It’s the third day of our homestay in the Tibetan village of Sakor, the strength of the mountains and endless green fields have brought us instant peace, we have been sleeping like babies.
We wake to the melody of the summer rain, the smell of fresh mud, the dancing earth worms, the music of the singing birds, the light breathing of our two year old host sister sleeping. Time has stopped for this perfect moment while we quietly watch our homestay mum prepare yak milk tea and seasonal local food, the long forgotten closeness with another human being, we don’t speak the same language but we talk with our minds.
The room is warmed by the fire from dried yak dung, the ash is used to cover the toilet waste, we drink yak milk, eat yak meat, yak fur is used to build tents for nomads. Everyday routine contains so much respect for nature, blessings on barley stocks to honor good harvest, ceremonial blowing of a horn before going to the field to bring good luck. We could just sit here all day and enjoy the sound of silence. simply moved by the pureness of ancient wisdom.