The ancient city of Teos lies on an isthmus reaching outward from Turkey's west coast into the emerald waters of the Mediterranean. Over 2,000 years ago, it was one of many Ionian Greek cities that dotted the coastline and islands here. Today it's an archaeological goldmine, but not just for its crumbling temples and amphitheater. Scientists have excavated hundreds of stele, or inscribed stone tablets, which give us a peek inside the bureaucracy that ran this city for centuries. Even the most mundane documents, like a 58-line lease agreement recently unearthed by Akdeniz University archaeologist Mustafa Adak, reveal a lot about this ancient culture. Some might even be disturbing for modern people, as it contains matter-of-fact directions on how rental slaves should be treated.

Carved into a 1.5 meter-long marble stele, the document goes into great detail about the property and its amenities. We learn that it's a tract of land that was given to the Neos, a group of men aged 20-30 associated with the city's gymnasium. In ancient Greece, a gymnasium wasn't just a place for exercise and public games—it was a combination of university and professional training school for well-off citizens. Neos were newbie citizens who often had internship-like jobs in city administration or politics. The land described in the lease was given to the Neos by a wealthy citizen of Teos, in a gift that was likely half-generosity, half-tax writeoff. Because the land contained a shrine, it was classified as a "holy" place that couldn't be taxed. Along with the land, the donor gave the Neos all the property on it, including several slaves.

Like many recent college grads today, the Neos may have been destined to join the privileged classes but were temporarily quite poor. They didn't have the money to maintain a bunch of fancy houses and slaves, so they leased the land to various people over the years—with many stipulations. The Neos asserted the right to use the shrine for three days per year and to inspect the property at any time to be sure that renters were treating it right. According to Adak, who is heading up the excavation at Teos, a huge part of the stele's text is devoted to punishments for renters who violate the agreement. "Almost half of the inscription is filled with punishment forms. If the renter gives damage to the land, does not pay the annual rent or does not repair the buildings, he will be punished. The Neos also vow to inspect the land every year," he told Hurriyet Daily News. There's also a legal mystery. "There are two particularly interesting legal terms used in the inscription, which large dictionaries have not up to now included. Ancient writers and legal documents should be examined in order to understand what these words mean," he said.

Overall, the lease agreement gives us a much stronger sense of everyday life in Teos. We learn that when the Neos' land was leased, it was done at auction. And the renters needed guarantors, so the agreement also includes the names of the renter's father as well as several of the city's dignitaries. Because the gymnasium was the primary training ground for new members of the city's ruling elite, the city administration took great interest in what its students did, which is likely why they were co-signatories on this lease. It's also probably why a wealthy man donated land in the first place, almost like an alumni gift to the Neos.

This is an incredibly rare document in the Anatolian region. Never before have we unearthed such a detailed and complete lease agreement from this era, and it confirms that some aspects of our legal and educational systems in the west are oddly similar to those of ancient Greece. That said, I have never been asked to make a tax-deductible donation of slaves to my alma mater. Which is yet another reason to appreciate the twenty-first century.