The track climbed skyward in the thinning autumn Himalayan air, through low-hanging clouds and around hairpin bends with sweeping views over a valley of fields and rivers. So high we went that it seemed there could be nothing more except mountain wilderness.
Then, came twangs of music from rustic instruments and around a corner we drove onto a plateau lined with four-wheel-drive vehicles outside a gold-roofed Buddhist temple. As I opened my door, I was confronted by a dancer wearing a dark maroon wooden mask sporting massive ears and jagged teeth carved into a broad smile. Clutching with both hands, he waved back and forth what I first thought was a wand of sorts but it turned out to be a symbol of worship -- a giant phallus.
