Hiking through the terraced rice paddies and up the hills that border the long valley. Along we went, passing a elderly women carrying the seedlings of rice to be sown and briefly stopping to say hello to a small child and her father tilling the heavy mud beneath the sunken rice paddies. We climbed through the dense forest and up to the monastery standing vigilant overlooking the valley. A magnificent location—beautifully manicured lawns, two large prayer wheels and three floors of Buddhist deities and offerings. The caretaker monk offered us a ritual blessing and some holy water, then the chance to roll the die used to portend the future—“good luck” the monk told me. And indeed it was. The rain had stopped and the monk showed us up a narrow ladder up to the roof of the monastery. We overlooked the valley beneath us—a breathtaking sight.
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