Tibetan man, Lithang, Eastern Tibet (Photo: M. Griffiths)
Read Trial by Fire - (Part 1) Fire here
Read Trail by Fire - (Part 2) Air here
Part 3 - Earth
******** August 2nd, pm ********
Greg awoke after
lunch. Gradually the events of the previous day slowly organised themselves in his
mind.
He got up and checked
the guidebook for buses to Leshan. The trip took about 2 hours. Tomorrow he
would leave at 8am to get there at 10 and make a good show of looking around
and taking photos. Plenty of time to get
to the Buddha’s toenails by 11am.
Then the more complicated bit. How to
stay anonymous while getting the video out?
The computer
side of it wasn’t the only worry. He remembered a story
he’d heard about a western pilot from Hong Kong who’d had a holiday
in China. Because he was a pilot his guide had taken him to an air museum near
Beijing. Being a plane enthusiast he’d recognized the
remains of a captured U2 spy plane the Chinese had there. His hosts were
surprised and hurried him out after that. For the rest of his trip, even to
innocuous places like the buried army in Xi’an, he’d been aware of someone tailing him.
Greg made a list
of things he needed to do and how. Acting like a normal tourist was the main
thing, but then he also had to be able to get away and send the information
out. He headed out to the bus station to buy the ticket to Leshan for the next
day, then went to a small local market and bought several different hats, and a
cheap black carry bag.
He found himself
looking around for security cameras and potential tails.
Stop acting suspicious you idiot.
But he did have
an uncomfortable feeling he was being watched.
Back
in his room he checked his email and phone for messages from Dolma or whoever
might contact him. Nothing. It was probably too soon.
Justin had sent
a message from Kangding detailing his plans. Apparently he was getting on well
with the Irish students and a couple of others and they were all heading to
Yunnan.
Greg scrolled through
the other emails.
He wondered if
he should use the tablet and his SIM card at all. Could the police have put
some kind of trace on them? Can’t afford to take the risk. He decided not to use it except to check for messages despite the VPN.
Likewise the phone. I’ll get a new SIM card in Beijing when I
get back. But I’ve still got to act normal and send
emails and messages as I did before, in case they are checking. He rubbed his
forehead. Being an amateur spy is way too stressful
He went to an internet
bar and found he couldn’t get in; all users had to show a
Chinese ID. Apparently Sichuan was the only province in China doing this. It
was a hassle, but it gave him another idea.
He found another
hotel with its own business centre and internet bar and set up a new email
account under false name with a Stockholm apartment address taken from a real
estate site. Arno.Bodde@gmail.com. Then he sent a message to his friend from
university, now working as a lawyer back home. He calculated the time
difference and worked out that he would have at least two days to sort things
out at his end. Better not be on holiday.
Before leaving
he attempted to wipe the cache and browser history of the PC before logging off
and paying the fee. Fingers crossed.
He looked around
as he came out of the hotel. Any of the people standing around could be
watching him. He had to be more careful.
On the way back
to his hotel he bumped into Jimmy. He was wandering the streets tasting local
snacks and planning his next move.
“I’d recommend you
go to the Wenshu temple tomorrow,” said Greg, “and the Qing Yang Gong Daoist temple. They’re both worth a
look.”
Anything to keep him occupied while I go
to Leshan. I don’t need someone getting in the way.
“What are you up to?” Jimmy asked.
“Just wandering around thinking about where
to go next. I got a message from my roommate. He’s going down to Yunnan
province tonight. I might go there and meet up with him.” Justin had planned to go there anyway, prior to the cancellation of the
horse festival, to work on a volunteer house building project run by some US-Tibetan
NGO.
They found a
local restaurant for dinner. Greg looked at Jimmy’s muscular
physique and asked him if he did weight training or kung fu?
“Oh no.” he laughed. “Just soccer. I love it. Manchester United is the best team in the world!”
They
chatted some more about traveling. “It is a real
pity about the Horse Racing Festival. I was looking forward to it.” said Jimmy.
“Yeah me too. Would have been great to see all the Tibetans dressed up in
their traditional clothes and stuff, and the horse racing as well”
“Did you see what happened in Litang,
the riot?” said Jimmy.
“Not really. I heard a lot of noise in the street. I was in bed with a
hangover.” Greg replied. Loose lips sink ships right? “What about you?”
“I heard a Tibetan set themselves on
fire, then the riot started.” said Jimmy.
“No wonder the police were so touchy
about it then. There’ve been lots of those lately. The Tibetans
are obviously not happy.”
“Do you think the Tibetans are right?” asked Jimmy, “That they should be independent?”
“I think they would like to be able to
live as they want to and maintain their culture rather than be told what to do.
The government seems to have other ideas.”
“I don’t like the
communists. I’m glad I was born in Taiwan. What do you
think about the Chinese government?”
Greg
answered slowly. “Well, China
has achieved lots of things in the last 30 years or so but some of it
is not sustainable, the pollution, inequality, corruption...and the only way
they seem to deal with disagreement is more repression. That's not good for the
Chinese,” he paused, “or the Tibetans.”
Jimmy
frowned. “It affects all of us. You westerners
only look out for your own interests. We should do something about the Litang situation. Tell the newspapers!”
Greg
contemplated reminding him about the US fleet protecting Taiwan but thought
better of it.
“What can we tell them? I don’t know anything about the person who died, or why.”
“Well, I’m going to do something.” Jimmy said. “Ask your friends what they saw. Maybe we
can write an article or something.”
“My friends didn’t see anything much either as far as I
know. They searched all our cameras and phones. If they had anything the police
wouldn’t have let them go.”
“Maybe they did they just didn’t want to say
anything while we were in Litang? Ask
them. I’m sure someone must have filmed it.”
Greg
looked at Jimmy. “Ok. I’ll email a few
of them tomorrow. I think I’m going to bed early. I’m still tired.” He got up to go. “See you tomorrow night after your sightseeing maybe.” Intense guy, and maybe he has a
point. But I’ve already got too many people involved
in this.
******** August 3rd, am ********
“Greg? Hi.” said a voice
behind him.
He spun around.
“Liz. How are you?”
“I’m good.” She stepped
forward and hugged him tight. He felt
her slip something into his back pocket. She whispered, “I took a copy, just in
case.” She slowly let go.
“Be careful.” said Greg, “I have a weird feeling I’m being
followed.”
She
nodded. “Us too. Toby’s distracting
the guy now…and he wasn’t sure whether he could see you without
punching you.”
“I don’t blame him. Are you two ok?”
“Yeah. He believed me once I showed him some of the video. He still
thinks you’re a jerk though.” She smiled.
“He’s right. I
shouldn’t have gotten you involved. I felt sick
when they asked for your name and took you out for a chat.”
She
shook her head. “It was my choice. And it turned out ok.
My story must have matched yours well enough.”
“Where are you guys heading now?”
“Through to Emei Shan this afternoon, then
down to Yunnan to where I did my research project last year, and then Thailand.
After that home to start on my masters thesis.”
“Good luck with that. Tibet needs more
scholars who are smart and brave.”
“And more supporters who are mad as
hatters.”
“There is at least one too many of those
already.” said Greg. “Ok, you’d better go before the cops get suspicious. Take care.”
“You too.” She looked at him. “Are you ok, you look a bit…?
“What? Terrifed?
Yeah, my blood pressure is off the scale.” He shrugged. “don’t worry, I’ll be
ok.”
She hugged him
again. “Good luck. Let me know how it goes.”
“I will. If it all goes to plan I’ll send you, umm, a photo of those flowers. “He pointed to
some plants under the cliff beside the statue.
“Ok. See you.”
He felt his
pulse racing as he watched her recede into the crowds> He turned and snapped
some shots of the flowers, and Buddha’s toenails, then headed for the bus
station to go back to Chengdu.
******** August 3rd , pm ********
The bus trip
back to the city dragged. The small bump in his back pocket felt like a
boulder.
He forced
himself to focus on something else. He ignored the scenery and opened up his
tablet. He read through the PDF copy of the manual for the video editing
software that came with the camera.
Back in his
hotel he locked the door, attached the security chain, then set to work on the
video. First he copied the file and then created a 30 second ‘trailer’. He reduced the quality to shrink the
file size so it was easier to email. Then he dressed in a disguise, scruffy
tourist, or should that ‘even scruffier tourist’. He wore a different hat, unzipped the bottom half of
his pants, and put on an old t-shirt. Once he had changed he went down the
stairs and slipped out the back of the hotel again to another hotel to send it
to his lawyer friend via the new email account. His friend had replied and was
working round the clock at his end to help out. So far so good.
He went back and
changed into his normal clothes and went down to through the hotel lobby to wander
around the town like typical tourist. Jimmy was in the lobby reading.
“Where’ve you been
today?” he asked.
“Went to Leshan this morning. Got some
great photos. How about we have dinner later and I’ll show you?”
After
some aimless wandering he went back up to his room and contemplated places to
hide the memory stick. He settled on sliding it inside the leg of his tripod. Why didn’t I think of that before? He
levered off the rubber end and stuck it inside with tape. He decided to keep it
on him at all times. He put in his bag and slung it over his shoulder, grabbed
his camera bag and headed down to meet Jimmy.
Greg
showed Jimmy his photos and asked to see his temple photos. Jimmy asked about
whether Greg friends had responded to his email.
“They don’t know anything
more than we do.” Greg replied. “Have you started your article?”
Jimmy ignored him and asked again about any information he or his friends might
know. All talk and no do, thought Greg.
After
dinner he headed back to his room and started working on the whole video.
Slowly he editing out Liz’s and his voices from the soundtrack and
tried to think of anything else that might lead the authorities back to them.
The location he couldn’t change. The zoom should help though;
hopefully they were far enough away to make it unclear which hotel room the
video was taken from. He finished around 10pm. He slid the memory stick back
into the tripod leg. Now all he could was wait for Dolma’s information. He hoped it wouldn’t take too long.
He looked at what was left of his fingernails and shook his head.
******** August 4th , am ********
As he was
heading out of the hotel about 9am Jimmy appeared. “I didn’t see you at breakfast. What are you up to today?”
“Slept in. Not sure what next.” He thought
fast. “Maybe some local sights. Can’t be bothered traveling far. Hey, you’ve shaved off
your beard.”
“Ahh, yeah. My mom’s been nagging me for ages. She says
looking like an artist doesn’t make me one.”
“What are your plans?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Try the Panda breeding centre. You can’t come to Chengdu and not go there. I did it last week.”
Once Jimmy had
departed he stopped in at a small restaurant for some breakfast. While he ate
he leafed through the guidebook. He decided to head out to the cottage of the
famous Chinese poet Dufu.
He hailed a taxi
and tried to chat to the taxi driver as they went. At the park he wandered
around the gardens and took occasional photos.
He had the
feeling again that he was being followed. He tried various ways to see if he
could spring the tail but there were enough people wandering the grounds to
confuse him. He also tried sitting in a small orange roofed pavilion and using
his zoom lens to get a close up view of the people nearby.
Maybe the guy
with the big hat. The trim guy with the polo shirt. Young couple strolling hand
in hand? Potentially good disguise. The mother with the baby in the pram? Maybe
the baby was fake like on a TV program he had seen? Ok, no, that’s a real baby crying there.
Eventually after
walking round most of the gardens and taking photos of the cottage he took
refuge from the heat and humidity in the gift shop near the centre of the park.
It was an odd shape, like a squared off letter C. The main part was like the
bottom of the C, rectangular in shape with the shop counter, various books and
translations of Dufu’s works for sale, and miscellaneous
other souvenier knick-knacks.
To the left was
a long narrow gallery with calligraphy, paintings and prints. At the end the
hall turned right and another door allowed visitors to exit.
He decided that
a bit of poetry might be good to occupy his mind so he bought a translation of
Dufu’s poems by Rewi Alley, a New Zealander who spent decades living in China
helping start rural cooperatives. Then he wandered down the long hall admiring
the art work. He politely deflected the shop assistant who gave up quickly
after she realised he probably wasn’t in the income bracket
she was hoping for.
He stood staring
at a scroll painting. He glanced sideways down the gallery. A solid Chinese man
with short cropped hair and a baseball cap stood with his back to him.
Greg’s pulse raced and his hands felt clammy. This cloak and dagger stuff
is not good for the nerves.
He turned to
look at the paintings again, near the end of the long gallery. He spotted the second
exit. He glanced back again and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.
Read Trail by Fire - (Part 2) Air here
Read Trial by Fire - (Part 4) Water here.
PHOTOS
If you want to see some great photos of the Lithang horse festival see Charlie McRae's photo blog here. We met up at the horse festival in 2013 and he took some fantastic shots while he was there, plus other areas of Eastern Tibet. Ganzi! Ganzi!
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