A couple of days within I got in to Langmusi, there was a big gathering of monks and lamas and living buddhas from monasteries around the region.

The one and half street became busy. The early arrivals, mostly young monks perused the few shops. China Mobile office seemed to be a favorite among them. They also bought big quantity of rice and noodles and vegetables to bring to the monks’ quarter in the monastery, on the Si’Chuan side.

I strolled in as usual among pilgrims, now in much bigger number. The Si-Chuan side of the monastery was split in half by a warm stream coming down from the mountain. The main praying hall on the north side, a main temple directly across. One of the earlier afternoons, I saw a few monks practicing drumming and dancing in the big open square in front of the main praying hall. Now strangely, the square was all quiet while the streets and the streams full of life. I asked a young monk when they would start, “4 in the afternoon”, he told me.

Back to the street with more monks and cars. Near the entrance was a small line-up of about 50 monks. Before I realized what was happening, a motorcade rolled in and the monks started throwing paper prayers into the air. At the end of the motorcade was a good sized truck with a blissful monk standing in the back bed holding a Sony Ex1 on a tripod. He would have some nice footage from that high point.

Close to 4, I returned back to the main square, now filled with pilgrims and the monks were sitting in the center. A lot of them held their yellow high hat in their arms. Many photographers were busy occupying the best vintage points. I got pushed among the pilgrims and couldn’t move much.

Through the loud speaker a very assertive voice started making announcement in Tibetan, followed by another very assertive voice saying something very important. Helpers with name tag hanging on their neck kept people from rushing too much into the center. A few of the pilgrims prostrated on the ground, a lot more were mumbling.

As soon as there was some space in the crowd, I squeezed through to the side and caught a few shots of the sitting monks in the setting sun. It got really cold so I walked back to my hotel to add another layer. By the time I got back in, the lecture was just over and the monks rushed to find any corner they could to release themselves.

People didn’t move, so I stood around as well.

Shortly after the break, the monks came back to the center square and formed groups of threes, one sitting, one standing across, and one on the side. The one standing would say a few words, then clapped his hands in front of the one sitting, the other one monitored. Sometimes it sounded like a command, sometimes it sounded like a question that demanded, hopefully, enlightened answers.

I was not the only one amused by the scene. A few took photos and some had their camcorder out among the crowd. Even some of the pilgrims used their cell phone to record.

The night started to fall but the monks had no intention of stopping. The actions and discussions were heated among them and some bigger groups formed when I believed a question became worthy of more listeners to answer.

As I moved as discreetly as possible among the monks’ groups, I came upon an older monk who was also an onlooker. With the shadowy mountain as the backdrop and the low and high waves of shouting debates as the background, he pulled out an iPad2 from his robe and started recording the actions. Most of the monks kept on their routine while a few turned their heads in amazement. I’d say, Glory to Steve Jobs.

I walked away not knowing when the monks would call it their day. Only the sound of the stream rushing through the rocks could be heard once I got on the path toward the entrance. It was another gorgeous night.

Nothing is sacred; everything is sacred.