As it turns out mining for diamonds is very much not what I anticipated. The week post break seemed less than adventurous, bogged down with school work, I was very much looking forward to a Friday trip to Jwaneng diamond mine.
Through some miscommunication or another (or perhaps because not only did Debswana (Botswana Diamond Company) make me read and sign a huge affidavit but also requested my legal name/any aliases, passport number and SHOE SIZE) I was expecting something a bit more extreme than what I found(1). Rather than spelunking deep into the Botswana earth and picking away at glistening stones, I ended up hiking down to the bottom of a huge hole (or quarry as it is more aptly called) and watching huge quantities of explosives pumped underground, ignited, then the rubble was carried out to be sorted into ‘waste’ (rocks) and diamonds.
Jwaneng (JuWAH nang) is the richest diamond mine in the world and last year they produced 9.04 million carats. Though it was not a cavernous endeavor or to the likes of the workplace of our seven cheery dwarf friends, the 300 meter deep, 1.6 kilometer across canyon was really impressive. (So were the GIANT trucks used to move the ore- see photo)
I will admit, there was a lot of added excitement knowing that if we found a diamond, we would get 3,000 dollars or 50 percent of it’s value. If you find one you are warned not to touch it but just call for help.
I asked what would happen if I were to touch a diamond. Officially, I would be arrested and kept in jail until questioning proved I was not involved with black market gem trading, then as the international that I am, I would be deported. Unofficially, they cut off my hands.
The process of eliminating conflict free diamonds was really fascinating. In a very simplified explanation, the diamonds are mined in Jwaneng, sent to England to be cleaned and certified, then returned to Botswana for cutting and polishing, then back into the diamond market. Blood diamonds are smuggled into the process so they appear like they came from a legitimate operation. SO to stop this, everything from the moment the rubble is pulled out of the explosion is weighed, the weight has to stay the same for the whole time. Mass is neither created nor destroyed! Pretty cool I thought.
I passed the exit search. No diamonds but all limbs in tact.
Saturday some friends Rodney and Jan, who grew up here and are guides could take us camping.
It may have been the single least describable happening thus far. Maybe a bit too sacred to relay.
I managed to write a single special letter when I got back: (2)
“...from camping in Limpopo (the river that separates Botswana and South Africa) and maybe the most beautiful night I have experienced. On the way there we were driving into perhaps the blackest clouds I have ever seen but behind us [the sky] was perfectly clear and the sun was setting so everything was this crazy red-orange against the dark dark storm. We drove like this for probably an hour, so we were deep in the bush and then the rain and a flood came. To be with Batswana people, who haven't seen rain in 7 months for the first real rain of the year sort of blew my mind. Sheer joy, everyone just stood in the mud/flood laughing close to tears. It was the first time I have got to drive here. I thought I was going to explode when all this was happening as a Dire Straits album played.”
I saw the best rainbow.
The journey was not even tainted by the contaminated water we all drank. oops. The seven of us all texting from our respective bathroom locations was (mostly) just silly and bonding.
Bathrooms in Vegas, however, have taken a turn for the worse that I don’t think I was prepared for.
This is what I am told: UB has opted to build a medical school so there is a very large scale construction project right by our housing, the University wanted to negotiate a cheaper bid for the operation, so they said they had an abundance of water that could be used from UB rather than bringing water in, this was a lie. So now all of our water is being used for the construction.
38 degree weather and no running water is not so nice (perhaps you should be reminded that toilets require running water to flush).(3)
I bathe at the pool. My hair is nutz.
I feel a little silly swimming and sunbathing all the time as it is not the cultural norm and a group of Makgowa lounging at the pool always creates quite the ruckus.
Also most of my local friends don’t know how to swim.
I think if anything has made me a bit down trodden of late it is that more and more I am finding that my friends here (non-international friends) can not really do the same activities I do.
When people realize (which doesn’t take long) that I am from the US of A most the time they say something to the likes of “Me! I have never ever crossed a border!”
I think I have invited the whole of Botswana to come to Seattle. Though my invitation is sincere, me and the Batswana both laugh (sort of sadly) about the likelihood of a Washington visit.
Even though the entirety of a night out (I mean dinner, drinks, cover charge, cab end up on MTv South Africa type craziness)(5) runs me about 80 pula (mmm 11 dollars) it is not really a possible expense for the Batswana I spend my time with.
Most of the places they tell me to visit, they have not experienced.
My relationship to poverty feels complicated.
I still find myself in constant debate over whether poverty here can be linked to cultural explanations or is it more the aftermath of colonialism and sustained oppression and isolation. Rachel sent me a New York Times article on this because we are ALWAYS trying to understand the insanity we find here, again and again absolutely beautiful and vile all in one, bedazzled denim, text message craze and a lot a lot of dirt. The article asserted that often cultural explanations of poverty are essentially treated like Lord Voldemort: That Which Must Not Be Named.
And I think that is true, coming from a institution to the likes of Seattle University implying that “culture” is perpetuating poverty,and the idea that attitudes and behavior patterns kept people poor is shunned, or at least very critically examined. But fear of sounding politically incorrect aside, I am finding there is huge value in understanding that to at least some extent “culture and persistent poverty are enmeshed.” What to do with the reality is my next thought experiment.
I should also say we are finding our niches. I have been on a lot more curry pot (cafeteria) dinner outings and hanging out in Vegas or in my room on my cot with Millie and co.
Last night I went out to meet some friends, and when I got to where they said they would be I found them throwing rocks at a sign. I would say our nightly life consists of much more typically Gaborone activities.
That said I am busing off to Zambia tomorrow for an extended pre-finals weekend in Livingstone.
Time is going fast (I think...most the time). I received in the mail a horoscope from Seattle CityWeekly(4):
“Soon it will probably be time for you to wrap up the Season of Exploration. You’ve surveyed the outlands and fringe areas enough for now, right? I’m guessing that you’ve reconnoitered the forbidden zones so thoroughly that you may not need to do any more probing. Or am I wrong about this? Maybe your brushes with exotic creatures and tempting adventures have whetted your appetite for even more escapades. I’ll tell you what, Capricorn; I’m going to trust your intuition on this one.”
Africa has most definitely required more of me trusting my intuition. I take comfort in thinking that however I relate to this craziness, will allow me to be more ready to relate to whatever happens next.
Today I met with Dumelang Saleshando leader of the Botswana Congress Party (BCP). BCP is affiliated with the New Democratic Front and the Social Democratic Party. BCP is Botswana’s moderate party. If this party wins the 2015 elections, Member of Parliment Saleshando will be the Head of State. POTENTIALLY, I met the future president!
The lightening storms are my favorite new thing.
And because of the rain I get to live in my mosquito net!
sorry for such delay, promise to get better.
miss you like whoa.
love love love
Jackie
(1) probably the most scary thing was the rash I got on my foot from the steel-toe boots.
(2) email.Rainbows and Mark Knopfler
(3) I have erYUCK.
(4) Thank you Mr. Andrew Fontana.
(5)I was officially spotted by Monica’s Roommate dancing on MTvZa (MTv South Africa) dancing at a concert I went to at Bull and Bush last friday! Video Vixen indeed.
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