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Muzo: Mountain of Green Gold in the Andes
| Article
# : |
11774 |
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Section : |
LIFE
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| Issue
Date : |
4 / 1987 |
1,925 Words |
| Author
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Jane Dolinger
Jane Dolinger is an adventure-travel writer living in Miami,
Florida. She has written for numerous worldwide publications
and is the author of twelve adventure-travel books, including
The Treasure Seekers. Dolinger has produced and narrated three
documentary jungle films for Eurovision (European television)
and has appeared on American television "talk" shows. |
Daring young adventures from all over the world are descending upon the jungles of Colombia hoping to strike it rich in their quest for emeralds - one of the most precious of gems. In the lush wilderness lying in the foothills of the Andes the greatest emerald deposits in the Western Hemisphere are hidden.
The Muzo mine, 160 miles north of Bogota, the capital, was more difficult to enter than sheikh's harem. Day and night, armed Colombian soldiers with orders to shoot anyone caught in the vicinity without credentials guarded the mine, located on the side of a black slate cliff.
Arriving in Bogota, I contacted Senor Jaime Roldan, director of the Banco de la Republica, a government insitution that controlled the emerald deposit, and asked for permission to visit the mine and take photographs. After nearly two months, my request was finally approved. Then, stretching my luck, I inquired whether I might be allowed to search for emaralds. "It could prove an interesting climax to my article," I suggested. The director thought it over for a moment and said it would be up to the superintendent of the Muzo mine. "But don't count on it," he added.
The next morning a chauffeur-driven station wagon picked me up at the Hotel Tequendama, and I was on my way. We traveled along a winding mountain road, edging deeper by the hour into the green wilderness. Jorge Maldonado, my driver, told me about the problems he had encountered returning from his frequent trips to the mine.
"About once a month I visit the Muzo mine to pick up the rough emeralds, which are brought back to the banco for cutting and polishing. Seven times within the past year, I've been held up by bandidos on this road and robbed of the jewels. They simply take the emeralds and disappear into the jungle. That place out there is crawling with soldiers guarding the mine, but they never send anyone with me on my return trip to Bogota! It doesn't make sense!"
About four hours later, we arrived at the end of the road where I was met by the superintendent of the mine, Manuel Silva, a portly gentleman wearing khakis and a pith helmet. We mounted horses and continued the journey down a jungle trail that led to the headquarters of the mine. It was an armed camp. Dozens of soldiers guarded the deposit.
I was given a room in the barracks, with a steelhelmeted Colombian soldier posted in front of my
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