six
The bones rattle in my body. My mule hobbles down in a pitiful attempt to keep up with the riders. Within no time we’ve arrived at their camp. The huge main tent stands out like a colossal sky spider, perching itself on the vast plain. A myriad of vibrant prayer flags flutters from the eight wooden poles that hold up the black yak-hair pavilion, crowning the massive construction with a majestic look.
The air is laden, buzzing with anticipation. A bunch of bright-eyed children storm out to meet us, wrapping their shiny satin ribbons around our mules. Women haul water, scrub pots, and stir cauldrons, while men line up in front of the main tent for the official welcome. My initial reluctance fades away with the bright smiles and greetings that meet me. What a fantastic reception. How ru
