Sep 08, 2010
A thousand closed rooms gathering dust. It is empty, missing its heart, its validity. This is the architectural marvel of the country. It is still brutal. Harsh. Impressive in its crudity. A strange mixture of exquisite craftsmanship and incompetent carpentry. Turmeric yellow and paprika red and white, white, white. The most unbelievable white in this rarified air, that bit closer to the sun. And the most unbelievable blackness in the shadows. Resist the tour and take our own time. These were the Dalai Lama's quarters. This was his thrown. This is where he studied. This is where he prayed. This is all in the past. This is all a museum. Please don't touch anything. No Photo, Please!