Having spent two years away from his extended family, Dawa, the favorite son, wanted to stay most of the day.  Already he has a luncheon invite.

           I am sitting in Dawa’s aunt’s house.  It is a multi-room two story house with a smokeless fire pit, the first that I have seen.  The running water coming into the house through a plastic hose gravity feed offers convenience.  The floors are wood. And the interior is neat and tidy.

           There is the aunt, a monk, a mother and her daughter, and a neighbor woman sharing the dining area with me.  Dawa is elsewhere.  I am writing this while listening to their banter.  There is a huge barrier which I cannot eliminate without a command of the language.  Despite the fact I cannot interact, they make me feel comfortable and welcome.

           They have made a drink from fermented millet seeds.  After the fermentation process, when they are ready to drink, such as now, they place the wet seeds in terry cloth and squeeze the juice out.  They do this repeatedly until they have a sufficient amount.  It is a slightly sweet, mildly intoxicating drink that is quite pleasant.

            The daughter is hard working and always doing something around the house, very much the young woman.  Talking, laughing, and smiling seems to be the Sherpa way.  The large brass pots holding the water supply are exquisite.  The six inch diameter, four foot wooden churn used in making Tibetan Tea is beautiful.

           The hearth, as it was in early America, is the hub of the house - a place that is warm in an otherwise unheated house.  A place where the food is cooked and the family comes together to interact.  A place where the strong bonds of family and friends are created and maintained.