Meanwhile, on another part of the planet...

We passed through a gate, and halfway up a forested mountain arrived at the monastery under darkening skies. Imposing buildings in traditional style rose from the hillside at intervals: long, black-tiled roofs, the eaves painted in delicate pinks and greens, decorated with flower and animal carvings; sturdy red wooden pillars, delicate trellised doors with paper windows. We stopped and the monk disappeared into one of the halls, asking me to wait. I watched the mist rise from the trees. I couldn’t help thinking he was going to emerge embarrassed, having discovered I had no invitation, no right to be here. Instead, he invited me in and asked if I wanted to eat. When I said I wasn’t hungry, a boy of about twelve gave me an umbrella and two monks led me across the sandy courtyard, skirting puddles, past a stone pagoda and towards the Hall of the White Lotus. Sliding wooden doors were drawn open on a bright, bare room. I left my shoes outside as was customary and from behind more s...