Describe a job you would like to have

The job I would like to have in future is a mosaic conservator. I'm from Madaba, in Jordan, and our town is famous for its old mosaics, especially the Madaba Map, which is a map of the Holy Land on the floor of a church, made in the sixth century.

A conservator's job is to protect and repair old mosaics. For example, they clean the surface very carefully with small brushes, and if some of the little stones are loose, they fix them again with special glue. They also take photos and write reports about every change they make, so the future experts can know what happened.

I think this job need a lot of skills. The most important is patience, because sometimes you work on one small area for many days. You also need to have a steady hands, and some knowledge about chemistry, because you must know which materials are safe for using on the stone. Drawing is useful too.

The reason it appeals me is my grandfather. When I was a kid, he always took me to see the Madaba Map and told me stories about it. I remember I was looking at it for hours. Now I study archaeology at university in Amman, and I feel that if I will become a conservator, I can help keeping our history for the next generations.

The job I'd love to have one day is mosaic conservator. I grew up in Madaba, in Jordan, which is known as the city of mosaics, and our most famous one is the Madaba Map, a sixth-century map of the Holy Land set into the floor of a church in the town centre.

Essentially, a conservator's job is to stop these mosaics from deteriorating and, where possible, to repair them. In practice, that means cleaning the surface inch by inch with soft brushes and sponges, re-fixing any of the tiny stones, which are called tesserae, that have come loose, and documenting every single step with photographs and detailed notes, so that whoever works on it in fifty years' time knows exactly what was done.

It takes a particular set of skills. Above all you'd need endless patience, because you might spend a whole week on an area the size of a book. You'd also need steady hands, a good grasp of chemistry to know which adhesives and cleaning products won't damage the stone, and some drawing ability for recording the designs accurately.

The main reason it appeals to me goes back to my childhood. My grandfather used to take me to see the Madaba Map almost every Friday, and he'd point out the different cities on it and tell me their stories. I'm studying archaeology at university in Amman now, and the idea that I could spend my working life making sure these mosaics survive for another fifteen hundred years honestly feels like the most meaningful thing I could do.

If I could choose any career, I'd like to be a mosaic conservator. I'm from Madaba in Jordan, a town that's sometimes called the city of mosaics, and its great treasure is the Madaba Map: a sixth-century map of the Holy Land, laid into the floor of a church, with Jerusalem at its centre.

The work itself is a mixture of science and craft. Day to day, it would involve cleaning centuries of grime off the surface, a few square centimetres at a time, consolidating tesserae, the small stone cubes, that have worked loose, and sometimes lifting a damaged section entirely so it can be stabilised and re-laid. Just as importantly, every intervention has to be photographed and recorded in meticulous detail, because the golden rule is that nothing you do should be irreversible.

The skill set is demanding. You'd need almost limitless patience, since progress is measured in centimetres rather than metres, along with very steady hands and a sound understanding of chemistry, so that you know how a particular cleaning agent or mortar will react with ancient stone. A good eye for drawing helps too, because you're often reconstructing a pattern from fragments.

As for why it appeals to me, it really comes down to my grandfather. On Friday mornings he'd walk me to the church and trace the cities on the map with his walking stick, telling me about each one as if he'd been there. I'm now studying archaeology in Amman, and the thought of spending my career keeping that map, and others like it, intact for another fifteen centuries strikes me as about the most worthwhile way I could possibly use my working life.