Tag Archives: minerals

The Memorable Green Stones of Mexico

By Marcia Chaiken —

Two brilliant green gemstones of Mexico etched themselves permanently in my memory over fifty years ago. They were the jadeite eyes of the Red Jaguar throne. Reached in the state of Yucatan by climbing upward and upward through claustrophobic passages inside the Temple of Kukulcan, aka El Castillo, in the center of the archeological Mayan site of Chichen Itza, the visitor eventually emerges from a dusky passage to see green eyes seemingly blazing.

Although these green stones seemed unique at the time, after many years of exploring artifacts from archeological digs around Mexico, I realized that green gemstones were prized among many pre-Columbian populations, whether Mayan, Olmec, Aztec or other cultures such as the Toltecs. Jadeite (sometimes confused with jade) was extremely valued by the Mayans, not only for the mineral’s beauty but for the belief in its spiritual properties. The color was thought to be an emanation from the God of Maize. By incorporating jadeite fragments into funeral masks, the intent was to close the gap between the earthly world and the world of the gods. And adorning oneself with jadeite objects, such as earspools, indicated the high status of the wearer.

Turquoise was the green gem preferred by the Aztecs. The stone was worked into a plethora of jewelry for priests and royalty, including necklaces, earrings, nose ornaments and bracelets. Ceremonial objects such as knife handles were also inlaid with turquoise by the Aztecs. Like the Mayans, the Aztecs believed that their green stones were integral to their cosmology and spiritual beliefs.

Emeralds, though very rare, were worn by the highest-ranking members of indigenous ruling classes of the Mayans, Toltecs and Aztecs. Montezuma reportedly wore emeralds in his first meetings with the Spanish invaders. These jewels were also thought to be sacred and imbued with spiritual power.

Although recent research has shown that the turquoise used by the Aztecs was derived from Mexican mines in the north of the empire, jadeite was mined in the area now designated as Guatemala. Emeralds were obtained through trade routes and originally mined in Columbia. In the relatively recent past, mining of greenstones became a thriving industry in the northern states as well as in Chiapas around San Cristobal. Today Mexican greenstone jewelry has widespread appeal, and the minerals used include turquoise, calcite, jadeite, malachite, and andradite. Malachite jewelry has become so popular that it has stimulated plastic imitations; buyers seeking malachite are instructed to finger possible purchases before paying since malachite always feels cool but the plastic imitations take on the temperature of the surrounding air.

One of the beautiful green stones that abounds in Oaxaca is not a gemstone at all but a rock formed from volcanic ash, cantera. Green cantara has been quarried, cut and carved since colonial days near Oaxaca City and used to construct buildings and furniture, pave roads, and provide walls.

So, when I think of green stones in Mexico, I not only remember the brilliant green eyes of the Red Jaguar but the soft green glow of the streets, cathedral and other historic areas of Oaxaca.

Editor’s Letter

By Jane Bauer

“What we call Man’s power over Nature turns out to be a power exercised by some men over other men with Nature as its instrument.”
C.S.Lewis

Dominion or Delusion?

Imagine the center of the Earth—a churning core of fire, hotter than the surface of the sun. Around it, layers of rock, compressed over millennia, hold the planet together. Some of these rocks are laced with gold, silver, and lithium, elements we’ve deemed valuable. Others, we grind into dust beneath our feet without a second thought. Wrapped around all of this is water—vast, deep, and ancient—carving its way through rock, evaporating into clouds, raining back down in an endless cycle.

And then, there’s us.

We exist only on the thinnest layer, a mere film on the surface of this massive, breathing planet. And yet, we draw lines across it, dividing land into nations, waters into territories, air into controlled space. We claim mountains, rivers, even the empty sky, labeling them with deeds and mineral rights. We build economies, establish laws, and enforce rules over something that will never truly belong to us. We convince ourselves we have dominion over the Earth.

But then, the Earth shrugs. An earthquake swallows a city. A hurricane flattens a coastline. A volcano erupts, spilling molten rock as if to remind us where the true power lies. We scramble to rebuild, to reinforce, to regain control, as if control was ever ours to begin with.

Why do we do this? Why is dominion our highest ambition?

What if we saw this endless striving for control not as strength, but as a kind of weakness? What if the leaders who seek to control land, resources, and people weren’t admired for their power, but pitied for their delusion? What if, instead of fighting for dominance, we embraced the simple fact that we are just another part of this planet—not above it, not rulers of it, but made from the same dust as everything else?

Because, in the end, we are not conquerors of rock and water and fire. We are rock and water and fire. And the sooner we recognize that, the sooner we might learn to exist in harmony with the world, rather than constantly trying to claim it.

This month, our writers look at mining in Mexico, one of our earliest efforts to dominate the earth, but one that largely created the modern Mexican economy while filling affluent jewelry boxes. We need to ask at what cost?

See you next month!