Tibet Stories

I was walking through a tiny village and I passed this man standing in the doorway to his home. I asked (with sign language since he spoke no English and I spoke no Tibetan) if I could take his picture. He said no, so I asked if I could take a shot of his beautiful doorway and he said yes. After a few frames he invited me in. He showed me the religious paintings on his walls, the living space and the courtyard that had a solar reflector system used to boil water for brewing yak butter tea. I noticed his fingers were colored blue, so I asked him about it. He showed me a stack of pieces of what appeared to be yak skin that he was working with and they had the same blue tint. I assumed something in the process turned his fingers blue as well. After a while it was time to leave. After he showed me out he stood in the doorway again. I asked once more if I could take his picture and this time he said yes.


	I was walking through a tiny village and I passed this man standing in the doorway to his home. I asked (with sign language since he spoke no English and I spoke no Tibetan) if I could take his picture. He said no, so I asked if I could take a shot of his beautiful doorway and he said yes. After a few frames he invited me in. He showed me the religious paintings on his walls, the living space and the courtyard that had a solar reflector system used to boil water for brewing yak butter tea. I noticed his fingers were colored blue, so I asked him about it. He showed me a stack of pieces of what appeared to be yak skin that he was working with and they had the same blue tint. I assumed something in the process turned his fingers blue as well. After a while it was time to leave. After he showed me out he stood in the doorway again. I asked once more if I could take his picture and this time he said yes.
	© 2005 Forest McMullin			McMullin-097.jpg