This early Iranian, seen here in a reconstructed Neolithic grave at the museum in Kerman, comes from a late chapter in the human story in Iran. Photo by author.

There is no reason to think that human ancestors were not in Iran as early as 1.8 to 1.6 million years ago. Iran is a crossroads that these ancestors, such as Homo erectus, likely passed through as they moved out of Africa at that time to new habitats as far north as Dmanisi in Georgia and as far east as China and Indonesia.

Fereidoun Biglari of The Paleolithic Research Center at The National Museum in Teheran, is leading efforts to search for evidence of early humans in Iran. He has had success finding tools, but no human remains from early time periods, such as the Homo erectus found at Dmanisi, have been found. It may just be a matter of time before he succeeds.

Biglari and his colleagues will also find more evidence from later time periods, such as when early modern humans emerged out of Africa 100,000 years ago. Don’t be surprised if someday you hear that the remains of Neanderthals have been found in Iran as well. They were present in the Levant and Central Asia at this time. A famous Neanderthal site, Shanidar, lies just across Iran’s western border with Iraq. I was pleasantly surprised to see an illustration from a National Geographic article on the Shanidar Neanderthals on display at the Tehran museum. We know Neanderthals traveled as far east as Uzbekistan; the path led through Iran.

The point is that, relatively speaking, people have always been in Iran. This is in contrast to the Americas, where people arrived just 14,000 years ago. This sense of having been in a place for a long time is alien to Americans, but familiar to Chinese, Africans, and other cultures with deep, deep roots. It is true of Iranians as well.

Dr. Hassan Fazeli Nashli, director of the Center for Archaeological Research in Tehran, described to me how people have lived on the Iranian plateau for a very long time. The Persian Empire, which was ruled by a series of dynasties over hundreds of years, was but a chapter in a much longer story.

Do you think we should look for human ancestors in Iran? Where would you look?

Did you know that not far from Tehran is where the infamous Assassin cult, the Hashshashin, was created? Its leader, Hassan-i Sabbah, built his fortress on top of this massive rock in the 11th century. I'll take you there and talk about how Iranians view this enigmatic character today in a future installation on this blog. Photo by author.

There is perhaps no more important role for National Geographic than to attempt to increase understanding between peoples, particularly at times when tensions between states and the resulting hyperbole at a state level obscures or prevents a dialogue between peoples—you know, real people.

The genesis of the August cover story on Iran lies in part with that idea, but also in the simple fact that the magazine has not visited the major archaeological sites of Iran since the revolution there in 1979. A whole generation of Americans has grown up without seeing the wonders of ancient Persia at Persepolis, Cyrus’s tomb at Pasargadae, or Darius’ panel at Bisetun. It is fair to say that since the revolution, the connection in American minds between Persia and Iran has faded to the point where many might be surprised to hear of it. It doesn’t take long, in talking to Iranians, to find that Persia is alive and well, interwoven into the fabric of modern Iranian society in unexpected ways.

The NGM article takes on a two-fold task. First, the photography displays the amazing archaeological heritage of ancient Persia and Iran. Second, the text attempts to open a window into the world of Iranians living in Iran today by exploring their self-image. How do they see themselves? How do they relate to their Persian past and their Islamic present? What can they share with us about themselves that will help us understand them?

I visited Iran in 2007 to help with preparations for the August story. I took a 2,500 mile road trip in a taxi that started in Tehran and looped counter clockwise around the country. On this all-too-brief excursion I was impressed by the generosity of the people, the beauty of the landscape, and the richness of their history. This month, I will use this blog to share my experiences there and add some information and perspectives to what appeared in the magazine. So stay tuned for the first installment.

In the meantime, what did you think of August’s cover story?

Photo: Rocky, courtesy of Great Ape Trust of Iowa

Dunston isn’t checking in; he’s checking out. And Clint Eastwood is going to have to find a new co-star if he ever makes a sequel to Every Which Way But Loose.

Yes, the era of the Hollywood orangutan is coming to an end.

This month, Steve Martin’s Working Wildlife, reportedly the only West Coast source of orangutans for the entertainment industry, announced plans to donate its six orangs to the Great Ape Trust of Iowa, a sanctuary in Des Moines, over the next few months.

Pop Omnivore wanted to find out more, so we spoke to Rob Shumaker, director of orangutan research at the research facility (which offers educational tours, by reservation).

Why did the trainers make this decision?

I didn’t probe to ask all their reasons, but they were partially driven by genuine welfare concerns. It was important for them to find a destination they approved of for their apes. We have some philosophical differences, but I think of them as good people and friends at this point.

Did they treat their apes well?

There are folks who raise welfare concerns about apes in entertainment. There’s a range of how apes are treated. My interactions with the Martins have given me no indication to believe these apes were ever treated badly in any way.

Is it a bad idea for orangutans or other apes to appear on TV or in movies?

It depends how they’re portrayed. I would never suggest a National Geographic documentary about orangutans is a bad thing. But that’s obviously distinct from entertainment or advertisements.

And what’s your view on apes in entertainment programs?

Some folks firmly believe [such programs] can convey a positive message and stimulate interest in apes. Other folks believe [they] diminish concerns about conservation in the wild. I don’t have the answers. It’s certainly fair to say this is an issue people feel strongly about on both sides.

Is there any sort of “apes in entertainment” program you’d be OK with?

It depends what they’re having the ape do. If I saw apes manipulated with special effects to make it look like they’re talking to each other, and they were obviously filmed at a distance in a zoo setting, that doesn’t bother me.

What about Dunston Checks In, the 1996 movie that featured an orangutan?

That’s not the kind of thing I would be supportive of. I have my own kids, and that’s not a movie that I would give them to watch. I guess my general feeling is that I am uncomfortable any time apes are depicted on TV, in greeting cards, in documentaries, or in books in a way intended to be goofy or comic relief, or if they are diminished in any way. Anything that reinforces unfortunate stereotypes about apes makes it harder for people to understand, admire, and respect them.

What if a movie depicted an ape as a hero?

A great example was the most recent King Kong movie. King Kong was very heroic. The movie also depicted ape intelligence. And that ape was totally computer generated. I would prefer movies that depict apes in positive and heroic ways, and I think the best situation is what we saw with King Kong—all done with computer graphics.

So basically you’re against using real apes in entertainment?

I don’t want to condemn anybody who’s ever worked with an ape in entertainment. I cannot deny that my initial exposure to apes—and one of the things that most stimulated my interest—was watching Cheetah in Tarzan movies when I was a kid.

The first orangutans from the Martins are now at the refuge. How are they doing?

All apes are individuals. They are affected by what goes on in their lives just like any person would be. The first two have been here a little less than a week. I’m happy to report they are very, very comfortable. Rocky, the 3-year-old [pictured, above] , settled in very easily and quickly—you’d pretty much expect that from a healthy normal youngster. His mother, Katy, who’s 19, took a day or two to figure out what was going on. But in the last couple days, she’s so relaxed and has been very playful and happy.

How do orangutans compare with other great apes?

They are not nearly as energetic or animated as the African apes—chimps, gorillas, bonobos. I think people interpret that as being sluggish or uninteresting or maybe not so bright, but it’s just a difference in their pace of life.

So are they as smart as chimps?

Everything strongly indicates that orangutans are equally intelligent and as capable as any other great ape. There’s some indication they do better on a lot of measures of intelligence than other great apes.

Any other notable orangutan traits?

They have a wonderful sense of humor. They’re great at capturing a moment and turning it into something playful or funny. I recall one moment when I was working with one of the most wonderful females I ever knew, Indah, who died a few years ago. Apparently whatever task I had given her that day was not very exciting to her. There was one particular answer on the computer screen we were looking for, one of 28 symbols. Indah reached up and touched every single symbol on screen except the right answer, then looked at me and waited for me to respond. On another similar occasion, she looked at the task I presented to her, turned around, and made a silly face by putting her fingers on her eyes, making a goofy mouth, and just fell onto me and wanted to be tickled and to laugh.

- Marc Silver

Don Frey, left, and Yasar Yildiz are true pioneers of underwater archaeology. They are standing in front of the Uluburun shipwreck exhibit at the Bodrum Museum of Underwater Archaeology in Turkey. Photo by Chris Sloan.

Shipwrecks have been popular at National Geographic magazine for decades. One of our most famous coverages was the Uluburun shipwreck off the coast of Turkey. That wreck site was excavated over a decade in the 1980s and 1990s by George Bass, who many consider as the father of underwater archaeology. Understanding the difference between Bass's concept of underwater archaeology and treasure hunting is important for anyone concerned about preserving the past.

Recently I have had the pleasure of meeting many underwater archaeologists, many of whom would not be doing what they are doing if it were not for Bass. On a recent trip to Turkey I visited two sites where some of these archaeologists are hard at work.

At Yenikapi in Istanbul I met Cemal Pulak and  Sheila Matthews, both of the Institute of Nautical Archaeology, founded by George Bass. Yenikapi is the name of a historic neighborhood in Istanbul, but it is now synonymous with an archaeological site that is perhaps the largest active archaeological dig in the world. Excavations for a major transportation hub in the city revealed the remains of a Byzantine harbor. More than 30 boats from that period have now been found. Pulak, Matthews, and their crew of grad students are meticulously excavating a few of these wrecks. The Istanbul Archaeology Museum has overall responsibility for the project and various universities are deeply involved in excavating and conserving the majority of the boats. Thanks to Bass and his colleagues, methods for proper excavation and conservation of waterlogged boats have been identified and the massive project is proceeding as rapidly as possible under the patient (but for how long?) eyes of construction supervisors.

Pulak, far right, and Matthews show me a detailed drawing of a Byzantine boat they are excavating. Every board of the boat, including every nail hole, is illustrated at 100% scale. Photo courtesy of Aydin Kudu.

A short plane hop south from Istanbul brings one to the coastal town of Bodrum. The place reeks of history, sun, and seafood. In the center of the harbor is a crusader castle built from the stones of one of the seven wonders of the world, the Mausoleum at Halicarnassus. Now the castle is the home of the Bodrum Museum of Underwater Archaeology. Its current director is Yasar Yildiz, another associate of George Bass's who proudly displays the pictures he took, or the pictures he is in, from National Geographic stories about Turkish shipwrecks.

Bass left other legacies at Bodrum. There is a branch of the Institute for Nautical Archaeology there, perched neatly in the hills on the outskirts (ie; five minutes to the harbor) of town. There, another amazing individual, Tuba Ekmekci presides as the director. This is no outpost, however. It is a beautiful headquarters away from headquarters with big windows, clean offices, and manicured gardens. It has a world class conservation facility in its bowels, and some of Ekmekci's most recent activity concerns preparing the water-logged beams and boards from the Yenikapi harbor boats for the long preservation process. It takes years for polyethylene glycol to replace the water in the cells of the wood. But the result is wood that will last another 400 years. In the end, some of these boats will be reconstructed for public display.

And that is what it is all about, in my opinion. Furthering knowledge and public education. That's the nut of the difference between underwater archaeology and treasure hunting. What George Bass and other underwater archaeologists have shown is that through meticulous excavation there is a tremendous amount to be learned. If an archaeological excavation is rushed, information will be lost. It is as simple as that.

The Yenikapi harbor excavation is an example of the dilemma facing archaeologists, city planners, and the public in many places. There is clearly a need for improvements in public transportation, but there is also a need for preserving cultural heritage. In cities all over the world, people are struggling to find the balance. Yenikapi, however, is shipwreck archaeology in the middle of a city. Most other shipwreck sites, I would argue, aren't under the same pressure. Why then, do we tolerate anything less than the Bass approach to underwater archaeology?

UNESCO has presented the countries of the world with a "UNESCO Convention on the Protection of the Underwater Cultural Heritage." Only 17 countries have ratified the convention so far. It seems high time to recognize that shipwrecks are the cultural heritage of the world and should be treated as a cultural treasure deserving of the Bass approach, not a treasure to be looted.

On a final note I will share with you a wonderful photo by Don Frey, the fellow on the left in the picture at the top of this post. Don was a physicist before he met George Bass and was seduced by underwater archaeology. He designed measuring and recording equipment for divers and excelled in underwater photography and filming. He was the president of INA from 1982 to 1988. In this photo he captures the impressive balloon lift of a block of stone from a ship that was carrying enormous Roman column sections (foreground). It is currently being being excavated by INA's and Texas A&M's  Deborah Carlson, a National Geographic Society grantee. Photo courtesy of Don Frey/INA.

The hand singed by the blowtorch looks human. Close inspection reveals that it belongs to a drill, a baboonlike primate, for sale in the bush-meat market in Malabo, the Bioko Island capital of Equatorial Guinea. Scorching flesh brings a higher price for monkey meat, a delicacy in this part of the world. Photographer Joel Sartore captured this alarming scene, hoping to provoke change. He was part of an International League of Conservation Photographers project called a RAVE (Rapid Assessment Visual Expedition) to document wildlife on Bioko. 

Bioko’s bush-meat trade threatens animals like this young drill.

There, primates are hunted and sold through a growing trade fueled by money earned in nearby oil fields. The commitment to make a difference motivated three other National Geographic photographers—Tim Laman, Ian Nichols, and Christian Ziegler—to accompany Joel. National Geographic and Conservation International sponsored the expedition. Along with writer Virginia Morell, Joel, Tim, Ian, and Christian have produced a startling story for this issue. We hope their work will raise awareness of the need for conservation on the island, to help ensure Bioko remains what one biologist calls a “monkey paradise.”

Photograph by Joel Sartore                                                                              

Just as she promised, Marcia Ball cooked up “emergency gumbo and shrimp remoulade”— for those days when you just don’t have time to labor over the stove—at the Smithsonian Folklife Festival. She did all the work in 15 minutes, then just had to wait another 15 for the flavors to meld.

Here’s what you need on hand:

1 cup flour
1 cup oil
2 big onions
1 green pepper
some garlic
4 boxes chicken broth
2 rotisserie chickens (already cooked)
2 bay leaves
green onions for garnish
parsley
salt
pepper
cayenne pepper

The flour and oil are for the roux, a thickening agent. It can take a good 30 minutes  to stir that flour and oil in a pan until it reduces to a rich brown hue. And it takes a lot of elbow grease. So you have permission to cheat. Ball reports that her brother was waiting in line at a Lafayette, Louisiana, post office and listening to the other waitees talk about food. And they all used roux from a jar. (Google “bottled roux,” and there it is!) “I guarantee that restaurants do it, too,” said Ball. “And you can’t tell the difference.”

In a large pot, she poured some of that chicken broth, and added the chopped onion and green pepper. She didn’t add tomatoes because she just doesn’t like them in her gumbo. She added the bay leaves and both rotisserie chickens, but no hot sauce because “It’s not my goal to burn people out.” You could add some small slices of okra, which also acts as a thickener.
As the minutes ticked by, Ball added a dash of cayenne pepper, some black pepper and salt. She did have a helper on hand preparing roux from scratch, which she added toward the end.

At one point she plucked out a chicken bone and noted, “People who’ve never eaten gumbo are sometimes shocked by bones in the soup.”

You can add oysters or sausage at the end, if you want. Voila: 30-minute gumbo! All you need to go with it is some long-grain rice. “To make it pretty,” sprinkle some chopped green onions and parsley on the top.

Then the lanky songstress prepared an even speedier shrimp remoulade.

She took a plate of lettuce and added some slices of avocado. “This avocado probably cost $5,” she noted. “It’s the most beautiful avocado I’ve ever seen.”

She piled some steamed shrimp atop the green bed.

She took a jar and filled it with ingredients for the dressing:

1 cup vegetable oil
1/3 to 1/2 cup vinegar
1 jar creole mustard (which is dense and brown but wasn’t around, so she used stone ground instead)
2 tablespoons paprika
some finely chopped onion and garlic
horseradish (optional)
Tabasco sauce (although “you don’t have to”)

Then she screwed the lid on the jar. “I don’t have a food processor,” Ball said. So she shook that jar with some serious hip motion and sang, “Shake it up baby, come on twist and shout.”

Hmm, the dressing looked a little thin. Maybe she should have used less oil.

To compensate, she added more mustard. The dressing looked good. Her advice: “Don’t skimp on the mustard. It’s the predominant flavor.”

Also: “Salt and pepper wouldn’t hurt it.” And just for good measure, she added a heaping teaspoon of horseradish.

The dressing was a beautiful shade of tan. She poured it on the plate of lettuce, avocado, and shrimp. And there you have it:
Shrimp remoulade!

If you want to try Ball’s girlhood dessert, take some buttered white bread and dip it in a saucer full of syrup. “Boy, I feel old,” she said, describing the sweet treat. “It’s like from another world.”

Oh, and no matter what you cook, you might want to follow the advice of a friend of Ball’s mother. If asked for a recipe, she’d always say, “First you wash your hands.”

Ball closed her session with a joke that shows how Cajuns will cook just about anything. Two Cajuns see a UFO land, and some odd-looking creature gets out. One Cajun asks, “Now what’s that?”

The other one says, “I don’t know, but make some rice.”

- Marc Silver

Xu Xing, co-leader of the Xinjiang expedition, made his name on the feathered dinosaurs of Liaoning, but he's now searching for their origins in older sediments of the relatively unexplored far west of China. Photo courtesy of Jim Clark

China has been known for its fossil treasures for centuries. Yet, until the 20th century, the bones of ancient creatures were ground into powder for traditional medicine. Some of these fossils were thought to be dragons, and thus the medicine, whether mammal or dinosaur, was called “dragon bone.” Today the Chinese celebrate their fossil heritage not by eating it, but by studying it carefully and putting it on public display. Some towns are so famous for their fossils that huge statues of dinosaurs decorate their streets and town centers. Regional natural history museums are popping up everywhere. The transformation of Chinese attitude toward its fossil heritage in the last twenty years has been no less startling than the transformation of its cities, lifestyles, and economy (see NGM May 2008).

Dinosaur-related press coverage in the 1990s was punctuated, even dominated, by discoveries from Liaoning Province, an area now famous for feathered dinosaurs. In this month’s issue of National Geographic, you can read about a new region that is bursting onto the paleontology scene—Xinjiang Province. Well, let’s qualify that. It is not a really a “new” region because paleontologists have long known it to be rich in Mesozoic fossils. Expeditions had been there as early as the 1920s. A famous Chinese-Canadian expedition was there in the 1980s. Knowing the potential of the area, others, including NGS grantees Luis Chiappe, Paul Sereno, and Thomas Martin have been there since.

Our July magazine story features Jim Clark and Cathy Forster of George Washington University and Xu Xing of the Institute of Vertebrate Paleontology who launched a multi-year project in the Junggar basin. The Junggar basin, they knew, had rocks of Middle Jurassic age (the Jurassic is the middle period of the three periods of the Mesozoic era). Rocks of this age are rare, at least on land, so we have a big hole in our understanding of Middle Jurassic dinosaur species. They were particularly interested in finding the fossils of small theropods. These would hopefully provide more information about the origin of birds (Archaeopteryx, the earliest known bird, appears in the fossil record at around 150 million years ago, just after the Middle Jurassic).

I had the pleasure of participating in the Xinjiang expedition twice. I had an interest in finding primordial dino-bird fossils as well as a curiosity about Xinjiang.

Before I went there, I thought Xinjiang would be about as desolate a place as anywhere on Earth. After all, this is the home of the impenetrable Taklamakan desert, the Turfan depression (the lowest elevation on Earth after the Dead Sea), the Xinjiang mummies, and China’s nuclear testing ground. When I landed at the provincial capital of Urumqi (pronounced oo-roo-moo-chee), I was very surprised to find no tumbleweed, but shiny Toyota land cruisers, skyscrapers, and millions of people instead. The discovery of rich oil deposits, plus China’s policy of encouraging immigration to the province, had created a boom town.

Half a day’s drive from Urumqi, in the Junggar Basin, I found the Xinjiang I expected. Base camp was in the middle of a dry valley surrounded by equally dry mountains on three sides. It was reminiscent of the American Southwest, and some parts were as beautiful as the painted deserts there. There were no people there other than the expedition team.

Each morning we would eat breakfast and head off in different directions to look for fossils emerging from sediments. Many of the Chinese crew were technicians who were deployed assisting in extracting  huge blocks of fossils containing many specimens. It would take days with jackhammers and chisels to free the blocks and many men to roll the blocks onto trucks. Their work was quite dangerous.

Fossils were everywhere in this basin. We were tripping over bits of tritylodonts, a mammal-like reptile, and turtles. There were many sauropods as well, but their bones were most often found shattered. I spent my time wandering far from camp, looking for what I hoped would be an important specimen. I did not find any early birds, nor did anyone else, but I did find an important ancestor of crocs (which Clark and Xu unexpectedly named after me—Junggarsuchus sloani!) and a very early pterosaur.

Others on the expedition have found an incredible array of important Jurassic fossils, filling some important gaps in our understanding of what certain dinosaur groups looked like before the Cretaceous period have been filled. Those darn Jurassic dino-birds, however, remain to be found.

New Orleans just declared the Sazerac its official cocktail. A city drink by law? Now that's a piece of legislation I can get behind!

But what exactly is it?

According to the Oxford Encyclopedia of Food and Drink in America, the Sazerac was invented in New Orleans in the early 1800s. It began with a pharmacist named Antoine Amédée Peychaud, who had created something called Peychaud's Bitters, a blend of herbs and alcohol he liked to mix with cognac for his pals.

Sewell Taylor, another local, made the drink famous. He owned the Sazerac Coffeehouse—a common name for bars at the time. And he started serving the drink - which he made with an imported cognac called Sazerac de Forge et Fils. So the name has two possible origins. Either way, it has stood the test of time. But the recipe has since evolved a bit. In addition to bitters, the drink now includes absinthe, sugar, and rye whiskey.

All of this was good to know. But as a journalist, I can’t stop with mere knowledge. I had to imbibe.

Marcia Ball will be cooking on two fronts this weekend at the Smithsonian Folklife Festival in Washington, D.C. On Saturday night and Sunday afternoon, the award-winning rhythm-and-blues singer/pianist will represent her native Texas with several musical performances and a couple of cooking demos. Pop Omnivore will be there and promises to post her recipes for “emergency gumbo and shrimp remoulade”—ready in half an hour, Ball says. Here’s what the lanky Texan had to say about music, food, and life after Katrina.

You’re part of the delegation representing the culture of Texas. What is Texas music?

Texas music is as big as Texas itself. All the influences that make up the music of an entire country come to play in Texas. We have Cajun and Czech and Mexican and some of the roots of the blues and soul music and rap and, of course, western swing and cowboy music.

There are Czechs in Texas?

There’s tons of Bohemians and Czechs here in Texas. We have a huge polka crowd. The Germans came to Texas in one of the first migrations, in the 1830s. They also came to Mexico, which is why Mexico has such good beer (and why Mexico has a great beer called Bohemia). They brought the accordion with them when they came. And the accordion came from Mexico up through Texas to New Orleans.

What makes your music Texas?

I represent the Cajun culture that doesn’t stop at the [Louisiana] state line but is very strong all the way into east Texas and all the way to Houston.

You’ve got a lot of New Orleans in your music.

I grew up listening to Fats Domino and Huey “Piano” Smith and all the great stuff that came out from New Orleans, and my grandmother was a ragtime player from Lafayette.

Did you study piano?

I took lessons when I was a kid, but like everybody else I quit when I was about 14. I started chasing boys and playing sports and stuff. Then I got into a rock-and-roll band, and after a while started playing piano.

You’ve often classified as a blues pianist, but your music isn’t at all down and out.

It’s New Orleans–style rhythm and blues; it’s got that energy and jump to it.

Your new album is called Peace, Love & BBQ. How come “barbecue” is up there with “peace” and “love”?

The song is about home, about country, about family—about anything you do in the yard where friends and family gather and eat and play music.

Do you have any secrets to making good barbecue?

Oh yeah—I let my husband do it! That’s my secret. My husband is the true cook and true foodie in this family. You know two-alarm chili? My husband’s father, Wick Fowler, started it.

Like many musicians from the Gulf Coast, you wrote a song, “Ride It Out,” that alludes to Hurricane Katrina on your new CD. But isn’t it time to move on?

Those people are still in distress. It’s not over, and we don’t need to move on; we need to move on it. I’m going to play with Tab Benoit and the group he calls Voices of the Wetlands at the opening of the Democratic Convention to address the need to restore our wetlands, to turn attention to the fact that they’re critical to the security and safety of our coastal country, and to our food and our resources. If you like shrimp, eat ’em now [unless] we do something about the wetlands.

Are you unhappy with the government’s response?

For the last eight years, [we’ve had] a government that doesn’t seem to much care about its people. I don’t know if you want to get me started on that.

-Marc Silver