Every Friday I go to the bazar that sets up between camp and
the embassy. Its filled with very
aggressive (but vetted?) Afghan vendors selling all kinds of stuff; rugs, furs, counterfeit
watches, counterfeit guns, counterfeit everything else. (I got my “authentic”
North Face jacket there) and of course gems and jewelry. It’s not a place for the faint of heart. You
have to know what you want and not feel guilty about lowballing them to 25% of
their asking price. Many camp ladies
join me as I keep the wolves at bay. I
visit Ramanullah to see the latest jewels that he picked out “especially for me”. “Brother, it is good to see you again. I have some nice emeralds and rubies for you
or maybe some blue tourmaline?” as he escorts me behind the table to a “special”
broken folding chair while his chai boy gets me some extra sweet tea. He knows I need a loop and a light to check
his haul, and he obliges. I look though
the fist sized pile of stones in front of me, while others stare at me as I
begin to spin myself up to negotiate a price for a stone. The back and forth is endless. Finally, we settle on $7 a carat for the rubies
(colored no doubt) and $26 per carat for the emeralds. A pretty good morning of haggling. I’m
exhausted.
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