Benedictinites, eat yer heart out
After the incense fiasco, we were seated back in the library. The four monks settled into a deep, booming, sonorous chant in sanskrit (I think). It might have been Tibetan. (They signed our wedding book Tibetan.) These monks are the four most senior monks at the lamasery, four apparently being the perfect number for a blessing.
I'm still working on digitizing a selection of their chant to put up as an endless loop. It was kind of mesmerizing.
The monk in the orange robe is definitely from Nepal, and if I remember correctly, the highest monk in the order. We couldn't ask him many questions since he didn't speak any Chinese.