Embodying the Spirit of Ladakh

So, this post for the blog was written about a month ago. But, thanks to the questionable internet here it didn't post the first time I tried. So here we are, more than a month after our first trek and I am going to tell you about a certain little person in my last host family who really made me think.
In our last home-stay in the village of Ang we were split up between a lot of houses. In my house it was only Lydia, Tsomo, and me. We family welcomed us into their kitchen where we all sat around the stove and drank the always welcomed milk tea. The room was smoky and there wasn't much else in the room besides some food stores of rice and vegetables and a box of cow dung for fuel. Our Ama-Le, wrapped in her traditional goncha robe, had a bundle of blankets on her hip. There was a younger woman who began to prepare food, soon the rest of the family would be coming home. Ama-Le stood up and handed the bundle of blankets to the younger woman, who turned out to be her daughter-in-law. The woman carefully held the bundle in her lap. From this bundle of blankets peered the happy and innocent face of a three month old Ladakhi baby boy. His new eyes stared wondering around the room at these two strangers. He hadn't even uttered so much as a whimper. He sat and stared and held onto the blankets wrapped about him.
Gradually as the night went on, more and more of the family came in. We learned that this small mud brick house was the home to nine people. There were grandparents, our Ama-le and Aba-le, then there was the young woman who was their daughter-in-law, and her husband. They had two children, and older daughter and the little baby who now lay peacefully in the arms of his grandfather. Then there were three other brothers who were in school.
The light began to fade and the temperature began to drop. Aba-Le but more dung on the fire and one of the brothers wrapped another blankets around his nephew. The baby blinked his eyes and stretched his little arms as he was passed back to his grandmother. But he did not complain. Right before dinner was served, it was my turn.
Ama-Le stood up and placed the new life in my arms. The I stared down at the bundle of blankets in my arms. He squirmed and squinted and he settled himself in this new set of arms, soon he lay still and looked up into my blue eyes so different than his own. He even smiled. This is Ladakh I thought. This beautiful little baby, is exactly what Ladakh is. He is welcoming and accepting of everyone. He is loving, and wrapped in blankets to keep out the cold. As I sat around the stove, the smell of smoke filling my nose, the taste of tea lingering on my lips, and the new little life wrapped up in my arms, I had understood completely why people come to this wonderful part of the world they call the last Shangri-La.
-Amy van Loon(Little Amy)