“I know this guy, he has a diamond”

Okay, so our landlord (Edgar) called me last week and said he needed to talk business and that he’d be waiting for us in the intersection outside of village in 15. Right away I’m thinking he’s going to raise the rent or something. So we head over there and end up waiting half an hour for him to show up (Guatemala time).

Anyway, he shows up and tells us that a guy who works for him claims to have found a diamond and is keeping it hidden, wrapped up in old newspapers in his house. He trusts Edgar and wants to know what to do with it. So of course, Edgar says something along the lines of “man, I don’t know, but I know this Gringo! I’ll ask him” and here we are. Being a gringo in Guatemala apparently makes you a diamond expert?

Edgar thinks it might be from some ruins in the jungle nearby that people occasionally pillage and/or excavate, depending on the party interested. But who knows; there’s all kinds of shady stuff taking place along the border.

So of course I’m going (try) to do it. Just need to figure out how to tell the difference between a zircon and a diamond, right? It’s probably fake anyway…

Sometimes my life feels like a grocery store novel.

 

 

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