undocumented people who cross the border.
They were working less than a mile from the border. He photographed the backpack and water bottle and then walked around a bit...then he spotted a shoe...
soon he began to realize what he was seeing. The remains of a person were strewn everywhere.

She is nothing but bones at this point...the animals had gotten to her so her remains were scattered over several square meters. We know where she died, because there is an impression in the ground where she lay for days. How do I know it's a woman? They found her identification card. She was my age, 27 and was from southern Mexico, further south than Mexico City. She was found 500 yards from a road and just a little bit farther than that from some houses.
Because of her proximity to habitation, it is believed she did not die from exposure to the elements (you usually get this way out in the desert, miles and miles from the closest town or house). Being archaeologists...they did what they could. They flagged her skull, bones, and personal items as you flag artifacts on a dig. They marked off the "site" and called the Sheriff. One of them took pictures. I don't know why he did. But I saw them. I wanted to see them.

What they believe happened is that she paid someone to cross the border, like many do...probably paid a couple thousand for a human smuggler to bring her over. You can see Mexico from the place where she died. Chances are the people that brought her over murdered her once they got across the border. Or perhaps the people she was traveling with were the culprits. Regardless, she was NOT alone when she crossed the border, none of them ever are.

Here I am at 27, worried about my Arabic test, my thesis, the fact that I have a breakout on my face from stress, or that my stupid hoola hoop hasn't shown up yet in the mail. But I have a roof over my head, money to live off of, the ability to work and enjoy a country that, while not perfect, allows me freedoms and joys that others don't necessarily have. And here is this woman, in life she was beautiful, but her life so terrible she felt the need to travel thousands of miles from home, to try to live a new life, to perhaps send money back to her family in Mexico once she got a job over here, only to have her life end less than a mile from where she thought her life would finally begin. And to see what became of her after death, to know that her family has no idea, that her family may NEVER know because the U.S. government may never bother to notify Mexican authorities, or perhaps the Mexican govmt. will not bother to contact her family. (Again, sadly, quite common).

One of the guys copied down the phone number from her ID card...but the card is so old (1999) that who knows if her family is still at that number. She's been dead probably around a year or so, considering the condition of her remains. With just a simple twist of fate, I could have been born in another country to the same conditions this woman was experiencing. Who am I to complain about such trivial matters. I can't express how just utterly empty I feel. I see this woman's face in my head...I think about her family, what she went through to get here, what she said to the last people to see her alive. What did she feel when she knew it was all over? Did she ever see it coming?
I see these stories on the news all the time, but for it to hit so close to home, it's unreal.

Please remember what's really important...LIFE and those around you: your family, friends, and appreciate the good things you have. No I don't believe in a god or heaven. But no one deserves to go out like that and to have your body eaten by desert creatures, scattering all the parts that used to make you human all over the ground.

Appreciate the things that this dear woman will never experience, but the things that she so longed to have in her own life.