April 19

" My first experience with an onpo was when Dechen, a young Ladakhi woman from Changspa, a village just east of Leh, took me to her family onpo. She said this man was very special because he doubled as an amchi as well. He was famous throughout Leh as a great prophet and healer. Dechen guided me through a lovely poplar grove in the early morning light. We crossed a rough stone bridge over a stream and finally ended up at an old Ladakhi house. Climbing a flight of well-worn stone stairs, we entered a room filled with dark red and blue Tibetan carpets. Cushions were propped up against one wall, with a low table positioned in front of the opposite wall. The room was very dark, lit only by one small, dusty window. Dechen told me she had never talked to the onpo; she had always been afraid of him. This would be the first time she had spoken to him, even though she had visited him many times with her father since she was a child.

We waited. In a few minutes a strikingly handsome man about seventy years old entered the room. His long grey hair was pulled back into a ponytail,and he wore a heavy wool chuba, or coat, gathered at his waist by a green sash. He sat behind the low table.


	Through My Eyes Saturday April 19 ( And here we go to visit an onpo!) " My first experience with an onpo was when Dechen, a young Ladakhi woman from Changspa, a village just east of Leh, took me to her family onpo. She said this man was very special because he doubled as an amchi as well. He was famous throughout Leh as a great prophet and healer. Dechen guided me through a lovely poplar grove in the early morning light. We crossed a rough stone bridge over a stream and finally ended up at an old Ladakhi house. Climbing a flight of well-worn stone stairs, we entered a room filled with dark red and blue Tibetan carpets. Cushions were propped up against one wall, with a low table positioned in front of the opposite wall. The room was very dark, lit only by one small, dusty window. Dechen told me she had never talked to the onpo; she had always been afraid of him. This would be the first time she had spoken to him, even though she had visited him many times with her father since she was a child. We waited. In a few minutes a strikingly handsome man about seventy years old entered the room. His long grey hair was pulled back into a ponytail,and he wore a heavy wool chuba, or coat, gathered at his waist by a green sash. He sat behind the low table. The onpo could speak no English so Dechen translated." I promise to add more tomorrow... Through my eyes * This is once again from Art Perry's book the Tibetans