Some people are prostrating, inching slowly toward the temple doors. The women have their long dresses tied around their legs at the bottom as they unerringly continue in their rhythmic practice of prostrations. I walk into this temple and am immediately taken with the palpable devotion of these people. I join in a group as a large, smiling Tibetan women hugs me into the space in front of her. The turquoise, coral and gold statues are breathtakingly beautiful and I am moved to tears. I move into another little group and find myself entering a chained off entrance into a beautiful chapel. Together, we make prostrations, place money near the statues, and touch our heads to the altars. The monks are on their hands and knees scrapping the excess butter off the cement floors, which curls into long balls that looks like some root vegetable. The reverence is profound in this temple – it is not the seeing, but the feeling. Upstairs, I ask a couple of people to take pictures of me.
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