With new friends, I trekked past terraced hillsides, tripped over mountain waterfalls, crossed trecherous bridges and gazed at the spectacular peaks. The village people were busily taking care of crops, cows, buffalo and chickens. Women were weaving goat hair, drying grain, making baskets, washing clothes and taking care of children. Everywhere I go, the mountains constant beauty is strong and powerful. Past memories blend with new experiences, forming a carefully woven cloak. This mesmerizing land has a calm about it despite, or maybe because of, the challenges faced by those who dwell in the same manner as their ancestors before them. Little here has changed; leaving questions without answers by those who don't ask.
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