"Still" by Gwendolyn Joyce Mintz
Rana, my Bangladeshi friend from Oklahoma, kept driving toward our final destination—the Crater of Diamonds mine in Arkansas. I looked at my watch—it was 5:00p.m. “I’ve never been in a mine before, you know?” I said from the back seat.
“Me neither, ha ha,” Rana’s laughter filled the air inside the car.
Omar, my husband, sat in the passenger seat. “You’re wasting so much of my time!” he said.
“It’s good to get away from work sometimes, Brother,” Rana replied, keeping his voice calm, although I sensed sarcasm.
“At least you can talk in Bangla on this trip,” I said to Omar. I knew he wouldn’t show his annoyance in front of a non-Bangladeshi. But with Rana, he was open with his frustration.
The HW7 twisted and turned over the mountains as we continued our drive. I could see small lakes, tall trees, and some evergreens blending with the yellow-orange of other seasonal trees. The mountains with touches of fall palette and the many rivers and lakes truly make Arkansas “The Natural State.” I couldn’t take my eyes off of the scenery. We were so absorbed in the moment, both Rana and I lost track of time.
“It’s almost close to 6:30 p.m., according to the map, the diamond mine shouldn’t be this far on Highway 7,” I said.
Rana sensed the panic in my voice. “Hmmm.. It looks like I drove too far,”
“It’s getting darker, Oh no, we may not be able to see the mine!” I said as I put my head between the front two seats of the car.
Rana looked at me for a split second and then made a u-turn, “I think we’ll be ok.”
By the time we arrived at the mine, it was 7:45 p.m.
The night put a spell of silence on the surroundings—the street lights struggled to illuminate small patches of the ground. I did not remember the closing time from the brochure, but the darkness assured that the mine was closed. I kept my head down and stood beside our parked car. Only a small sigh came out of my throat. We walked to the mine entrance and stood in front of the closed gate: a large “Closed” sign hung on the gate.
“We came a long way from Oklahoma and aren’t just going to leave!” Rana looked at me and said.
A few moments passed by, I looked at him; “Okay, what to do then?”
I followed Rana and we began walking toward the park ranger’s home.
Omar stopped, turned his head toward me, “You and your crazy trips,” he said. I
ignored his comments and continued walking. The three of us came close to a wooden cottage, stepped on the front steps to the porch. I took a deep breath. Rana and I knocked on the door together.
Someone slightly lifted the curtain of the side window and looked at us from inside. In the dim light of the porch, I couldn’t see the person’s face. A few moments later, a tall man opened the front door, “I’m the park ranger. May I help you?” he asked in a coarse voice. I looked at him, his robe loosely tied around his waist and hair tousled.
He stood inside the room with the door partially open.
Rana hesitated, cleared his throat, “So sorry to wake you up Sir, we just drove
from Oklahoma to see the diamond mine, is there any way we can see it?” he asked softly.
“It’s closed,” the ranger smiled, his hand still holding the door knob.
“Can we at least look around?” I almost whispered. Oh, please, please at least let us look, I prayed. The ranger looked at me and then at Rana and then at Omar. A few seconds passed by. He nodded his head, “Yes, of course.”
My prayers were answered. I was astonished by the ranger’s compassion toward three strangers at a late hour. He even let us take pictures of the surrounding area.
The Crater of Diamonds is the 8th largest diamond reserve in the world. In 1994 alone, there were 1,421 diamonds found in this area. The most fascinating part of the mine is that the visitors are allowed to dig for diamonds and keep the precious rocks. I wished I were there during the day: missing the real fun of digging saddened me.
What in the world am I complaining about—I’m here at the diamond mine for God’s sake. There is no reason to be sad.
We walked around in the dark, some of the mine area were only lit by weak light from tall lamp posts. Rana took pictures using his camera’s flash.
By the time we headed home, it was close to 10:00p.m. Although Oklahoma and Arkansas were neighboring states, we had a long way back to drive. “We would reach home in the early morning, right?” I asked Rana on our way.
“That’s the idea, wake me up if I fall asleep while driving, ha ha,” Rana chuckled. “Hey, you know Rana, I’m not a bit sad that we couldn’t dig for diamonds.”
He kept his eyes on the road, “Why’s that?” he asked.
“I saw another jewel—the frozen waterfall on Mount Nebo. I still can’t believe
the water just froze on its way down—there’s really no end to nature’s beauty, is there?” “I agree,” he replied. “I can’t believe the park ranger allowed us to walk around at
such a late hour,” he added.
Omar turned his head toward me from the passenger seat and began talking. I pretended not to listen and kept my eyes closed. I don’t know why but I was more distant from Omar on our way back. Maybe something is changing in me—I feel a rope around is coming loose. I can go anywhere in America if I really want to!
We came back very late that night. Both Rana and Omar were yawning, their eyes dreary. I thanked Rana with a big smile.
I came inside our apartment and opened my window. A gentle breeze made a swooshing sound when the leaves brushed against each other, the night air smelled intoxicating. I looked up at the sky, the moon was bright. “Thank you—you’re my healing in need,” I softly said to the wind, the trees, the sky, the moon, and to the memories of Arkansas.
Rana, my Bangladeshi friend from Oklahoma, kept driving toward our final destination—the Crater of Diamonds mine in Arkansas. I looked at my watch—it was 5:00p.m. “I’ve never been in a mine before, you know?” I said from the back seat.
“Me neither, ha ha,” Rana’s laughter filled the air inside the car.
Omar, my husband, sat in the passenger seat. “You’re wasting so much of my time!” he said.
“It’s good to get away from work sometimes, Brother,” Rana replied, keeping his voice calm, although I sensed sarcasm.
“At least you can talk in Bangla on this trip,” I said to Omar. I knew he wouldn’t show his annoyance in front of a non-Bangladeshi. But with Rana, he was open with his frustration.
The HW7 twisted and turned over the mountains as we continued our drive. I could see small lakes, tall trees, and some evergreens blending with the yellow-orange of other seasonal trees. The mountains with touches of fall palette and the many rivers and lakes truly make Arkansas “The Natural State.” I couldn’t take my eyes off of the scenery. We were so absorbed in the moment, both Rana and I lost track of time.
“It’s almost close to 6:30 p.m., according to the map, the diamond mine shouldn’t be this far on Highway 7,” I said.
Rana sensed the panic in my voice. “Hmmm.. It looks like I drove too far,”
“It’s getting darker, Oh no, we may not be able to see the mine!” I said as I put my head between the front two seats of the car.
Rana looked at me for a split second and then made a u-turn, “I think we’ll be ok.”
By the time we arrived at the mine, it was 7:45 p.m.
The night put a spell of silence on the surroundings—the street lights struggled to illuminate small patches of the ground. I did not remember the closing time from the brochure, but the darkness assured that the mine was closed. I kept my head down and stood beside our parked car. Only a small sigh came out of my throat. We walked to the mine entrance and stood in front of the closed gate: a large “Closed” sign hung on the gate.
“We came a long way from Oklahoma and aren’t just going to leave!” Rana looked at me and said.
A few moments passed by, I looked at him; “Okay, what to do then?”
I followed Rana and we began walking toward the park ranger’s home.
Omar stopped, turned his head toward me, “You and your crazy trips,” he said. I
ignored his comments and continued walking. The three of us came close to a wooden cottage, stepped on the front steps to the porch. I took a deep breath. Rana and I knocked on the door together.
Someone slightly lifted the curtain of the side window and looked at us from inside. In the dim light of the porch, I couldn’t see the person’s face. A few moments later, a tall man opened the front door, “I’m the park ranger. May I help you?” he asked in a coarse voice. I looked at him, his robe loosely tied around his waist and hair tousled.
He stood inside the room with the door partially open.
Rana hesitated, cleared his throat, “So sorry to wake you up Sir, we just drove
from Oklahoma to see the diamond mine, is there any way we can see it?” he asked softly.
“It’s closed,” the ranger smiled, his hand still holding the door knob.
“Can we at least look around?” I almost whispered. Oh, please, please at least let us look, I prayed. The ranger looked at me and then at Rana and then at Omar. A few seconds passed by. He nodded his head, “Yes, of course.”
My prayers were answered. I was astonished by the ranger’s compassion toward three strangers at a late hour. He even let us take pictures of the surrounding area.
The Crater of Diamonds is the 8th largest diamond reserve in the world. In 1994 alone, there were 1,421 diamonds found in this area. The most fascinating part of the mine is that the visitors are allowed to dig for diamonds and keep the precious rocks. I wished I were there during the day: missing the real fun of digging saddened me.
What in the world am I complaining about—I’m here at the diamond mine for God’s sake. There is no reason to be sad.
We walked around in the dark, some of the mine area were only lit by weak light from tall lamp posts. Rana took pictures using his camera’s flash.
By the time we headed home, it was close to 10:00p.m. Although Oklahoma and Arkansas were neighboring states, we had a long way back to drive. “We would reach home in the early morning, right?” I asked Rana on our way.
“That’s the idea, wake me up if I fall asleep while driving, ha ha,” Rana chuckled. “Hey, you know Rana, I’m not a bit sad that we couldn’t dig for diamonds.”
He kept his eyes on the road, “Why’s that?” he asked.
“I saw another jewel—the frozen waterfall on Mount Nebo. I still can’t believe
the water just froze on its way down—there’s really no end to nature’s beauty, is there?” “I agree,” he replied. “I can’t believe the park ranger allowed us to walk around at
such a late hour,” he added.
Omar turned his head toward me from the passenger seat and began talking. I pretended not to listen and kept my eyes closed. I don’t know why but I was more distant from Omar on our way back. Maybe something is changing in me—I feel a rope around is coming loose. I can go anywhere in America if I really want to!
We came back very late that night. Both Rana and Omar were yawning, their eyes dreary. I thanked Rana with a big smile.
I came inside our apartment and opened my window. A gentle breeze made a swooshing sound when the leaves brushed against each other, the night air smelled intoxicating. I looked up at the sky, the moon was bright. “Thank you—you’re my healing in need,” I softly said to the wind, the trees, the sky, the moon, and to the memories of Arkansas.
