Fire puja chocolate croissant

CN

We walked up the forested path to the regional mountaineering center where of us  did a session on the steep lattice ladder, then to Lhamo's croissant bakery, where they ushered us into the upper room, where we sat on cushions and waited for the croissants to come out of the oven, surrounded by pictures of their home in Tibet they left 20 years ago, walking over high Himalayan passes to India. They have a seven year old daughter, who kept peeking into our room, fascinated to see Emily. 

These are the old faded prayer flags on the roof of the bakery, which the kind, calm, owner gave me. Every time I see him, he wants to tell me about a talk he is listening to or a book, today when we paid he said, my mind gets so narrow when I have to count money. 

Hunting for the carved stamps on the side of the road. 

Impressions of the fire puja, a strange and hypnotic combination of deep voices, chanting prayers, while the repairs continued on another level with the blows of a repetitive sledge hammer, "truth comes in blows" 

like a performance piece or a zen Buddhist koan, connecting the sacred to the mundane.  Monks dressed in maroon robes with flashes of orange chanting ancient sacred incantations, over the sledge hammer base line, while the young monks downstairs continued their clapping exchanges, clap, laugh, clap, all of this is outside on the temple interior porch looking out over the distant mountain. Lots of fire, burnt offerings.

The shoes the monks wear are varied, and interesting. 

The roof of the temple.

Out hotel looks so grand at night.