I made the mistake of opening an urn-type thing on the kitchen table. There were some strange white slabs inside. 'What's this?" I asked. "Dried yak cheese," Tenzin replied. "For the tea. This morning, I think your tea was not so good. Tomorrow you can put the yak cheese in it, and it will be delicious."

I think my host family is trying to set me up with their nephew Tsultrim. He came over last night for dinner and made momos, Tibetan dumplings filled with potato (or yak meat). "He's a very good cook," my host mother said encouragingly. "And handsome."

It was hard to follow the rest of the dinner conversation though, because it was in Tibetan. So far I know two words, "foreign girl" and "yak."