At the gompa, the log ladders climb to a small third-storey room, lit by a dusty ray of light from one small window. The chapel is a litter of worn draperies, leather cases, hide drums, copper cauldrons, conchshell ceremonial horns, painted wood boxes, wood-bound books, and terra-cotta figures of Karma-pa, Sakyamuni, and a bulge-eyed Padma Sambhava. A splendid bronze of Dorje-Chang on a platform above the centre of the room seems to vibrate in the dusty light: I keep expecting it to speak, and can scarcely turn my back upon it.
