Walked over the bridge, over all the bridges stopping for yak cheese and brown bread from Namche along the milky turquoise green river, along the stone path bordered by stone walls through the potato gardens, the rye fields to the Phakding bakery, the hardest day going back down was not so bad...the bakery insisted on giving me hot chocolate. The trail to Lukla included a stop at a little private monastery, Clark and I heard the music and went inside. The young monks, 11, 12, 13 years old and the older llamas, including the cave llama from the cave high on the canyon wall. We sat on the rich brown wood floor and listened to the chanting, the drums, the long horns, the short horn, it was the bridge to Nirvana...
disrupting class all over the world
milk tea and biscuit in the monaster
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