Gas workers in Peru stumble across 1,000-year-old mummy: See photos
Peruvian workers clearing the way for new gas pipes stumbled across a mummy that archaeologists have since determined to be approximately 1,000 years old.
The mummified remains were discovered not even two feet beneath the Earth's surface in Peru's capital of Lima. reported the Associated Press. Workers for the gas company Cálidda initially unearthed a makeshift tomb maker fashioned from the trunk of a huarango tree in June, under which a child-sized body was found sitting upright, wrapped in cloth and surrounded by ceramics, rope and food items.
Archaeologists believe the well-preserved remains belonged to an adolescent, aged between 10 and 15 years old, of the pre-Inca Chancay culture, Cálidda said in a Facebook post. Dark hair and pieces of skin were still attached to the body, which Jesus Bahamonde, archaeologist and scientific coordinator for Cálidda, told AP and the Agence France-Presse was likely buried between 1000 and 1200 CE.
'Great stories aren't just told'
Because discoveries of this nature are common in Peru, utility companies are generally required to have archaeologists on staff to oversee digs.
"Great stories aren't just told: they're lived, discovered, and shared," Bahamonde said in a LinkedIn post, translated from Spanish, about the discovery. "This is a new story added to the more than 2,200 archaeological remains discovered along our path. Millennia-old testimonies that lie beneath our streets, waiting to be interpreted with respect and returned to the collective memory."
The Chancay culture flourished from around 1000 to 1470 CE, before later being absorbed into the Inca Empire, according to the University of Missouri's Museum of Art and Archaeology. The coastal Chancay civilization is recognized by archaeologists for its people's accomplishments in producing distinct ceramics and textiles.
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Buzz Feed
6 hours ago
- Buzz Feed
18 Improvements From The 2000s That Made Life Better
A lot can change in a decade or two, and for many things, it's for the better. Recently, Redditor u/angelbeetle asked older adults of the Reddit community to share what they honestly think have changed for the better within the last two decades, and it's super insightful: "Minor surgeries. Many are laparoscopic with smaller incisions and faster recovery times. My kid and I compared our appendectomy scars. Mine isn't really visible anymore, but it was a cut the length of my appendix, complete with stitches. His scar is essentially a dot." —TheRealEkimsnomlas "Food transport and availability. Thanks to globalization, I can afford to eat fresh Norwegian salmon and Peruvian blueberries in Bangkok for less than they'd cost in the US." "The percentage of people who smoke cigarettes has decreased." —Imaginary_Shelter_37 "Online banking is straightforward and convenient (I was a late adopter). Also, attitudes toward sex and gender are generally much better." "GPS. I started driving when you had to use a map or ask someone else for directions. MapQuest was a revelation but still required a bit of attention. Now, I can get anywhere in America with turn-by-turn directions from my phone." —professorfunkenpunk "Air and water quality almost everywhere has improved." "In my My family first got a VCR when I was 7. I have some vague memories from before then, like only having three channels on the TV. But then renting happened after VCR, and the concept of a video store was 'renting a movie is the same cost as a single movie ticket, but now you can bring the family and pause it.' It was pricey, but still held tremendous value. I was 21 when TiVo came out, when you could suddenly record basically any show. When Netflix started streaming, I was 30." "Another subsequent side effect is the rise of prestige TV. Twenty-five years ago, we had The Sopranos, and that was basically it. Now, there's a goddamn arms race on every streaming platform for intense, compelling television. Like, I remember loving Knight Rider as a kid, but trying to rewatch an episode was rough. TV just wasn't designed for people to watch EVERY episode of something, but streaming makes it easy."—supergooduser "Availability of random products with the internet. You can buy nearly anything online." "Car durability. Everyone says, 'They don't build 'em like they used to,' but cars today routinely last 10–15 years. Back in the day, cars were shot after a couple of years and 50,000 miles." —Eastern-Finish-1251 "Internet speed." "Acceptance of formerly 'nerdy' hobbies like video games, comic books, collecting, being a big fan of a particular piece of media, etc." —AshleyWilliams78 "Battery-powered tools." "Dentistry. Specifically, pain management." —NansDrivel "Engine horsepower and gas mileage have improved." "Cancer survival rates." —sbsb27"For multiple reasons, too: better detection, greater awareness, better medications to combat the cancer and the side effects of the chemo, new classes of drugs with a greater selection within each class, and improved radiation therapy delivery."—TheSlideBoy666 "General public safety. Despite what the politicians like to scream about, serious crime has been on a decline for many years. I remember what it was like in '60s and '70s. We give up some freedoms for greater safety. It's a trade: camera monitoring, facial identification, DNA, etc. But these trades conceptually give up freedoms, but have a demonstrable effects on safety." "Mental health. It's still vastly underfunded, and we still don't understand much, but we have made incredible strides in the last 25 years. There are better medications, and there's genetic testing that can quickly make it easier for a psychiatrist to choose the right meds for a patient rather than just trying one, after one, after one. There's a better understanding of the role of abuse and trauma in the personality disorder cluster, and more willingness to consider new and old treatments that actually work for drug-resistant issues." —Late_Resource_1653 Lastly: "I taught high school until a couple of years ago. Teenagers are far more accepting of differences than they were when I was a teen. There is still unkindness because there are assholes in any population, but still. I was both surprised and gratified at the level of acceptance of cultures, lifestyles, and differences. I sincerely hope this trend continues." As someone who remembers having to print out directions from MapQuest, I'm SO glad for GPS and CarPlay. What do you think has genuinely changed for the better within the last two decades? Let us know in the comments, or you can anonymously submit your thoughts using the form below!
Boston Globe
11 hours ago
- Boston Globe
‘How can this be happening?' The coincidence that put my family trauma in a new light.
Frankly, I was happy to put Boston behind me. My childhood was miserable, filled with trauma. I never wanted to return to this place, except perhaps for holidays or funerals. Or so I thought. I had received a job offer from The Boston Globe, a paper I long idolized, and just had to take it. Get The Gavel A weekly SCOTUS explainer newsletter by columnist Kimberly Atkins Stohr. Enter Email Sign Up The Facebook invite was from Kellie, a person who wasn't quite a friend in high school. But we got along — I recall we danced a bit on stage when we performed in our high school musical. 'Who would you like to invite?' Kellie asked. Good question. I didn't really keep in touch with anyone. But I was Facebook friends with several people like Kellie, classmates who were friendly acquaintances but people I never spent time with outside of school. When you're a kid and struggling, you think you're the only one who's struggling. Trauma is not something people easily speak about, especially in high school where the number one goal is conformity. You sit in a classroom and stare at the other kids and wonder what it might be like to be normal. So, it was shocking to see them at the cookout now as adults, stumbling through life just as I was. Not everyone I invited could make it. A few weeks later, I received a Facebook message from someone I'll call Madeline for the purposes of this story. 'Hey Tom, sorry I missed your welcome back party! I was away. Wondering if you would like to come have dinner sometime. ... I live in Watertown with my husband and kids. I think you'd like my husband. He's nice.' 'Sure,' I replied. 'That's nice of you. What's your address?' Her response froze me. For several seconds, I stared blankly at the number and street name. No. That's not possible. Good and bad reality My parents emigrated from China to Boston in the 1950s. They started a laundry business before Dad went to work for New England Telephone Company. He would sit on a bench and assemble parts into landline telephones. Like many Chinese families, they wanted desperately to have a son, which proved difficult for them. By the time I was born in 1977, Dad was already 49 years old and father to four daughters. No one would ever mistake us for the Brady Bunch. Dad was an angry, abusive man who frequently unleashed his verbal and physical wrath on his wife and daughters. He never laid a hand on me, though he was psychologically abusive. Mom suffered from paranoid schizophrenia. She could be loving and caring in one moment and then suddenly attack me with a ruler or Wiffle ball bat for the tiniest of infractions. She heard voices and insisted that the neighbors were using a machine to monitor our thoughts. My eldest sister, whom I'll call Susan, started to lose her grip on reality in her late teens and was also diagnosed with schizophrenia. She would chase me throughout the house with a pair of scissors, threatening to castrate me. She would frequently try to climb into bed with me. I coped with the chaos the same way many trauma victims deal with such things: I buried it deep inside me. I started to compartmentalize reality. There was the 'good reality,' the one where I hung out with friends, crushed on a girl, acted in high school plays, and wrote for the town newspaper. The world in which I exercised a degree of control and provided my life with some measure of hope and meaning. And then there was the 'bad reality' of the horror and fear that I endured at home. The reality that still terrifies me. I vowed to keep these realities apart. Not just out of self-preservation but also out of fear that my bad reality would somehow pollute or 'infect' my good reality. That's why I rarely spoke about my parents or siblings or why I freaked out when someone I knew saw me in public with them. No, these two realities must never meet. 'What else was I missing?' After high school, I went to college and tried not to look back. Over the next 25 years, I lived and worked in New York, Seattle, St. Louis, Minneapolis, Ann Arbor, and San Francisco. One of my sisters died from cancer in 2003, and Dad passed away three years ago. Both times, I kept my distance, though before my dad died I did return home once to help my parents move into a more senior-friendly house located just down the road from my childhood home in Watertown. Susan's life had rapidly deteriorated. She could no longer hold a job or live on her own. So she moved back in with my parents in their new home. Unfortunately, Susan's schizophrenia started to mirror Mom's. Susan thought the neighbors were out to get her. She accused them of trying to break into the house and prank-calling us. She convinced my mom to change phone numbers and to install a home alarm system. She even called the police on the neighbors. Yet my view on Susan gradually softened. Thanks to some difficult therapy and introspection, I began to see Susan as less of a monster who terrorized me and more of a human who was also a victim of my father's abuse. Once, when our sister was dying from cancer, Susan sent her a note that read: 'I'm sorry that you're sick. I would help you but as you know I'm not feeling really well myself.' The note stunned me. I didn't know Susan was even capable of such compassion, such clarity of thought. She had gotten so bad that I had doubted she could even read and write anymore. What else was I missing? What would have happened if Susan hadn't been abused? If she had received the care and treatment she needed? What kind of big sister would she have been? Would we even be pals? My thoughts were racing. I started to process everything by writing about mental health and familial abuse on social media. 'Over the years, I came to accept she had an awful illness and was also physically and sexually abused,' I wrote on Facebook on Oct. 16, 2022. 'I'm also sorry that she suffered so much in her life and that her sickness produced so much collateral damage.' My posts found a wide and compassionate audience. 'The fact that you came to understand how sick she was shows how you've grown in your awareness and understanding,' one friend wrote. 'It does not make your pain any less. But you are managing.' Said another: 'We grow through our painful experiences, but also through the experiences of others willing to share.' The things that bind us together When people learned I was returning to the Boston area, they assumed the reason was family. 'No,' I said. 'I'm here for the job. That's all.' That wasn't quite true. I wondered how Boston would look to me as a middle-aged man rather than as an angry, emotionally volatile 17-year-old. The dinner invitation from Madeline came as a surprise. For one thing, I was shocked that she had moved back to Watertown. Madeline, her older sister, and I had performed in the same high school plays. In fact, I had a major crush on her sister. That was a major part of the 'good reality' that I so desperately tried to protect from the 'bad.' And later, Madeline had tried to pursue a career in acting. She attended theater schools and auditioned for movie and television roles. I imagined her in New York or Los Angeles maybe. But yet here she was, married and raising a family in Watertown. But until I received her dinner invite, I didn't know exactly where. As it turned out, Madeline lives right next door to Mom and Susan. Could it be that Madeline and her family were the same neighbors my sister fixated on? The people she called the cops on? During the dinner, I tried to read Madeline and her husband, whom I'll call Greg, for some clues about whether she knew that my mom and sister lived next door. But they gave no indication of that. I started to think it wasn't them. I decided to find out. 'Hey, this is pretty weird,' I said. 'But did you know you live next door to my mom and sister?' Greg's face changed color. Madeline stopped eating. Silence. OMG. They were the neighbors. No, they didn't know it was my family. And yes, my sister called the cops on them. Three times. She accused them of racism. The cops had taken Susan's complaints seriously. Each time the police arrived they brought some kind of crisis interventionist/social worker to teach Madeline and Greg how not to be racist. 'I am not racist!' Madeline insisted to me. No matter how hard Madeline and Greg tried to convince Susan, she heard something different. 'First of all, I am so sorry," I said, mortified. 'Secondly, it's better that you do not say anything to her. No matter your intentions. She is just very sick.' 'I know,' Madeline said. 'At first, we were very upset. But then I started to read the social media posts of this guy I knew, who wrote on Facebook about mental illness and his family. He taught me compassion toward people who were struggling like this.' Who was this guy? 'You,' Madeline said. The world grew exponentially smaller. Let me get this straight: Madeline, an acquaintance with whom I had not spoken in 30 years, read my social media posts about mental health, which allowed her to better understand the actions of her ill neighbor, who turned out to be my sister . So in a sense, I was paying it forward to myself when I wrote those posts. To this day, I wrestle with what happened. I don't believe in coincidences. Everything has a reason. What was I supposed to take from all of this? I concluded that I had been mistaken to draw a distinction between 'good' and 'bad' reality. There is just reality. We view our lives holistically if we want to heal. We have to confront past trauma and reconcile it with our present and future. The bad stuff in my life occurred simultaneously with the good stuff. It's true that my sister chased me with scissors. It's equally true that I happily performed plays with Madeline and her sister. And somehow the universe saw fit to remind us that life can be filled with mysterious little coincidences that seem unrelated but ultimately bind us together. The question is whether you want to see the big picture.
Associated Press
20 hours ago
- Associated Press
Albanian authorities evacuate three villages as wildfire spreads in the south of the country
The Associated Press is an independent global news organization dedicated to factual reporting. Founded in 1846, AP today remains the most trusted source of fast, accurate, unbiased news in all formats and the essential provider of the technology and services vital to the news business. More than half the world's population sees AP journalism every day.
