We went to one of the great, ancient Buddhists sites. In 1937 it was destroyed by the communist invasion. Looters last night had dug a pit to plunder the site. In it we found many charred Buddhas with the heads broken off. Charred sacred cloth. Remains from the temple destruction. Now except for wind and a few stones, this sacred place is uninhabited. The remains drove home the destruction in a tangible way. 

Forgot to mention yesterday that we had this giant thunderstorm roll in before a pass. We had to get off our horses and turn our backs to the wind as we were hammered by hail, wind and rain. When the hail hit the horses at first they jumped. The water ran down into our boots. Later at our camp, Susan was hustled inside by the fire and put into a dell, the local cloak and warmed by the fire. Our clothes were hung on the ceiling. 

They don't use greetings here. Here is a typical experience: We were walking to the temple site and a family was taking down their gher. We walked up and without greeting assisted. When the yak cart was loaded and the gher was on its way to a new site. We left. No greetings were exchanged. When help is needed you just stop an change your plans. Then go back to what you were doing.