A Land of Yaks, Yak-Butter Tea, and Yak Cheese.
December 28th 2010 The old man plodded along the long narrow road. His shoulders were stooped. His head down. His woolly hat jammed tightly over his ears as if pulled on in a fit of pique. Lopsong, our guide/driver, pulled over and spoke to him. Suddenly he was climbing into the car and sitting next to me on the back seat. His brown cordoroy trousers were threadbare; his olive green jacket stained with white powder
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