It was on the edge of the lake, formed by a hydro-electric dam, that he saw the diamond prospectors for the first time. They were about twenty-five people, who according to Sucipto were a family group, which included children and old persons. He explained that such a group could glean in a year a couple of carats of gem quality diamonds, which would be cut or sold in the market at Martarpura. Added to those valuable stones would be a few carats of low value industrial diamonds.
With shallow pans, they sifted earth and fine gravel from the water on the banks of the lake. The headman carefully guarded the meagre results of their efforts wrapped in a small piece of cloth in his trouser pocket; the diamonds he showed to Ennis appeared to be nothing more than small pieces of vulgar gravel that could be found on the roadside anywhere.
‘Who are these people?’
‘I told you, diamond prospectors,’ Sucipto replied with a smile.
‘I mean where do they come from?’
‘I don’t know.’
Ennis asked the headman, who spoke a little English.
‘My father lived in the forest over there,’ he said pointing to the bank of the lake in the distance.
The lake was man made and the surrounding hills were known as the barelands. The whole area, hundreds of square kilometres had been deforested and deserted before it was flooded after the construction of the dam.
Ennis looked in the direction where the headman pointed; there was not a single tree.
‘We lived there from the time of our fathers’ fathers and their fathers’ fathers,’ he said. ‘The loggers destroyed our forest and the transmigrants sent by the government burnt our trees to plant rice.’
The old man smiled sadly, showing his blackened broken teeth.
‘We are forest people, you call us Dayaks. We could never leave our ancestral lands, but we could not survive without our forest. The diamond merchants from Martarpura now pay us to prospect in the lake.’
He returned with his head bowed to his family. Their life forever transformed to scraping the soil and panning the gravel in search of the Belandas dreams.
They pushed on; Sucipto promised Ennis a visit to the diamond market on their return. After what he had seen his enthusiasm was dimmed, it was like many things in that country, there was a large gap between dreams and the reality.
The next morning Sucipto and his driver picked Ennis up from the Miramar in the Landcruiser. They left Bandjarmasin in the direction of Martarpura, the weather was already hot and humid, from the appearance of the sky it was unlikely that they would have rain over the next hours. The minibuses, which occasionally passed them at breakneck speed, overtaking the groups of people on foot heading towards the local markets, caused him to close his eyes more than once even though he had become used to the scene.
‘Mr John, you will see some nice diamonds, but they are very expensive.’
‘What’s expensive?’
‘You will see.’
‘Baik.’
The driver parked the Toyota alongside the minibuses waiting in front of the parade of shops opposite a large green. Curious passers-by paused joining the bystanders to stare at the Belanda as he stepped down from the vehicle. They walked down one of the side streets between the vendors of colourful tropical fruits and vegetables squatting by their wares. As they passed, women and girls giggled behind their hands, covering their white powdered faces.
The smell of the overripe and rotten fruit was overpowering, he avoided stepping in the black slimy patches of wet decaying rubbish that was scattered on the roadway. They stepped onto the boardwalk and turned into a street, where a group of men were huddled together in discussion.
Sucipto approached them and speaking in Indonesian asked them to see some diamonds. As if by some special signal, one of the men stepped forward and approached them taking from his pocket a small wad of white tissue paper, which he held in the palm of his hand and commenced to very carefully unfold it.
There were two diamonds each of about half a caret sparkling on the white tissue.
‘Ask him how much,’ he said.
A rapid exchange was followed by a pause, then Sucipto after some further moments of discussion, during which Ennis suspected he was negotiating his commission, turned and announced to with his large toothy smile, ‘Four hundred thousand, Bak.’
It was about one hundred and eighty dollars, which seemed very reasonable for two stones totalling one caret. His knowledge of diamonds limited, he asked to see more. Another seller produced a stone of about one and a half carets, a rather yellow colour.
‘Six hundred thousand Sir,’ he said in English producing a small magnifying glass.
‘No flaws,’ he said thrusting the glass into his hand. ‘Take a look, its very pure.’
The group of onlookers that had gather around for the show was attracting more attention. Ennis feeling uneasy with the gathering crowd and suggested to Sucipto they visit the factory he had talked of.
They left the group, who though a little disappointed, did not pester them. They took the high street in the direction of the bridge that crossed the Martarpura River. They did not cross the bridge instead turned to the left down a steeply sloping side road, which led down to a row of ramshackle wooden buildings along the riverbank.
After about a hundred metres they stopped before a timber godown and entered through a large door. In what was a general office area Sucipto asked for the manager whom he said he knew. Martarpura was his hometown and he knew almost everybody.
The manager arrived, a small, round, moustachioed local, who with a broad smile immediately showed them into the factory area. About thirty or so diamond cutters were working on what looked like old-fashioned gramophone record players. The rotating discs was lubricated with water and an arm with a fine gripping head rested on the turning disc, in the grips were the rough diamond, which was being cut, a simple age-old technique. The stone was repositioned from time to time, to present another facet to be ground on the abrasive disc, which Ennis learnt was coated with diamond powder.
The diamond prospectors brought their stones to the cutting factory either to be sold, or, cut for a price. They were then sold in the local market place or sent to Jakarta. The buyers were mostly Japanese or other foreigners, visiting the forestry concessions operated by their companies in the jungle. Professional gem traders from Holland or Hongkong were also regular customers, the manager explained to them.
He then gave them a quick course on what to buy, the colour, purity and price, showing them a few samples of different stones. It was not easy when faced with such a large choice, but it seemed that the diamond merchants were trustworthy.
With the short lesson, they returned to the market and after a series of negotiations, Ennis bought five thousand dollars worth of diamonds. He would get one mounted in Hongkong for Lily, the others he would keep for the moment. He hoped that he had made a good choice and the diamonds would have a significantly higher value back in civilisation, if it proved to be worthwhile, he thought; it could provide be an amusing little business.
That evening he was invited by Nat Nurimba, once again to the Blue Diamond restaurant, it was by local standards the best, though its prices were extravagant, he enjoyed the food and it was certainly a change from the Miramar’s restaurant.
Mat Nurimba, the director of the Forestry Department, had been given the go ahead from the ministry in Jakarta, for a fourteen million dollar forestry plantation experiment, which would be the forerunner of large scale plantations that were needed for pulp mills.
The standing stock of natural long fibre species was not without limit. Papcon’s forestry specialist, Bernard Clerc, had calculated that the mill could be assured of a continuous supply of plantation wood for a period of about twelve years. The wood from the plantations would then have reached mature. At the same time, the natural wood availability would fall off sharply.
Mat was in a euphoric mood, the experimental plantations were the biggest forestry invest
ment ever for the province, outside of logging operations in the concessions and the plywood mills.
Normally the government services were onlookers and rarely had direct control of business. The only possibility to supplement their meagre incomes was through the money distributed by the generosity of the logging companies for services rendered.
Mat Nurimba would now be giving the orders and handing out money. He had full financial control and he would see to it that he and his friends were well served. Ennis was worried about Mat Nurimba’s managerial skills, he knew a part of the money would disappear, the question was how much, it was certain with Mat Nurimba’s flamboyant character, he would undoubtedly be more than generous.
He had deliberately invited Ennis as a foreigner in a public place, as part of his program to demonstrate his increased importance to local business people and politicians.
‘So, Mr Ennis, I understand that you have made some interesting investments.’
Ennis with a groan reminded himself how impossible it was to keep a secret there.
‘Yes, I have bought some diamonds for my friends.’
‘Good, we have all made some good investments this week. What do you think of the plantation site?’
‘It looks good, it will bring good business to the local economy.’
‘Perhaps you will let the minister know, we have selected a good program and I will make it a success,’ he said pointing energetically at his own chest with his thumb, almost jumping up and down in his chair, wearing a broad and almost threatening smile.
Suddenly he changed his tone and leaned towards Ennis.
‘Whilst we are talking, let me give you some friendly advice Mr John,’ he looked furtively around and lowering his voice he added, ‘not everybody here is your friend, there are many loggers who do not welcome your mill, so please keep a low profile as you say.’
He finished with a loud laugh and a broad smile, attacking the fruit, which had arrived on the table, leaving Ennis suddenly puzzled and disturbed.
ILLEGAL LOGGING
Borneo Pulp Page 29
