Lapidary

I've been thinking about this for awhile - and maybe using this week's word is a tiny bit of a stretch - but I might as well take the opportunity.  It's just a reminder anyway - not a sermon or anything.  Some people don't realize that the diamonds you buy, stick in your engagement ring, in your ears, around your neck, in your grill, whatever, can include a microscopic laser-engraved number, guaranteeing the ethical discovery, recovery, and cut/polish of your sparkly gem.

Some people don't realize what the alternative to all that ethical-ness is.

Here is where I have to admit that I don't really grasp the fullness of what happens in the diamond mining industry.  I did get to see a corner of that world a few times though.  And it bugs me sometimes how I get so comfortable in MY realm that I lose awareness of OUR realm.  The real one that includes the real world and the real people doing real backbreaking, sweat pouring, hard, hard work so I can have little luxuries like a diamond on my finger that is supposed to represent eternal love and commitment.  (Even though most of the world manages the same love and commitment without a shiny stone.) 

 

But I did say this wasn't a sermon.  And it's not a rant against diamonds.  I have one.  It's a beautiful antique ring Jon and I found in this small jewelry store in Ephrata.   Inside is an inscription that says R.L.H. to A.E.N. 4/22/32.  I love imagining the couple that it represents - the romance they had.  I wonder how they were affected by the then coming war.  In my mind it was a strong and full love and Jon and I have only picked up where they left off.    

Back to diamonds.  I've been to mines in Ghana where some of these tiny stones are dug out of the mud.   Nothing can help me take you there in person but let me try to describe what I see -what you would see if you were there.  

You drive for several miles along a mud track through short palm forests and empty fields.  Occasionally you see a farmer attacking the brush with a machete, in a fight to clear a small patch of land but otherwise there's not much around.  Nothing to indicate that you are close to a rich diamond pocket.

The only identifying feature when you reach the pits are rows of thatch stalls along a wide path.  They're mostly empty now as the miners are at work but at lunch time they'll be filled with smoke, cooking food and hungry men and women.  As you walk past, the path narrows and starts to follow a small, shallow stream.  

Off the path, up away from the stream, is another gathering of wooden shelters.  

Under sit a team of women hard at work.  They balance shallow pans of dark stones, garnet, the size of pin heads.  With black combs they card through the stones, searching with sharp eyes for any speck of diamond that the other miners missed.  Whenever they find one they pop it in a tiny vial, no more than half an ounce, filled with water.

Farther down the path you begin to see people milling about.  A steep climb brings you to the mouth of the pit which opens surprisingly fast in front of you.  

About four stories deep and as big as a city block, the dirt walls just drop off from where you stand.  Straight down. Probably 100 people (or more) swarm all over the pit.  Everyone is moving.  Digging, filling, carrying huge shallow bowls filled with rocks and dirt up, up, up the steep ledges to the top.   

A couple hundred feet away is another massive hole.  Half of this one is filled with water.  The mini-pond is lined with upside down metal drums.  

Men wash through the gravel and mud, slowly sifting the rubble down to the finer stones.  

These are then inspected for the clear, jagged, rough diamonds.   Once it has been sifted and searched several times the dregs are given to the women under the wooden shelters to sift a final time - they cannot afford to miss a single diamond - even tiny shards are kept.

We talked with the owner of the land.  He explains that the men and women work in multi-person teams, often by family or village.  Each team is assigned a plot within the pit.  There is no guarantee that they will find anything other than dirt and rocks in their area but assuming they do find a diamond they will sell it to the land owner for a tiny fee.  The equivalent of a few dollars.  He sells it to a merchant, who sells it to a larger diamond merchant, who sells it to yet another merchant or, if he's big enough, to the government.  

The government sells the diamonds in bulk packages to companies who then send them to be polished (enter the lapidary).  In all likelihood they make it to De Beers where a huge markup is assigned (but I'm not going to go into my thoughts on the artificially inflated prices here).  Then a love struck young man, with no knowledge of this path, and probably no general diamond knowledge either, gets a hasty lesson in cut, color, clarity, and "princess" vs "marquise", spends two months salary on the brilliant sparkle, and places it on his beloved's finger in a joyful, teary moment.

Which is FINE.  But the truth is that the worker who first uncovered that dirty little gem gets nothing.  A few cents, a few dollars at most.  Finding a diamond doesn't set him for life.  Finding a hundred diamonds doesn't set him for life.  

Conflict could easily turn a situation like the one I described into a full scale factory operation -  pumping money into war and destruction.  Despite the safeguards in place to minimize the sale of conflict diamonds, thousands still slip though the cracks annually. 

Again: if you want a diamond - buy one.  Nothing is wrong with that.  Buy a few.  I'm a big fan of the triple stone rings.  So pretty.  Or the channel set bands.  I was born with the eye of a magpie - trust me - I understand shiny things.  

But - why not do a little research, find out how to get a diamond that isn't tied to exploitation and conflict?  Spend an extra hundred dollars or so - the diamond is forever anyway, right? - and buy one with the laser engraved serial number.  Buy a diamond second hand and have it reset or a locate a vintage ring.  Or, if you're inclined, maybe rethink your gemstone needs altogether.  There are alternatives and a beautiful band can be just as meaningful - regardless of what the billboards tell you.   

My conclusion was to be more conscious - in every area of life - of how my actions and choices really represent one piece of a long chain of events.  I have a choice to support certain actions and discourage others.  

And you do too.