Tollundmanden

The local museum in the Danish town of Silkeborg is not one of the most impressive museums you can visit in the world. Silkeborg's history is relatively recent and the town does not have had the central role in Danish history as other towns have had, and thus the museum focuses mainly on the town's industrial history, as well as the many artifacts in the central Jutland area from the Iron Age. 

But it is regarding the latter that the small museum is world famous: it contains one of the most extraordinary Iron Age finds in the world. Tollundmanden is the mummified body of a man from the early iron age; it is estimated to be from around 400 BC. 

Tollundmanden was found by peat-diggers from the Højgaard family in Tollund in a peat bog at Bøllingsø, an ancient dried lake by Moselund, near the small village of Engesvang, in 1950. The Højgaard family were from the nearby town of Tollund, and thus they inadvertently gave the name to the mummy, despite it coming from Moselund. My family knew the Højgaard family well, and they often joked that Tollundmanden was so ugly that he must be a family member... 

All this said, the body they found was so well-preserved that Højgaard family members called the police, who quickly realized that the body was not the victim of a crime, and called archeology professor Peter Vilhelm Glob (1911-1985) from Århus university, who had the body taken to Copenhagen for scientific research and dating (after significant protests from Silkeborg, the body eventually ended at Silkeborg Museum in 1952).

The body is well-preserved, and in particularly the head appears in perfect condition: as a man sleeping quietly, with all details in his face clearly outlined. The body is less well-preserved: when he was found there was doubt that they would be able to conserve the entire body, and the head was taken off to make successful conservation efforts. 

Most of the rest of the body was cut into pieces, and parts were scattered in different museums (for many years only the head could be seen at the museum). However, throughout the 1980s, the body parts were assembled, many were in very bad condtion, and a partial reconstruction of the body was made, which is how he can be seen today. Interestingly, the feet are also almost in perfect condition, but a toe was missing and was only found in 2016: in an effort to preserve the body, B. Brorson Christensenm one of the conservationists in 1950, took a toe off (meaning that one of the toes is reconstructed) and never returned it: the toe was only found in a desk drawer after his death.

It has taken time and technology to determine many things about who Tollundmanden was, but many questions remain. He is estimated to have been around 40 years old by the time of his death, and he had once broken his hands; injuries on his feet point that he walked mostly barefoot. It was only determined in 2021, with the use of modern technology that his last meal had been porridge with barley, flax, wild weed seeds, and some fish, giving us a glimpse of the food they ate in northern Europe 2500 years ago. 

It is also clear that he died by hanging or strangulation; the leather rope around his neck is very tightly bound, and later examinations have concluded that he was likely hanged due to the distention of the tongue (which is common in hanging). 

Then what are the theories about this man? 

Initially it was thought that he was a criminal, since he had been hanged. This has been discounted by many historians and archeologists, who indicate that the careful fetal position he was put into, his eyes and mouth closed, as well as the fact that he was clean-shaven, fed, and not any other injuries, may rather indicate that he was rather sacrificed. He is estimated to have died in winter or early spring (due to the lack of fresh fruit or meat in his last meal), a time when food may have been scarce, and when sacrifices may have been a way to appease the gods (nothing is known about their religion, but Roman writings about northern German Barbarians some centuries later mention that some tribes practiced human sacrifice in bogs). 

Interestingly, while the body was so well-preserved, his DNA has not been preserved; or at least not enough to make more detailed estimates about where his group came from or where descendants are to be found. This has also made it speculation on his skin, hair and eye colour. Although a recreation by a French artist in 2019 (which can been seen in the museum) makes him blue-eyed and red haired, this will remain mere speculation until and if new techniques are developed. 

Although surely Tollundmanden is the most famous, around 800 bog-bodies dating to the Iron Age have been found in bogs in Denmark. One is worth mentioning in this context, namely Elingekvinden, which can also be seen at Silkeborg Museum. 

She is less well-preserved than Tollundmanden, with the face almost gone, but an elaborate braid of her long hair can still be seen. Just as Tollundmanden she had also been carefully been laid to rest after being hanged (and she was around 25 years old), and was found only 80 meters from Tollundmanden (in 1938). Ellingekvinden is estimated to be perhaps around 100 years younger than Tollundmanden (355-205 BC), but the proximity and the similarities would also point towards the theories of sacrifices. 

Tollundmanden remains a fascinating (if not slightly macabre) exhibition: a quiet, sleeping man, carrying his message to us from 2500 years ago

 

My 2021 Christmas video

I have finished my 2021 Christmas video. Ten years since I started making these videos, at first because I had nothing to do and impress a girl (obviously didn't work), and it has become a bit of a habit, even though I am the only person who sees these videos, which are generally stupid and boring, but I have that small neurotic pride that at least I have done something creative in my life otherwise devoid of creativity and anything near intellectual challenges.

This year I have been a bit more ambitious, trying new cameras, angles, and technical tools, most notably lip-movement. The inspiration is one of my favourite movie characters; Indiana Jones, and the video has many small personal touches that only I will see, but which makes this stupid creation mine.

Anyway, the link is this:  https://vimeo.com/657164131/57bd4393d4

The gold in Kumase

In March 1957 the Gold Coast colony declared independence from Great Britain as the great nation of Ghana. People were understandably thrilled. Ghana was the first country in Sub-saharan Africa to declare independence from their European colonial master. The British had agreed to leave in peace, and were leaving behind a country with a huge potential. The future was all for Ghana there to take. 

Kumase is the second city of Ghana and main city of the Ashanti peoples; historically one of the most powerful nations of West Africa. The military Fort of Kumase would be transferred from the British military to the armed forces of the new nation; the Union Jack would be lowered one last time, to be replaced by the red-yellow-green flag, with a black star on its center, symbolizing African unity. 

The fort had been one of the most important military installations in the Gold Coast Colony. It was among other place here that the notorious Gold Coast regiment had been stationed. The fort had attained a legendary status for the British during the Ashanti uprising of 1900 (the so-called Yaa Asantewaa war, or the war for the Golden Stool). Then, thousand of brave Ashanti warriors had besieged the fort for months. Barely 50 British citizens (including the governor of the Gold Coast) and 800 refugees went through hunger and debacles, before being finally rescued by a British force. 

The last British officers on duty had their orders to facilitate a smooth transition to the newly established Ghanaian military, pack down all documents and items of importance. Most material was to be handed be handed over to the Ghanaians. The Ghanians were not completely aware of what this included, and although an inventory list had been provided by the British, this list was not complete. 

In a store-room in the fort, there were large quantities of Ashanti gold and other valuable objects of Ashanti culture. These items had been stoeln at different times during the Ashanti-British wars, mostly during the second Anglo-Ashanti war of 1874, when troops led by Sir Wolseley plundered and burned down Kumase. The British had been ordered to hand over the gold to the Ghanaians: to bring these items out of the country would be impossible under the given circumstances, and despite a long-history of plundering its colonies, British public opinion would be against to see that after so many years of colonial rule, the British took home the spoils of the newly independent country. No: The gold was to stay in the fort, and then the Ghanaians could dispose of it whichever way they wished. 

However, the gold was not included in the inventory list provided to the Ghanaians. 

The two British officers in charge of the handover were fond of their time in the Gold Coast; they were happy for the new nation, although a certain colonial nostalgia and military pride overtook them on the last day. But they had a job to do: they went through the inventory, including the valuable gold objects in the store-room. It had a large wooden door, which faced a small open space on the back-side of the fort. It had before been used to store ammunition. When the two officers were taking a last look at the room, they saw an old sign, from the time when the room had been used for the storage of ammunition: “Danger! Do Not Enter!”, it warned. 

As a final prank, the officers decided to put up the sign on the door. They smiled cheerfully as they thought of the surprise the Ghanaians would have when they carefully opened the door and found nothing dangerous, but instead beautiful artifacts of Ashanti culture. 

The transition went smoothly and the Ghanaians took over the fort. At first, they turned it into a miltary barack, and the fort eventually became the museum of the armed forces of Ghana. But the room was not opened: With other priorities on their mind, and a fear that they would not have the necessary expertise to handle the dangerous materials in the room, the Ghanaians dared not enter the room. It took 30 years before someone dared open the room, under very strict safety conditions, because a refurbishing of the museum was taking place. It must indeed have been a big surprise to find all this beautiful gold in there, just as the two officers had imagined. But did they smile thinking that their little prank took 30 years to be revealed?

I heard this story many years ago when visiting Kumase and the Armed Forces Museum there.  

A beautiful woman

I have never been good at meeting women. I am not good-looking; I am shy, and not particularly interesting. And I have learnt to distrust if am woman shows interest in me, because I cannot see why anyone would. This was not always the case, and perhaps a quite amusing situation that happened to me in the infamous city of Las Vegas some years ago, may be some of the cause for this healthy distrust of the female gender.

After having spent some days hiking at the Grand Canyon and spending a few days on the road between Las Vegas and Flagstaff, Arizona, I had a full day in Las Vegas, Nevada, before boarding a flight that would take me back to Caracas, Venezuela, where I was living at the time. Las Vegas is the city of sin, but besides my propensity for beer and football, I am not much of a sinner: I don't gamble, don't overly enjoy hard liquor, and not particularly attracted to the temptations of the flesh on offer in Las Vegas. I nevertheless wanted to see the place and glance at the immense variety of people visiting the city. Having seen the overwhelming natural beauty of the Grand Canyon, Las Vegas appeared as the perfect contrast of materialistic kitsch and extravaganza created by humans.

After checking into the Luxor Hotel and Casino (because it looks like a pyramid!) in the early morning, I spent the day walking casually up and down the "Strip", carrying a little bag with a map, water, my notebook, "The Economist"; I went into many of the enormous casinos, and enjoyed the discovery of a new place, even one as extravagant as Las Vegas. 

By early afternoon I walked into a huge mall, the "Miracle Mile", as I had promised someone in Venezuela to look for some clothes for her 2-year old daughter. I had just walked a few minutes when a gorgeous woman passed by me: big brown eyes that stood out more by the natural darkness around them. She had soft, shoulder-length brown hair, and a light brown skin with a light pottery colour, as soft as silk (as cliché-like as it may sound). She was a bit smaller than me, and although dressed conservatively, any man would have noticed a perfectly proportioned body. 

Even though I pretended not too, I could not help but glance at her as she walked by. Perhaps she felt my gaze; she looked straight at me... and smiled! A big, beautiful, honest smile! I smiled back, probably a silly, goofy, shy smile, and kept walking with a bit of extra confidence, happily thinking to myself: "People are so nice here in America! A smile like that from a woman like that will warm my heart for the rest of my life". 

I continued looking for baby clothes in the enormous mall, without luck (I may be the only person in the history of Las Vegas who went to Las Vegas, and spent time looking for baby clothes!). Half an hour later, I was walking by another part of the mall, and lo-and-behold, I saw the same woman just ahead of me! As I walked past her, she also saw me, and this time I smiled first, and she smiled back. I was just going to continue on my way, but she approached me: "Didn't I see you before?" 


"Yes", I said smiling, but also ready to move on. 


"Where are you from?", she said insistingly. 


"Denmark" 


"Really? I thought that maybe you were Hispanic" 


"Well, to tell the truth, I live in Venezuela", I said, now ready to talk more to her, not because I was particularly confident, but because she was being so friendly. 

"Oh! That is no nice!" she said with an apparently honest interest. 

"What do you do there?"

I always find this a difficult question: I am a boring public servant, there is nothing particularly interesting in what I do, and I am somewhat embarrassed to say it to people. 

"uhh… I… ooh… I work for my government...". I then quickly added: "And where are you from?" 


"I am from here", she said, still with that hypnotic smile, and looking me straight in the eyes in such a way that I could feel myself to start sweating. 

"Las Vegas?" 


"Well, I am originally from Georgia, but I live here" 


"I have good friends from Georgia!" 


"How nice! Have you been there?" 


"No…" 
I was still not sure what else to say, but she was insisting on the conversation. 


"Can I ask you something?" she said, somewhat mysteriously. 


"Yes" 


"You have such nice skin! Do you use anything for your skin…?" 


"uhhh… Noooo… Not really…." I said a bit taken aback by the question. 


"Can I show you something?" she said, taking my hand (and feeling her hand made me sweat even more) before I could say anything and leading  to a small stand, where she sat me on a stool. 

"What is your name?" 


"Erik", I said. "And you?" 


"I am Nathalie" she said smiling, and while she opened a can of cream, she asked me whether I was in Las Vegas alone. 


"Yes", I said. 


"Are you married?" 


"No", I said 


"You are kidding me! How come!?" she said, sounding truly surprised, but also with a teasing tone of flirtation. 


"Well… I don't know… I guess I travel a lot", I said, not really knowing what to say to all this interest and beauty. 

"That is so strange! You should come to live in America!" 


I had to smile at that. 

"Are you married?" 


For the first time she looked at me seriously: "I was" 


"I am sorry", I said.


"Don't be! He was an idiot!" she said, and I wondered how any man in their right mind could be an idiot to such a woman. 

While talking, she started to put some cream on my face, gently rubbing her hands against my chubby cheeks, and telling me how this cream could help my already beautiful skin. 

"I think you do not sleep a lot" 


"Yes", I said honestly, thinking of my frequent periods of insomnia. 


"I can see it. You should try to use this under your eyes", she said, and added some other cream under my eyes, as she told me I had beautiful eyes, and that I should promise her to use this creme. 

There is no doubt that Nathalie was a great saleswoman: I walked away from her with 350 USD worth of skin-products that I only used only occasionally when I remembered I had them, but most of all when I wanted to think of a beautiful woman who appeared interested in me, even if it was only for selling me something.

And that is the real story of my life!

Lady with a fan obsession

 I was recently looking for some art on the internet. I started looking at some Gustav Klimt, and saw "Lady with a Fan", something that started an eager search for painting of women with fans. Of course, this has been a widely used theme, with many excellent paintings by Picasso, Berthe Morisot and Renoir, but also by painters that were lesser known to me like Ayla Maher and Victor Ernesto Rivera. In any case, it has started a small obsession about drawing a lady with a fan.

I first draw some models with a pose and then look at pictures for the dress and fan. They are a combination of pencil, pastel and pen. I am not happy with any of them, but I am quietly enjoying this obsessive search in my mind for the perfect mysterious woman with a fan!

 

Face Masks

I hate face masks. Not just because of the exaggerated claims that it represents the main line of protection against the COVID virus (you can still get COVID if you were a mask!) or enormous the discomfort of breathing your own stale exhalations for hours (have you been on a 10-hour flight without taking your mask off?). No, the main reason to hate the masks is how it downgrades one of the most important things about human interaction: facial expressions.

I am surprised that this has not been more widely discussed amid all the concerns about COVID and social interactions. “Social distancing” and isolation are not the only repercussions that COVID is having on how we interact as humans.  Interacting with someone with a facemark is simply not the same as interacting with someone without.

Facial expressions are an inherent and important part of any conversation, and a partially covered face limits the conversation and opens up for misunderstandings (and this not counting the rather trivial fact that it is more difficult to hear what a person with a covered mouth is saying). Although the eyes are the most important part of the face, it does not take away that we, as humans, are unconsciously trained to interpret any small clues in a face: a widening or wrinkling nose; a half-smile or a cheek wrinkle; pursed lips or elvis lips. These and other micro-facial expressions become hidden when we interact, and contribute to limit trust.

You simply cannot get to know a person whose face is partially covered.

As society has slowly begun to open, our interactions are increasingly among mask-wearing people. In a shop one can understand it, although it adds another distance to the superficial interaction that could always benefit from a friendly expression. I reckon that common human politeness has suffered from the pandemic…

However, the situation is worse in social settings, and I have frankly little patience for having a conversation with a person whose face remains covered. It has happened to me in the office, where I have been at meetings where I take off my mask to the confused and sometimes slight discomfort of the others (I keep distance off course). Sometimes people also take off their masks, but at least as often they keep them on for a conversation that in my view is grossly distorted ensues. I am giving more away than I am receiving, and I can often hardly hide my annoyance, which is embarrassingly revealed by my uncovered face.

I don’t want to sound as if I am completely against masks: of course they limit the spread and provide comfort for many people. However, masks are not a panacea; they are at best a limited first line of defence against the COVID scourge and at worst a false sense of protection - a placebo against fear. Just like any other choice to protect against the virus wearing masks has consequences in how we interact as humans. Some people may judge them of limited value, but for me a human face represents an infinite world of details that has been another victim of this pandemic.

An Easter Story

 Galilee in the time of Jesus Christ… (rough translation from ancient scrolls)

“I am going to tell you about this wedding I went to, but please, serve me some wine first.”
Joseph of Naim loved wine, and Pontus served him some more of it. He had already had a few. This was surely to be a story of him being drunk! They would always have a good laugh with them, and he seemed in a good mood to tell this one; according to him, this story was different than any other.
And so Joseph started telling his story:

“I was invited for a wedding in Canaa. I really didn’t want to go! I know the father of the groom, and he is the cheapest man in all of Galilee! Not even for his children’s wedding will he serve any good food, he will water down the wine, which is already one of the cheapest... But… we are faraway relatives, and he had been at my sisters wedding. So I was obliged…"
"Nevertheless, the idea of going also gave me some amusement. I knew they would be thinking: 'oh no! Is Joseph of Naim coming!? Don’t you remember how he behaved at the last party!?'"
"Ha! I have always been the black sheep of the family, just because I like to have a good time!"

Joseph paused for a sip of wine and grinned: "In any case, I had no mayor expectations to this bore of a party, but thought I could take advantage and spend some time in Canaa, where I have some good drinking buddies."

"The wedding was nicely set up, as usual, and there were plenty of guests in the groom’s family’s house. We all sat down, and food was fine, although I couldn’t stop thinking about the cheap host. The wine was fine, but I immediately realized there wasn’t enough, and that we would run out."

"'Oh no!', I though, and tried to drink faster, so that I would be served again, and thus drink more than all others. I tell you my friends, that is years of drinking experience talking!"

"There were quite a few people at the party. I struck conversation with a friendly fellow called Andrew. Asking him what he did, he said he was a 'disciple'.
'A what!?'
'A disciple', he said. 'I follow my master Jesus of Nazareth and his teachings.'

"I just thought this was another nutcracker of those we are having so many of around here these days, but nevertheless I took a good liking to him, since he was keeping up quite up with me at drinking wine.
He told me that they were twelve disciples and I asked him what this Jesus did and so on, and he told me that he taught about love between all men.
I just thought, 'this is worse than I thought…'” 

"Anyway", Joseph continued as he asked for mote wine, "we kept chatting, making fun of the host and of the servants, while pouring wine down our throats. We were joined by another guy, whose name I hardly remember, but I think he was a cousin from Caesarea or something. A good drinker as well: he had brought his own goat-skin with half a firkin of excellent wine which he let us taste. Nevertheless, myself and my two drinking companions knew that the party was running out of wine, and even though it was early, I began to think that it would soon be time to leave the party and check out some of those rowdy local establishments in Canaa. You know how much I like travelling and seeing new places!"

"At one point one of those twelve disciples comes up to Andrew and tells him there is no more wine. He tells him that Maria (whom, I learned later is this Jesus of Nazareth’s mother. She is related to one of the newlyweds, and that is why they were invited) has told Jesus there is no wine, which apparently upset Jesus of Nazareth. He was now out in the back with the servants.
I just thought, 'sounds like a cool guy this Jesus fellow! I am upset as well!' Andrew got up with some difficulty, and asked me to come along to the back where Jesus was with the servants."

Joseph of Naim lit up as he described his meeting with Jesus of Nazareth: "I tell you one thing my friend: this Jesus of Nazareth is an incredible person! Strangely, you feel truly overwhelmed when you look at him. This was even so, as he was so upset. And I tell you, what I saw next I will never forget as long as I live":
"Jesus told the servants to take out some of the big stone pots. You know them; those pots with 4 firkins in each. There were six of the pots, and he ordered the servant to quickly fill them with water."
"I was a bit tipsy and was also helping out by giving orders to a couple of the servants: 'Yeah! And be quick with that water! Careful with the jar!', and so on." 

"You know me, I like making myself useful."

"Myself and my companion from Caesarea were giggling, while still sipping on the last of his wine from the goat skin, while Andrew was looking awfully serious. They filled up the pots with water, to the brim. I saw it! Nothing happened, and then Jesus told them to bring it out to the host.
I burst out in laughter. 'Ha! That cheap-ass will have himself a surprise with all that water!'
But Andrew looked at me, put a hand in one of the pots that were being carried out, and put it to my mouth. It was the most delicious wine I had ever tasted!
I tell you my friend, I stammered (and burped): 'but…. What…?' I had seen them put all the water in those pots!"

"We followed the servants out to the party, where the pots were placed in front of the host, and he was served some of the wine. He looked surprised, and asked why they were only bringing out the good wine now? Why they had not served the good wine first?"

"I am pretty sure that cheap-ass was just wondering who was paying for that delicious wine, and wishing he had had the opportunity to keep it to himself."

"The party really got started! I tell you my friend, I dug into that delicious wine with my friend from Caesarea, as if this was the last wine in the world. We loved it! And made from water! I still couldn’t believe it! I went up to Andrew, and asked him if his master his master was available for bachelor parties or other events, as I would be interested in hiring him."

"Andrew was a nice guy, and he smiled politely and said cheers in the delicious wine, while he told me that I should just remember what I had seen. I told him honestly 'I will never forget this! Well… I don’t promise I will remember the whole evening…' "

Joseph laughed heartily.

"You get it my friend? I thought it was the funniest thing I had ever said, but Andrew didn’t crack up. I guess when you are in the disciple business, you have to refrain from going too crazy, since Andrew kind of kept back on the wine (although he can probably get it every day)."

"As the night wore on everybody got more and more drunk, not least myself. You know how I like a party! My friend and I started a drinking conquest: down a quarter firkin, and then turn around yourself 10 times, and then down another half. Many were up for it, and we started off well. Nevertheless, at one point this bore of a guy came up to us and told us to keep it down and relax a bit. I just told him to mind his own business and pushed him away. I looked at him angrily, and I was pretty ready for a good fight, when my friend Andrew came by and dragged the guy away telling him, 'Judas Iskariot, don’t do this'.  Apparently, he was another of the disciples of Jesus of Nazareth, some of whom were obviously donkeys!
The drinking conquest continued just until the groom’s little brother threw up, and his grandmother dragged him away. Ha ha! The old lady looked with reproach at me!" 

“He has got to learn to drink sometime!', I shouted at her."

"After taking a huge piss during which I tried to write my name in the sand (I am so good at that you know, when it is in Latin), me and my friend from Caesarea then stood on the table arm in arm, and started to sing; well, firstly, I gave a speech." 

"You know my friend, that I have always been a great public speaker: I started by making a toast to the bride and groom: 'he will surely get to use the snake tonight!' and we all laughed (well, maybe mostly myself…).
We then sang one of the long songs: you know the one with 'more wine, more tits and less talk'!? Oh! I love that song! It didn’t catch on well though, and at one point the host asked us to step down from the table.
After my sixteenth refill, I thought we would have to thank the host, and shouted out: 'I think we need to cheer our greeeaaat host who has given us this night to never forget (most of it)! Cheers!'
People just cheered quietly, and then my friend from Caesarea shouted out, 'and Jesus of Nazareth!'"

"He was right! I shouted out 'A big cheer to Jesus of Nazareth and his disciples! May they continue giving their best to us all!'
My friend from Caesarea just shouted “heard!” and started cheering 'Jeeesus, Jeeeesus, Jeeesus!', and I joined him in cheering on the wine-maker from Nazareth.I don’t think this last part of my speech came out well with Jesus of Nazareth himself. But I really felt I needed to express my appreciation!"

"I wanted to thank Jesus of Nazareth personally, and even maybe ask if he had ever considered going into business. He was obviously an extremely talented man!"

"However, I was so overwhelmed by his presence, that I couldn’t get myself to go up and ask him. I don’t know. I have never been shy, but I tell you my friend.... There was something…. something amazing about that man. As if he was too large for all of us, even for me! I am sure it is not the last we have heard of him. Not only because of the wine, but I will always have his look burned into my mind."

"Now, my friend from Caesarea was not that shy: he was totally drunk when he filled up his goat-skin with water and went up to Jesus and said: 'can you make me a refill?',and as he burped lightly, Jesus looked at him seriously, just nodded, and signaled for him to go. At this point the party was ending, people were tiredly leaving, and I also decided that this was the time to leave. I said my goodbyes, among them to Andrew, the disciple: 'remember what I told you!', he said, and I could just repeat that I would never forget that day, and I had to promise to at least try to listen up on Jesus of Nazareth’s teachings, and all that..." 

"I got hold of my friend from Caesarea and asked him to come along into Canaa. Of course, he was ready, and we left cheerily down the road, singing songs praising Jesus and having good-ole burping contests.
After a while, we sat under a tree, and brought out the goat-skin which Jesus had just made into wine for my friend.
He took the first sip and spit it out immediately. 'Let me try', I said, and I also spit it. 'It’s pure vinegar!'
We looked worried at each other but then burst out laughing!" 

“This Jesus is truly great!!! He has a sense of humour as well!!!”

"We got up and continued into a drinking spree in the town, and merrily telling how we would have done the exact same thing ourselves. Jesus of Nazareth was an unforgettable fellow!”

Pontus and the others were impressed by this story as they ordered more wine. It was surely not as any other story Joseph of Naim had told before. Some of us had already heard about this Jesus of Nazareth. He was going around Galilee preaching. But this was surely the most impressive story they had heard!