A Recollection of Memories in Bhutan

The First Nunnery:

There isn’t any room for error. The cliff drops magnificently and I understand why the Bhutanese believe that a supernatural power resides here — there is barely any room before the drop, and the drop is deadly. There are houses clinging to the rocks and the people that live here are determined, they are scholars, and they do not fear the plunge. They run up and down the scarce steps, past us, easily and light on their feet. I, however, am terrified of slipping. Or falling. The view is beautiful. It’s green and gray and cloudy. There are trees, and fog that plays between the branches. Moss grows on the slick black rocks and there are tiny strawberries. After the climb we reach a room, there is an altar. The whole room is dark and colorful. We sit side by side, shoulders touching. On my left sits…