Chapter 8: Puddles and Mud

(This chapter is from part 3 of Tales from the Road: The Subcontinent. It is about our time in Ratnapura, the gem capital of Sri Lanka. You can find the book on Amazon Kindle.)

March 2018, Ratnapura

Ten days of March had passed and we had made it to Ratnapura, a small town in the highlands, just south of Adam’s Peak. It was another long bus journey involving one change, through mountainous terrain of Sri Lanka. We had a chance encounter with an elephant on the way before we made it into this Gem Town. Ratnapura does not offer much in terms of tourism, but it is the most popular destination in Sri Lanka for those interested in gems and minerals. The town came to prominence due to abundance of precious and semi-precious stones it hosts, notably, Sapphires, Rubies, Spinels and Garnets. We had heard about this town from John Pascal back in Kerala. And we had arrived here with a lot of eagerness.

Like imagined, Ratnapura is a sleepy little town in a green hilly area. The days are mostly overcast and constant drizzle adds to the muddy river branches. Fertile soil means vegetation is diverse and dense. Those who come with a sole intention of buying polished stones head straight to the Gem Street near the market area. There are varieties of shops to choose to haggle in. Apart from the shops, there are determined hustlers roaming the street trying to sell a Ruby or a Sapphire.

We had put ourselves up at the Gem Hotel, a well reputed guesthouse on Booking.com, which hosts a small gem museum. The owner of the place also owned three mines in nearby area and had a shop on the Gem Street. His son, Kasun, who lived in Australia, had returned here. Apart from us, there was another couple from Italy, Erika and Lorenzo. They were macramé-makers and had come here to buy some stones for their jewelry business. We took it slow on the first day. In the evening I played cricket in the front yard with Kasun, his younger brother and a young fellow who worked for their father. It came as a least expected gift from this town. Then after the game, Kasun’s father turned on all the display lights in the small museum. We all went through his collection with wide eyes. Then, having our dinner at one of the simple restaurants near the market, we called it a night.

Next day, we rose up early and bought some fruits from the market. Fruits becoming our breakfast, we set off with the Italian couple towards an area tipped by Kasun as having some mining activity. The Italian guy led the way using mapsme, taking us across the main street and then into a narrow, shadowy street along the river. After walking a couple of kilometers along the river in a hazy, cool morning, we heard a sound of motor and came to pause.

“I think this is it,” said Erika.

From between the tall palm trees, we could make out a shape of some machinery built on top of a well. A few men stood around it, observing the proceedings, as water came gushing out of a broad pipe. Not far from the well lay piles of extracted sand. It looked like they had already scanned through it using the round strainers that were scattered over those piles. As we stepped closer, the attention of the men fell upon us and their concentrated, tense faces broke into welcoming smiles.

“Hello, hello,” the oldest of the lot announced. “Welcome!”

“You taking some nice gems out?” asked Lorenzo as he stepped to the well and looked down. We all followed his suit. Thick ropes from a pulley at the edge went down into the dark depths of the well. We could make out two dim lights quite a way down. The two men working in the depths shouted out the directions as the crew continued to lower the ropes.

The man gave a hearty laugh. Then turning around, he pointed towards the muddy river that ran behind the mango trees. “Maybe you can find some gems there. My men working.”

We went through the trees and came upon the river. It was a bit of fall from ground and we proceeded carefully on a slippery trail that led us to the water’s edge. In knee deep water along the river’s edge, half a dozen men worked with long shovels made of bamboo and metal. They had segregated a part of the river using vertical partitions made of wood and mesh of palm leaves. As they pulled the sand of the river bed to the center, three men worked with their hands, lifting fistfuls of sand and searching for gems. On a flat rock on this side, lay a basket that contained day’s find. It contained stones of varied colors and sizes; all of them tumbled round by the river. One of the guys halted his work and jumped on the flat rock. Then stooping low, he picked a few stones and gave us each for closer look. Using sign language, he told us to hold the stones against the sun. I had seen stones revealing true colors on top of laser or torch lights, but had never seen stones that revealed colors so easily, just by natural sunlight, that too here in a misty sky. Probably, these did not have many impurities within and had reached a gem stage just by a natural process. We all exchanged stones in our hands, until each one had seen each one and then dropped them back in the basket. The man then beckoned us forward, to step in the river and join their work. We each had a turn at those long bamboo shovels, a task that was much more difficult than it looked. And then we moved on to a more fun one, of picking fistful of sand and scavenging for gems. The muddy river gushed around us with a brisk flow, while we kept stooping low and picking more fistfuls. Within half an hour though, we began to feel our lower backs stiff. Gabriela and Erika found a few Garnets and Spinels, which the men allowed them to keep. Then thanking them for their hospitality, we climbed back out of the water and up the slippery trail. Passing by the well again, we thanked the men there too before setting off in search of something new.

“Where to now?” I asked.

“Kasun told me there is temple around that side,” replied the Italian. “I have marked it on my phone. He said we might find more mining activity, but if not, the walk is nice. And we can check out the temple.”

Once back on track, we continued on the narrow street further down along the river. We walked past a few houses among tropical trees. At one such house, we could hear the sound of motor somewhere from behind. But the front gate was closed and we did not venture in. Instead, we continued along the river, passing vegetable patches every now and then. Fallen tamarinds, mangoes and guavas were a common sight. Birds chirped around us through green boughs. The sky was still hazy and the sun looked like a benign ball of gold. We were never too far from the river and could always hear it chuckle somewhere to the right.

When we went past a small temple, the Italian slowed down. Then checking his phone, he led us on a trail off the main street to the right. It led us through fresh grass with dew, before rising up suddenly to join a staircase. The staircase led us to a narrow footbridge, made of sturdy material. The bridge led us high over the muddy waters. As we walked on it, it swayed gently, setting off bombs in our bellies. The wind was stronger on the bridge. We stopped at the center of the bridge for the view.

There was dense green land on either side of the wide river branch. In that green, rose rooftops of houses or temples. From here we could see two more spots where miners were in action in knee-deep waters. But we were satisfied with one experience. Now, we were enjoying the walk itself and wanted to explore more of the unknown.

We continued on the bridge and crossed to the other side, where another staircase led us down to the ground level. From here, a winding dirt track led us through the palms first and then through mangoes, before we came into an opening. We had come to the temple, but from the back side. There were more houses here and slightly more activity around, but still there was no noise or hurry. We stepped into the temple premise through one of the entrances. It was predominantly made of white walls and roofs of dark wood. The color combination followed in all the sub-structures of the complex, including the boundary wall. We offered our prayers at the first shrine and then walked past an oil lamp stand, to a long hallway reachable on a stone staircase. The hallway led us into another courtyard, in the center of which stood the main shrine under the shadow of a tree. The simplicity of the exterior did not match the interiors of the shrine, which were made of shiny statues and complex and colorful imagery along the walls. The smell of oil lamps and incense sticks was thick in the air while we offered our prayers.

Then coming back to the hallway, we walked back to the staircase, and sat down on the steps. Relatively high elevation gave us a decent view of the area in the front; of the empty ground of the temple premise and of the green country beyond its walls. We could make out more dark rooftops among the trees. From some spots, smoke rose to the air, adding to an already present mist. A straight road led from the main entrance of the temple premise, lined by palms, to a green hill in the distant. As I looked up, a drop fell on my glasses. And then another fell on my nose.

“It’s gonna start raining…we better go,” said Erika, also feeling the drops on her palms. “Let’s find something to eat.”

The rain picked up in no time, making us run. We hurried down the steps and then out the main entrance. Just a bit further on the straight street we found a simple shack serving food. When we stepped inside, we were partially wet.

The shack was similar to those in India, the ones serving simple rice plate and chai. The big tea pot under the extended roof was steaming. From within the tiny kitchen behind the metal partition, fumes of garlic and ginger flowed out. As we settled down at a table, the woman owner took our order of four rice plates. Again, the food was basic, but the quantity was generous. The price was equivalent of a coke. While we ate, the rain continued to pick up. By the time we had finished, it was in full force. From the metal roof overhead, water fell in plenty, creating puddles just outside the restaurant. There was no more traffic on the street now as everyone had taken shelter somewhere. After our meal, we sat in silence and sipped on our tea, waiting, while rain came down with a thunderous sound.

It took about an hour before the rain let off. When it was just back to a drizzle, we set off again, through the puddles and mud, back the way we had come from.

By the time we made it back to the hotel, we had covered quite a lot of ground on foot. We were all weary and wet. After showers, we all gathered back in the common room. There were some newcomers too. A French guy called Cedric and a couple of German girls. The girls mostly kept it to themselves, but Cedric joined us at the center table in the common room. He told us about his journey so far, which was long and adventurous one and included about a yearlong work in New Zealand. He had also recently done Vipassana in Sri Lanka. Gabriela was keen to know more about it, as she had registered for 10 days Vipassana in Kandy, which was due to start in four days. Then Kasun joined the table too, having finished his day’s chores. His younger brother sat not far from us, pondering over a pile of Legos. We saw his mother a few times, going in and out of the main kitchen, directing orders to the helpers. Outside, it was still drizzling. Inside, was dry and warm. With Kasun’s help, we ordered some food and remained in our spots.

By the time food arrived, rain had picked up more. While we ate, Kasun told us about their mines and family business. He gave us some tips on what to look for when buying a precious stone. About the 4 C’s: Carat, Color, Clarity and Cut. He also told us about how heating is rampant in gem market, as a means to enhance the colors of the stones. And also how the price of a stone is so subjective and might go from a couple dollars to hundreds of dollars, depending on where and when you buy. When we finished our dinner, the host produced a silver briefcase from under the center table. He silently opened it and looked at everyone. With relentless rain falling outside, this was the right thing to do. A Poker Night!

The next day continued to be overcast, but the rain had let up. Most of the surfaces of the streets had dried up, although there were many holes with water logged. After another breakfast of fruits, we set off on foot again, with the Italian couple and the Frenchman. This time, we took another road to the market that went through a residential area of the town.  It was much quieter and pleasant to walk on, than the main street. We walked at a moderate pace, observing the houses and shadowy boughs above. The fallen yellow leaves made for a bed on the street, with younger green ones replacing them on the trees. Every now and then, birds gave sharp cries through the branches.

“You know, I just don’t know how to haggle,” said Gabriela, resuming the conversation we had let off during the breakfast. “Like, I am sure, I have overpaid for most of my stones.”

“You have to haggle, that’s the only way,” Erika replied, matter-of-factly. She had been doing jewelry since a few years. During her travels, she would buy stones from different places and bring them to Europe to sell. She had a strong business mind. “Like look,” she continued while producing a small zip-lock bag from her purse. “This stone, we bought here on our first day. Just random guy on the street.” It was a blue crystal of Sapphire. It was of a perfect shape and unbroken. “The man told me two hundred dollars. I told him I was poor too. Just because I am white, does not mean I have money. Then I told him I am into jewelry business and not really uh, uh, end customer, you know?”

“So how much did you buy for it?” asked Gabriela, studying the stone.

“Twenty dollars,” she replied shrugging her shoulders. “To be honest, normally I don’t pay more than ten dollars for a stone. But this one is the best I’ve seen so far. I wanted it immediately!”

“It is a nice stone!” Cedric replied, with stone in his hands now.

“So remember! Don’t pay more than 20 dollars for one stone,” the Italian affirmed.

“I don’t know much about stones guys,” Cedric added. “So I am just gonna stay quiet and observe your skills at the market.”

As we got closer to the market, the activity increased. The shadowy street led us out into an open, wide street that saw moderate traffic. Fruit and vegetable sellers were out, under their umbrellas, keeping a couple feet away from the roadside puddles. The restaurants and shops were open too, and fairly busy at this hour. Crossing the main street and squeezing through a small alley, we came upon the Gem Street. Here, the atmosphere was different. The shops were just getting started and customers were yet to come. But all the street sellers were out and about. And as soon as they saw the flash of white, they darted towards us. In no time, we were surrounded by half a dozen men, producing from their pockets folded papers containing gems. The westerners got most of the bombarding while I was left alone most of the time. We did take look at the stones, but shook our heads politely, sending them away disappointed. Then we checked out a couple of shops, the owners of which seemed opportunistic and not trustworthy. All the gems we looked at were stunning, but prices were nowhere near our budget.

“I think we should check out Kasun’s shop,” said Gabriela to the group as we came out of the third shop, unsatisfied. “His father seemed reliable.”

“Maybe you can go there. We still want to check out more shops. We already went to his shop too, on the first day,” Lorenzo replied and we nodded. “Let’s meet outside this shop in about hour.”

The Frenchman joined the Italian couple, while Gabriela and I checked the address of Rohan Gems. It was just half a dozen shops away. The shop was in a two storied building, advertised by a recently painted hoarding. A small door led through a dark alley to the cutting shop at the ground floor. At this time, old men on a dozen chairs worked with their tools and machines, faceting the gems from earth. A stairway led to the second level, which hosted an air conditioned office. Inside, Kasun’s father, Rohan, sat on his chair observing a stone through a lens. We knocked on the door before entering.

“Oh! Come on in. Welcome to my shop,” Rohan announced.

As we stepped in, we looked around at the shelves surrounding us. Behind glass shield, lay some of Rohan’s most priced collections, “Not For Sale”. One such was a Quartz crystal of about two kilos, with a water bubble of about two inches, trapped within. Considering millions of years spent on creation of this crystal, the water bubble must have been inside at least a million years, which was mind-boggling.

After we had scanned through the shelves, we sat down in front of him and asked him to show us small natural crystals of sapphires. He put a velvet tray in front of us and produced small pouches from a drawer of his desk. Then one by one he began pouring them in small piles. And then he turned on the small hanging lights over our heads. The tray now hosted piles of colorful gems of Sri Lanka, shining bright. All the stones were very small, about a centimeter or less. But they showed varied arrays of colors, all in their natural state, uncut, unpolished. There were three piles of Sapphires, the most priced Blue, Yellow and Purple. There was a pile of Rubies and also a pile each for pieces of Spinels and Garnets from the river.

Both of us began scanning the stones one by one. We mostly picked Sapphire crystals which were in perfect, unbroken, natural state. We also chose those with the deepest blue. In the end we had selected fair bit of Sapphires of all shades, a few Garnets and Spinels. Then as Rohan weighed them, we waited with great anticipation. When the price bomb fell, it fell hard.

“I am sorry Rohan, but we cannot afford this much,” I told him honestly.

“Some of these are much more expensive than others, like this one,” he replied, holding up our best pick, which was the deepest blue Sapphire of the best shape. It was also the biggest. “Only this is half of total.”

“Ah!”

We were small time players for the gem market. What we had to offer to Ratnapura, was mere change. We re-scanned our selection, and took out most expensive pieces, while still keeping a couple of them. In the end total price was one tenth of the original and we still had a small bag full of gems.

We left Rohan Gems, fairly satisfied. As agreed, we met the others at the shop where we had parted. The Italian couple had bought a few too. While we strolled along the street, the sky overhead had gotten darker. There was a thunder somewhere and the rain began like a daily routine. It was still a drizzle, but we increased our pace. We passed through the gazes of the hustlers. The rain kept them at bay, as they remained under extended roofs of the shops, smoking cigarettes. One of them didn’t mind the rain though. He approached us with a friendly hello and began to chat, while walking alongside us. He asked about our nationalities and our time in Sri Lanka. When the rain picked up more, we all took a refuge under the roof of a posh gem store. The Italian couple took the opportunity to use the washrooms within, while we waited at the door with Cedric and the seller. After he had chatted with us enough, he finally produced the folded papers. He didn’t have much to offer. He had two blue Sapphire crystals, similar to those we had let go off at Rohan’s. As we observed them, he announced the price in an undertone. If he was really offering us a good deal or was pretending that, we couldn’t tell. We stayed firm, expressing our budget constraints. He remained there still. After about five minutes he dropped the price a bit.

“Still not helping man,” I told him apologetically. “We don’t have a lot of money. But these are amazing stones, maybe you will find someone else and get even better price.”

He nodded and folded the papers back. And just as he was about to put them back in his pocket, he stopped and looked at Cedric, who was observing an advertisement pamphlet pasted on the shop door. He dropped his voice even lower and whispered. “If you buy both, I give you half price.”

We looked at each other and calculated. That was a good deal. The crystals would be much cheaper than what we had paid at Rohan’s. We nodded.

“Please don’t tell your friends the real price,” he whispered again as the gems and the money exchanged hands.

The Italian couple was still inside and the Frenchman joined them within too. They were looking at some cut and polished pieces that the store had to offer. We remained outside with the Sri Lankan. After chatting about cricket and Bollywood, he produced another folded paper.

“Man, what you got there? I thought you only had two stones.” I told him as he opened the paper carefully. Within was the most stunning piece I had ever seen. It was a cluster of olive green square crystals, growing over yellowish shiny matrix. It shone even without the sunlight, dazzling as it moved.

“Is that Demantoid Garnet!?” Gabriela exclaimed.

A wide smile crept on the hustler’s face. “So you know. Very rare. More rare than Sapphire!”

“But it’s not from here right?”

“No, I smuggle from Africa.”

That natural cluster had some hypnotic property. It was hard to let go off, once picked up. I kept observing it from each angle, still finding something new to marvel at. It wasn’t a big piece, of about two centimeters, but even an amateur like me could tell it wasn’t something you see every day.

“How much?” asked Gabriela.

“For you two hundred!”

“Rupees?”

He laughed. “No. Dollars!”

Gabriela placed the stone back on the paper and folding it carefully handed it back to the hustler. The fellow put his hands up.

“No, no! Is very good price, it is cheap,” he said. “Outside much more expensive.”

“I am sure it’s good price, but it’s impossible for us.” Gabriela told him. By now, the Italian couple had arrived back outside with Cedric. The rain had stopped too. They told us that they were about to meet one guy from whom they had bought on the first day. We had exhausted our budget already and our energy too. Cedric was still enthusiastic enough to join them as an observer. We waved the trio goodbye and began to walk back towards our hotel. About a hundred meters on, we heard a shout and looked back. It was the same man running towards us. He came to a halt in front of us, short of breath.

“I know,” he said through his heavy breaths. “You like the stone. I give you very good price.”

Without any ado, he blurted out the final price. It was an offer Gabriela could not refuse. The man himself seemed satisfied too, although not overly happy. But he had done enough for the day. Waving us goodbye, he strolled back towards the market, with hands in his pocket.

“Well, we exceeded the budget,” said Gabriela, with guilt in her voice. But there was excitement and happiness on her face. “I love that one so much! I can’t wait to go back to our room and check it with mobile light.”

“I think we did well,” I told her.

Our time in Ratnapura was almost over. We still had half a day left, but we were planning to spend most of it in the guesthouse. We would be heading to Kandy after breakfast the next day. There, after a day together, Gabriela would be joining her 10 days Vipassana. And then just a couple of days after that, we had a flight back to India. In a way, our ‘travel’ in Sri Lanka was over. And while we had come to Ratnapura mainly for gems, it had given us more than that. In spite of the rain and the overcast weather, our short stay here had been quite pleasant. We only wished we had planned more time for this town. We were sure though that we would return.

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