The Sumerians

Chapter 1: Puabi

My name is Puabi, and I'm a Sumerian girl. It is around 3500 B.C.E. now. Sumer (my region) is located in Mesopotamia. The days are long and drag on slowly. The scorching sun is beating down on the hot region, making workers feel sticky. Everyone's faces have beads of sweat dripping down them. It is very hot here, and barely any rain comes. I want the rain to come. I want the land to become moist, and to feel a cool little raindrop fall on my face, washing away my troubles, and relieving me. I believe rain is very beautiful. Most people do. I straighten my crimson dress as I head down the stairs of my house. I live in a mud-brick house, and the sun heats up its tiled-roof, until it is toasty and way too hot. I watch my father and mother set breakfast on the wooden table we have. They are very tan from going outside a lot, and have exhausted faces. Their brown eyes dart up from the table as they spot me.

"Good morning Puabi," they said, giving a forced smile. Apparently, they were displeased that I had gotten more sleep than them. But I was displeased as well. For my nineteen-year-old brother, Ishme, was still in bed. He had gotten more sleep than me!

"Good morning," I greeted my parents, plopping down a chair. I lick my dry lips as I scan our breakfast. We were having warm bread, that was soft in my hands, and fresh from the oven. We also had pistachio nuts to munch on. My father drunk a large cup of beer. He said that he wasn't that hungry, so he got up and left for work. He works in the lower class, as a fisher. My mother is a skilled basket weaver. I want to weave baskets just like her when I am older.

"Mother, when will I be able to go to school?" I questioned hopefully. I wanted to go to learn and write. The other thing I wanted to be when I was older was a scribe. It would be interesting. My mother hesitated, biting her lip and avoiding eye contact with me. She finally spoke when I gave my eyes a sharp narrow.

"Puabi, we are poor. We're not exactly fully poor, but kind of poor," she replied sympathetically, reaching her dark hand out to hold mine. "We can't afford to have you go to school, and not much schools accept girls these days. There are mostly boys." I placed my hand in hers, and I squeezed it tightly. She winced so I stopped squeezing it so tightly. But she also had mournful look on her face, as she examined my drooping face. After that, we finished out breakfast and I raced up the stairs to shake my brother awake. He has wide eyes as he sees me beside his bed.

"I'm awake!" he told me, shooting up from his bed. I chuckled.

"Come on, let's head for a walk," I urged, tugging on his shirt sleeve. He got up and ate a short breakfast of a thin slice of bread, then rushed out the door with me. Mother waved to us as she held one broom in her hand, standing by the doorway. I dashed around Sumer with Ishme. We saw tons of things. There are many people we see. Some are rich, and have gold and gleaming jewels dotting their dresses (the women of course). Sumerians wear clothes made from animals, such as sheep or other animals. Rich Sumerians have clothes made from good cloth, like silk. We pass by tons of homes. Each are very different. Some are wide and luxurious, but some are small and old. 

The adults roll their eyes as they see Ishme and I darting past them, laughing and feeling the hot ground burning out feet. Okay, maybe the ground burning our feet wasn't good, but it felt nice to go outside. Some storeworkers wave to us as they sit by their stands, and people hauling carts full of items and food grin at us. I see two men carrying a lovely statue of a god, Ea, the god of water and intelligence. There are many people in Sumer who adore artwork. I notice the tanned faces of artists beaming as people gaze at the jeweled bowls they made, necklaces of beads, and many other unique items.

"Ishme, you should head to school now," I reminded him, glancing at the sun, which was high in the sky. "I think you've got a few minutes left!"

Ishme's face fell, and he bit his lip.

"You're right, see you soon Puabi!" he called, rushing in a different direction. I watched him vanish in the distance, then sighed.  I passed a bunch of people who were creating water canals. We use those to provide a store for water. Water is really important to us. I kept trotting around, and watched farmers. They wipe dirt off their faces and carry plows. Plows are very important inventions, just like water canals. We need them to farm food. Ishme has said to me that a long time ago, people used sticks of animal horns to poke in the ground, so they could plant seeds in the holes. That way was harder to plant, but thanks to whoever invented plows, farming is much easier. We have a stable food supply, which makes me happy. Sumer will never go starving. After a few minutes, I take slow steps home, my feet tired and coated with specks of dirt. My mother greets me and takes me in, telling me to take a rest. Meanwhile, Ishme is probably writing cuneiform (Sumerians' way of writing is called cuneiform), on a pad of clay with a thin stick. I would love to learn how to write on clay with a stick. Maybe I could write stories. But the main reason why people need writing is to record events ,keep track of how many animals farmers had, and to also keep track of the goods people traded. I wish I could write. I sit on a chair and watch my mother weave a basket as I think.