Peter Temple-Morris’s account of encounters and meetings with Russian youth. It is largely chronological and covers all the time spent travelling to Moscow, our time there and then down to the Ukraine before leaving via Rumania.
His account is here
Peter Temple-Morris’s account of encounters and meetings with Russian youth. It is largely chronological and covers all the time spent travelling to Moscow, our time there and then down to the Ukraine before leaving via Rumania.
His account is here
The gleaming turbo-jet touches down lightly on the new tarmac which has recently replaced the dirt runway at
An old man nods before his Quran. Is the Quran as so embracing as once the fathers believed and as they teach their children? Not only the intellectuals are pestered by this heresy. These weird western innovations are proving not to be ephemeral nor succumb to the old order.
Further away the old man who grunts and growls to spur his donkey through the bazaar is not so convinced. His body has been wracked by time and likewise his donkey who plods his sullen way past the stalls and the beckoning merchants. The old man’s eyes flash indignantly from beneath the charred folds of skin of his face as they light upon an evil eye before a white face. The eye clicks with a smart metallic clunk and is lowered; the northern meddler into time and faith disappears into the crowd.