by Darlene Mokrycki

Created on: April 17, 2008   Last Updated: August 07, 2009

Famous for its gemstones, particularly emeralds, Cartagena, Colombia is a city of mystique and intrigue. Desiring an exotic vacation destination, my girlfriend Angy and I decided to visit Cartagena. I wanted an emerald for myself, and a friend, Bernd, wanted one for his wife, Judy for her May birthday. In addition to exploring the city and the surrounding islands, our mission became purchasing good stones at reasonable prices.

Before the trip, Angy and I envisioned ourselves as prima-gemologists, spending hours in the library pouring over information on valuing emeralds. Emeralds, by nature, have inclusions or fissures within them. These inclusions are remnants of an ancient salt-water sea that existed in the place where emeralds form. They are comprised of salt crystals, gasses, and even tiny pockets of salt water. Colors range from light to deep green, often with a bluish cast. The deepest colors are the most desirable.

Upon our arrival, we checked into the hotel, threw our bags into our room, and headed for the pool area where we sampled a local fruity cocktail. We had just settled into our lounge chairs, when Paolo, our tour guide, stopped by to ask how we were enjoying Cartagena. Paolo was a New York educated, young Colombian man who had returned to the city to care for his grandmother.

Angy pummeled Paolo with tons of questions about the area, and of course, the inevitable question, "Where could we buy good emeralds." She told him we wanted to see the "real" Cartagena, the parts the natives enjoy. Next evening, he took us to his grandmother's house in a distant part of the city. This was the home of someone not suffering for lack of money, but not pretentious either. Paolo walked us a few blocks deeper into the city. Each block was increasingly poorer than the one before it, until we arrived at a neighborhood consisting of rows of "shacks." A musky aroma permeated the neighborhood, a not-altogether unpleasant scent, reminiscent of leather.

I am 5'2" tall. Of the three of us, I was the only one who did not have to duck to enter the hut that Paulo brought us to. Inside was a single room with a dirt floor containing two twin-sized beds, and with a hibachi on the floor. A lone pull-chain light bulb illuminated the room and the faces within it. My eyes immediately fell upon a 65-ish white-haired woman. Her husband, eyes peering at us through furrowed bronze skin stood with two young adults husband and wife tending to two naked babies squirming on one of the beds. Paul and the old woman exchanged a few words in Spanish, and the woman disappeared from the room through a back entrance. She returned with a felt bag full of stones and a jeweler's loop. We examined the stones carefully. They were of good quality, clarity and color, so we made our purchases. One stone sold for $400, the other for $125. We thanked the woman and left. Paulo escorted us to the local bullring where there was a music festival. He introduced us to his friends, and we danced the night and the week, away.

Back in the States, Bernd broke into a pleased grin when he saw his emerald, and Judy burst into tears when he gave her the ring he designed around it for her. I was very pleased with myself, thinking about the written appraisals I secreted in my desk of $875 and $350 for the stones. Mission accomplished!

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