Crossing the Borders: New Methods and Techniques in the Study of Archaeological Materials from the Caribbean

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in the Turks and Caicos; David Hodell and colleagues used a variety of methods
to reconstruct past environments in the Caribbean ( Higuera- Gundy et al. 1999;
Hodell et al. 1991); David Steadman, although starting in the Pacific, is among the
first to investigate human- induced animal extinctions on islands (Steadman and
Stokes 2002); and Betsy Carlson’s (1999) investigation of faunal remains at the
Coralie site, especially marine species, has led biologists to reconsider the nearshore
impacts of pre- European populations in the Americas (Jackson et al. 2001).
One of the earliest CRM projects was conducted at El Bronce, Puerto Rico (Robinson
et al. 1985); it is a case study for how scientific objectives can be met in a
contract archaeology framework. Corinne Hofman and Menno Hoogland (1999)
have implemented one of the most comprehensive research strategies executed in
any archaeological context (as evidenced in this volume). Peter Roe (1980) was
the first to address the conclusions of “ceramic sociology” (Deetz 1968; Hill 1970;
Long acre 1970), and although his study was based on the Shipibo- Conibo of South
America, his contributions to the study of Caribbean iconography are well known
(Roe 1995). We can go back even further in time. Gaylord Bourne (1906) called
Ramón Pané’s 1494 account of Macorix religion the first ethnological study in the
Americas, and the concept of chiefdoms is based on the cacicazgos of Hispaniola
(Oberg 1955; Redmond and Spencer 1994). There are many other examples.
My point is that the Caribbean has never been lacking in technological or theoretical
innovation. The problem has been that there were not enough people asking
the right questions. Far too often the description of pottery styles has been the
main objective, and far too often U.S., Hispanic, French, and Dutch scholars have
not read the works of their colleagues; the dissemination of information is complicated
by the publication of results in at least five different languages. A further
problem is the dissection of the West Indies into discrete archipelagos. In this regard,
several people have told me that the Bahamas, where I did my earliest work,
is not Caribbean archaeology! Fortunately, times are changing, and it has taken the
Leiden group to chart the way forward. I am somewhat embarrassed to admit this,
but Hofman, Hoogland, Boomert, van Gijn, Louwe Kooijmans, their students, and
colleagues (I should mention André Delpuech) have developed the most sustained
and integrated program of technological innovation and application in the West
Indies to date. I have tried to recognize the efforts of those who preceded them, but
the ancestors whose shoulders they proudly ride upon often were working in isolation.
In contrast, the Leiden group is a team, and it has been my privilege to work
with them. The chapters in this volume reflect their efforts.
The chapters also reflect a profound change in how Caribbean archaeology is
structured. Until recently, the major paradigms focused on classification. The two
main approaches were Rouse’s time- space systematics (1992), and, among Hispanic
archaeologists, the Marxist emphasis on modo de vida (Ensor 2000; Veloz
Maggiolo et al. 1981). Both tend to homogenize the prehispanic Caribbean, and ig-
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