Photo: An Egyptian soldier stands guard inside the tomb of Maya the treasurer. Photograph by Reza

After looters swarmed the ancient burial ground at Saqqara on January 29, panic swept the world of Egyptology. One online group reported that looters had entered and “destroyed” the interiors of “many tombs.” On the Facebook group “Egyptologists for Egypt,” a contributor wrote that the tomb of Maya, in particular, “is destroyed and even the reliefs in the burial chamber have been hacked out.” As that rumor spread, there was confusion about which Maya tomb—there are two at Saqqara. Some reported that it was the tomb belonging to King Tutankhamun's wet nurse (whose name is often spelled Maia); others said it was that of Tut’s treasurer.

It turns out the reports were grossly exaggerated. The tomb of the wet nurse is still sealed with bricks. And on Tuesday, inspectors at Saqqara led me into Maya the treasurer’s burial chamber. “Nobody touched the tomb here, “ said Mohammad Mohammad Youssef, chief inspector for South Saqqara, as he and a colleague broke a wire and seal on the metal door leading underground. “We put seals on the lock about a month ago when we checked it for humidity and temperature, and the same seals were still here and the locks were not broken.” Youssef and I walked down a tight, sandy staircase of a dozen steps to an iron gate with another three locks on it, and another seal that was untouched after the looting. Then we entered three chambers, over 3,000 years old, shimmering with golden-yellow reliefs.

It may not look like much, but this toe is a royal digit of King Tut's father, Akhentaten. More importanty, perhaps, is that its story tells why it is important to put things back where they belong. Photograph courtesy of Frank Rühli.

From time to time something happens that should be noted because it provides a great example of what there should be more of. I'm talking about the return to Egypt of King Tut's dad's toe. According to a press release from Egypt's Supreme Council on Antiquities, the toe had been missing since 1907.

The back story is that Dr. Frank Rühli, a Swiss radiologist and mummy expert, became aware of the toe's existence and arranged to return it to Egypt. This happy event occurred just days ago. According to Rühli, the toe came into the possession of Professor R. G. Harrison of Liverpool in the late 1960s. In 1966 Harrison published a study of a mummy from Valley of the Kings tomb KV 55 and argued that the body was that of Akhenaten, the likely father of King Tut. It was only weeks ago that Dr. Zahi Hawass of the Supreme Council published the results of an analysis that supported Harrison's identification of KV 55 as Akhenaten by comparing the DNA of the KV 55 mummy to that of King Tut.

The return of the toe comes in the context of a growing clamor for the return of remains and artifacts—stolen or removed under questionable circumstances—to their places of origin. The Maori want mummified heads returned from museums around the world just as badly as the Greeks want the Elgin marbles to the Parthenon. Although Akhenaten's toe is a small thing, the gesture of returning it is grand and should be applauded. It points the way for private citizens, museums, and governments to redress some wrongs that have certainly occurred in the past.—Chris Sloan

Many mummies, such as this one from Savoca in Sicily, are on the verge of disappearing because there are inadequate resources to protect them. Photo courtesy of Dario Piombino-Mascali.

One of National Geographic's iconic topics is mummies. Whether it’s
King Tut or frozen Inca children, National Geographic brings you their
stories. In poll after poll, readers demonstrate a fascination with
mummies. Yes they can be macabre, and I suppose that’s part of their
lure, but there is something noble about them as well. Nothing
connects us with the past so much as these people of the past, these
mummies.

Despite our fascination with mummies, remarkably little thought is
given to what happens to mummies after the media buzz is over. The
answer is, unfortunately, that the majority are not receiving the care
they deserve.

Thousands of mummies all around the world are decaying because of poor
storage conditions. The basement of the Cairo museum has hundreds of
mummies in need of attention. In Siberia and in the Andes, mummies are
defrosting because of warming temperatures at high latitudes and
altitudes.

I'm pleased we presented the story of mummy scientists Dario
Piombino-Mascali, Albert Zink, and Arthur Aufderhide in the February
issue. Scholars like these are highly trained in anatomy, forensics,
pathology, radiology and related specializations. To them, mummies are
a unique opportunity—there is simply no better way to study a
society’s diet, health, and life span. The story also illustrates the
critical condition of these Sicilian mummies. Some have been
vandalized and all are at risk of disappearing if left in their
current conditions.

I met Piombino-Mascali, Zink, and Aufderhide at a conference in the
Canary Islands in 2007. The February article on the Sicilian mummies
came out of that conference. The mummy scientists will be meeting
again soon. This time we will talk about raising awareness about the
future of mummies world-wide.  It seems to me that if scientists can
dig mummies up and the media can run stories about them, then together
we can find ways to raise awareness about mummy conservation. Mummies
might have a lot more secrets to reveal in the future and it’s the
least we can do for our ancestors.

Do mummies deserve a better deal? What cultural dimensions should
scientists and the media should consider ? What do you think about the
future of mummy studies?

Some of the poseurs on America’s Next Top Model got weaves last night. It hurt. A lot. “I just felt like my scalp was bleeding,” said Ebony. Girlfriend, women have been crying over weaves for 5,000 years.

That’s the age of the weave (pictured, above) found in an ancient tomb by archaeologist Renee Friedman, director of the Hierakonpolis Expedition. The hair extensions were woven to the mummy’s real hair were … also her real hair. She must have grown it, cut it off, then had it woven back on for a  little hairdo height. (Big hair was really popular in 3600 B.C.) The weave woman also dyed her hair with henna for color that really lasted – we’re talking millennia!

“In ancient Egypt if one lived to be really old, like 70, they made you a local saint, so old age was respected no doubt for the knowledge and memory that person had (in a society where most people were dead by 35-40),” says Friedman. “But clearly looking one's age has never been the in thing in life or death.”

The picture of the weave is courtesy of (and copyright by) the Hierakonpolis Expedition. Any suggestions about which model should get this 5,000-year-old weave? Anybody dare to submit a photo of the weave photoshopped onto a model (or celebrity) head? It's gotta look better than some of the makeovers on this week's show!

-Marc Silver