The next day, still wrapped in weariness, I entered Tahawndam, Burma's most northerly village. On the suspension bridge at the entrance to the village, countless darchor (prayer flags) fluttered. I had heard that Tahawndam was home to many Tibetans, but this was a surprise.

Upon entering the village, I discovered that, far from having just a few Tibetan inhabitants, the entire community of around twelve-twenty households were Tibetan. There were mandalas stuck on the doors to people's homes, and when we went to pay our respects to the village headman, he served us mountain-goat milk. I felt like I had left Burma behind.