Gareth Jones
[bas relief by Oleh Lesiuk]
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'Are you Listening NYT?' U.N. Speech - Nov 2009 |
Gareth Recognised at Cambridge - Nov 2009 |
Reporter and the Genocide - Rome, March 2009 |
Order of Freedom Award -Nov 2008 |
Premiere of 'The Living' Documentary Kyiv - Nov 2008 |
Gareth Jones 'Famine' Diaries - Chicago 2008 |
Aberystwyth Memorial Plaque 2006 |
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Plessen is tall, sensitive, and nervous about catching trains and buses, exact, correct, speaking public school English. Müller is small, pleasantly cynical, and philosophical. Does not worry about anything, jokes all the time, as do all my German friends. When we are almost bumped to pieces going over a mound he grins; if the lorry nearly tumbles on one side he roars; he never loses his good humour and is an excellent companion. Thus the train left Peking with its ‘Three Musketeers’. We travelled towards the fine, towering mountains about 20 - 30 miles to the north of Peking, and saw the Great Wall; or rather there are many walls, which defended China against the Mongols. The Mongols have been slowly driven back for over 150 miles to the north of the previous frontier and all the villages we passed through are Chinese. Poor old Mongols! They have a hopeless position and have been losing their land to the Chinese. We went under the Great Wall in a tunnel, came out and saw a magnificent view, a vast plain surrounded by blue mountains, which are full of iron ore and which the Japanese wish to develop. At 3.30 in the afternoon (after 8 ½ hours), we came to a huge collection of mud houses, with some stone in the middle surrounded by hills. It was Kalgan, the outpost for trade between the Mongols and China. There, two magnificent cars were waiting for us. We were to be the guests of Mr Purpis, a Latvian, the “King of Kalgan” who is the chief trader in Inner Mongolia and sells about 30,000 horses each year to the Chinese Army. Our chauffeur was the former chauffeur of the Panchen Lama, who with the Dalai Lama is the chief lama of Tibet and Mongolia. He drove us through the dirty town to a kind of mud-wall fortress on the outskirts of the town. It was Wostwag, the company for trading with the Mongols, a German firm. We entered a courtyard, which was full of hides, tobacco, boxes of silks, wool. There were many lorries, which go from Kalgan across part of the Gobi Desert to Urga in (Soviet) Outer Mongolia. Mr Purpis, a very lively man, very strong and vigorous, in breeches and leather boots, came to welcome us. He gave us a wonderful dinner that night. We had a warning to beware of Mongol dogs that are said to leap at men’s throats if the men are afraid. (But I do not have the slightest trouble with Mongol dogs. Either they take a liking to me or they are terrified of me and slink away. They can tell at once that I have no fear of dogs.) |
Gareth at the Lama service. |
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