Tibetan weddings, Shan had learned years earlier, were much more about celebrating than ceremony. Eventually, after the tub of beer was refilled, Lhamo began directing the guests into a line along the edge of the cobbled yard so they could pass by a small table before moving to the benches in the center. On the table was an aged, foot-high bronze figurine of the Mother Protectress and a small bronze brazier in which incense burned. A stack of white silk prayer scarves lay on the table beside a wooden bowl filled with yak milk. Lhamo insisted Tan stand at the front of the line but the colonel stood awkwardly immobile, not understanding. Lhamo laughed, then draped a prayer scarf around his neck and demonstrated how everyone was to dip their fingers in the milk and flick drops in the air, a gift to the gods.

At last the couples stood before Lokesh. The gentle old Tibetan had been excited when Shan had asked him to give the marriage vows, but he had grown increasingly nervous about his role, saying he did not know what to say or, to Shan’s surprise, what to wear. Lhamo had at first insisted he wear a monk’s maroon robe, but the old man had adamantly refused, stating he had never been properly ordained. At last Shiva and Yara had fashioned an old gown into something resembling the vestment of a senior Tibetan official and had somehow even managed to find one of the squared caps worn by such officials. It was faded and tattered, but the old man had seemed to grow taller as Shiva had set it on his head.

When the assembly finally quieted, Lokesh extended his arms and each couple closed their hands around one of his. “Let us bear witness to the wholeness of our existence,” he declared. “Let us bear witness to the triumph of love and compassion over the uncertainty of all life.” A tear of joy rolled down the old man’s cheek, and for a moment he seemed unable to speak. Then he cleared his throat and nodded. “It is done,” he announced with a nod to each couple. “You are one.”

Lhamo stepped forward with fresh bowls of milk, which each bride drank, to the cheers of the Tibetans. Gifts were then announced, beginning with the elegant astrological chart that Shiva presented to each couple. At the top of each was a pair of leaping fish, the symbol of conjugal happiness. As the bottom was a carefully inscribed verse from a traditional wedding song. The man is like the sun, the girl is like the full moon, it said. When the sun and the moon meet, there is happiness in the village.