bada bling, bada boom
October 5
The French are glad to die for love.
They delight in fighting duels.
But I prefer a man who lives
And gives expensive jewels.
A kiss on the hand
May be quite continental,
But diamonds are a girl's best friend.
Indeed, you may think these to be my own words, dear reader.
You may imagine me a creature of greedy hands extended,
grasping fingers grabbing with avarice anything that sparkles with the illustrious and luminous energy of that most fabulous of God's creations,
The Diamond.
But alas, you would be incorrect..
For indeed, while I do faun at the feet of the magnificent stone,
mesmerized by it's fiery brilliance,
I have come to see it as a warning,
a betrayal.
Indeed, for me, it is The Judas kiss.
My epiphany came when I was living in Balikpapan, sprawling seaport city on the eastern coast of Borneo in the East Kalimantan province of Indonesia.
The land was ripe with resources and the city of Balikpapan did a rich trade in gold, one of the many assets in abundance there, and one which my husband, and indeed many other sturdy men, were employed to extract, treat and process into gold bars, deep in the steamy heart of the Bornean jungle.
For many of these men it was an adventure to another world.
Indeed, in all respects, these men were strangers in a strange land, a land still languishing in a time forgotten by the rest of the world.
Prior to 1991 and the intervention of Rio Tinto, the indiginous jungle folk had been living an existence tribal and primitive, nestled comfortably in their traditional activities; hunting wild bears and pig, smearing the fat of these cooked animals on themselves of an evening and spearing the heads of errant Javanese on the borders of their territory.
I kid you not, dear reader; these were the original Dyak headhunters, the proverbial Wild Men of Borneo.
When my husband arrived there in 1991 at the very commissioning of the mine, speaking not a word of Indonesian, his workers speaking no English, it was a glorious pantomime.
Yet, gold was mined, bars were poured and slowly but surely the language barrier was broken. In all that time, however, the orang puti retained the incredible enigma of wonderful strangers, perhaps even demi gods.
At least, that's what some of them thought..
And, away from their wives, most only a helicopter journey away, they began to believe in their own magic.
It was a curious phenomenon.
Separated from their families, these men began to wear new hats; holding hands with local girls in the jungle bar, falling in love, some even enjoying elaborate matrimonial ceremonies with their jungle love, starting families with them, all the while maintaining the visage of intrepid husband and father to the people at home.
Other men spread their favours, lavishing their love on a multitude of local women, sharing their seed with those that considered them divine while providing the community, inevitably, with a whole arrangement of ill-conceived offspring.
And, simultaneously, there began a new trade in Balikpapan.
While the soft yellow metal never lost it's popularity, it was evident that all that glittered was not gold and there soon began a trade in something more sparkling, more substantial.
Diamonds.
More specifically, Diamond Rings.
Big ones.
And it seemed there was a pre-requisite to receiving one as a gift.
Over a bottle of wine, a few of us came to a sad conclusion.
There was a glittering prize for being the wife of a cheater.
It was big and sparkling and glimmered on the hand like a fire divine.
It emerged as enigmatically on the fingers as the gossip did on the lips.
Oh and what a sad indictment it was.
Yet, even more pitiful, it appeared the recipients were oblivious to the deception; flaunting their prize at morning tea, flashing their sparkler at lunch, their booty a blatant and wretched advertisement of a wrongful exchange, the juice all over town by dinner time.
It was a Judas Kiss, to be sure.
Yet, if I knew, why didn't they?
How could they not know, given the well oiled machinery of bitchy expat gossip?
I think perhaps they did.
I suspect they had resigned themselves to a fate made marginally better by the lubrication of trinkets and payoffs.
And good luck to them.
I, for one, was happy never to have been given the diamond ring while I was there.
Which is a good thing.
For I can't be bought.
Then again, I can afford to be smug.
I'm lucky enough to be married to one of the good guys. They're few and far between I hear; they don't mess around, they don't imagine themselves divine and they don't hold hands in jungle bars.
More importantly, they don't come bearing gifts of the glittering kind.
And they had better not.
For that, to me, would be The Judas Kiss.
And that kiss on the cheek
would be quite detrimental,
for all that glitters is not gold,
nor diamonds for that matter...
bada bling?
bada BOOM!
the domestic minx | Comments Off | 

















Reader Comments (32)
Ma Minx. A Fantastic post which touched a nerve with me. I have often wondered why we put such value on gold and gems.
Whilst beautiful they do seem to cause so much pain and suffering.
We give diamonds as gifts and yet they become so precious that people kill steal and cheat to get their grubby little mits on them. When people divorce they want the ring back and fight tooth and nail for the damn thing.
We all know someone who has lost a diamond ring and we are expected to console them like they have lost a child. Why, its a ring for F***s sake! The loss is unbearable. A bit like Golam in Bored of the Rings.
Your story shows how the deception of the human heart, can be glossed over or even made right with a diamond, set in gold no doubt.
In my case, the diamonds I come into contact with are conflict diamonds. The term blood diamonds is a little crude for sensitive politicians. The trade in these diamonds is denounced and denied, but yet continues.
Nothing like trading a glittering stone for a landmine to blow a kids legs off or some ammo for a heavy machine gun.
Still, that's OK because these kids are only nameless little African kids who would probably die anyway. Oh and of course these diamonds usually end up on the fingers of rich people who wont have to watch the child die of infection due to its injuries. Of course if the kid get really lucky it will just bleed to death which is a lot quicker. Not more pleasant but quicker.
Sorry to sound like a loon but I did say it touched a nerve. Have a great weekend, I will be in my padded cell.
Your loving Uncle
Norman
XXX
Oh darling Norman,
It is sad indeed how much emphasis we place on something which often springs from such pain.
I watched Blood Diamonds with horror and quietly denounced the ring on my finger, wondering where it had come from and what the cost had been.
I cannot possibly trade in something that has been so cruelly bought.
You have seen this with your own eyes.
I'm glad I haven't had to, yet I know it exists and I cannot pretend it doesn't.
While this is horrifying enough, it is only one of the reasons I don't want the diamond.
I am a little sickened by the shit that accompanies the giving of such a gift. It is laden with the type of triteness and tired innuendo that nauseates me with it's lack of imagination.
People hold such stock in cliche.
I look between the lines.
I am sickened by what I see sometimes.
You are a beautiful man x
xox
While I love all that is glitter and gold, or sparkle and how the feeling those gems on my body make me feel like a princess. I love to feel a princess as much as the next girl IF NOT MORE.. BUT, this post really touched me. I will never look at diamonds the same way ever.
(no need for a padded cell my dear)
Dearest Minx
"For I can't be bought.
Then again, I can afford to be smug."
You've dolloped out a lot of beautiful prose in the short time I have been a loyal fan, but this may be my favorite yet.
SA
I have two diamonds, although they're far from large and anything but ostentatious. My husband gave them to me for our engagement and I enjoy them. I count him as one of the very "good ones" as well. I'll have to ask him if he's been in a jungle bar holding hands with a girl who isn't me.
Excellent post, Minx, and as always I am intrigued by your life experiences!
As far as diamonds, I am not a fan, nor are any of the women in my immediate family. shrug My recently-engaged daughter has such disgust over the diamond industry that she refused to have one in her engagement ring and is instead wearing a lovely family heirloom that once graced the hand of her fiance's great-grandmother: a perfect, lovely pearl.
xoxoxo
Rapunzel
I love the feel of glitter too, Meleah darling..
I love the feel of delicious diamonds and fabulous frippery...
but my experiences of the payoff they represented filled me with horror and sadness at the tired cliche they had assumed..
I was further revolted zfter watching the miserable and relatively untold story of how these blood diamonds come to the market.
I feel ill at the thought of wearing something that may have cost someone their life.
Which is not to say I don't like the little beauties.
Just what they represent...
xox
Dearest SA,
I do love to be smug. It doesn't happen very often..
I luxuriate in it's fleetingness..
Thank you for appreciating my dollops, darling.
Indeed, I am honoured, for you are smug and snarky and sensational in delicious amounts, and I love it.
xox
Kellypea darling,
I too am not diamond laden. Although I appreciate them I am a little too action oriented and busy with my hands to be worried about what's adorning them...
The only diamonds bought in Balikpapan were those I purchased myself...
The diamond ring thing has become such a cliche and such a joke between my husband and I that I feel it improper, and silly, to ever look at one seriously now...even the delicious, conflict free Argyle diamonds from northern Australia..
xox
Oh Rapunzel, I think that is beautiful!!
Not only from a moral and social perspective, but because it honours your family in a tangible and beautiful way.
I applaud her decision!
I shrug too...
There are other things more valuable, aren't there...
xox
What a story! I imagine this happens a lot and yes you are one of the lucky one's. I would feel the same way about a diamond ring if I hadn't already hated the diamond industry/cartel.
It's horrid when you love the look of something but despise the history of it (like fur).
Ah, diamonds.
I'm not a fan. Not a fan of the history or the misery or the illusion. What a sad, sad tale.
...and if that diamond ring don't shine...
I'd rather spend my money on joyful experience than on pretty lies.
xoxo
Mistress M
Veeery interesting.
I own no jewellery except for cheap earrings from markets. I refused an engagement ring (not my thing) and had our wedding rings made out of aircraft grade titanium. I have always suspected jewellery of extreme evil and never considered the receiving of it flattering at all. My husband gave me earrings and necklaces when we first met but he would never do so now that he knows me better.
Again, veeery interesting.
I would like to go to a jungle bar though - it sounds so refreshing!
having remained diamond free,, accept thos that i have purchased for myself,, has not been a thing of choice for em... but i am not all of that interested in expensive ornamentation... a sparkling wit and glowing persona are always more beautiful to me.. and i have found them both in you!!
Despite being an aristocratic lord, I do not own one single diamond.
I know what REALLY is a girl's best friend, and mine is far larger than any gemstone.
xx
Ah Jafabrit,
It is sad indeed that some of the most beautiful things are simply a beautiful veneer for a conspiracy of evil.
The things you mention that I too love the look and feel of; diamonds and fur, are imbued with such an evil and wretched history that I feel hard to feel comfortable with them...
Indeed it is hardly a glittering trace...
I have been very lucky.
I would rather that than all the ornamentation in the world.
xox
You are the one that is interesting, Amelia.
Veeery interesting, intriguing and beautiful.
Your choices are amazing.
As you are.
Well done, girl!
xox
Oh Margot,
It is a sad tale...and one that's gone on wherever I've been.
It is delusion indeed.
Such a pretty, pretty lie.
I live too for the brilliant experience, the joyful moments..
Diamond ring? Puh!!
Give me the open road and put the sparkle on my face, not on my finger!!
xox
Yes Paisley,
Expensive ornamentation is not my style.
While I have often admired it, it simply is not my cup of tea.
I would rather the sparkling wit and charm to be in human form, like you dear friend.
Not as easily bought, and infinitely more valuable.
xox
Indeed, dear Likely,
Lord Palmerston is worthy of a King's ransom!!
I can well imagine some of the gifts he has bestowed, but I won't go into detail about those intricate necklaces, of course...
xox