I've moved in with my Tibetan homestay family. I'm back in Shangri-La for the third time (I just can't stay away!). Tenzin, my host father, is one of the most successful men in town, I'm discovering. A few weeks ago I haggled a bit more aggressively than I should have for a scarf, only to find out that it was my host father's store and I would be eating breakfast every day with the girl I had tried to take down. Tenzin also co-owns my favorite restaurant in town, has a travel agency, and is working with an American client to have Citigroup invest in a hotel project in Deqin. He grew up as a nomad in the Tibetan part of Sichuan province, lived in India, and speaks Tibetan, Chinese, English, Hindi, and Nepali. I even googled him.

This is all very different since my last homestay father was a bean farmer.

His house is absolutely beautiful, a traditional Tibetan lodge with textiles and dark wood, with a huge living room where everyone hangs out. Last night we watched a Tibetan documentary in which a man drowned in quicksand. The best part is Tenzin's little white Tibetan puppy Dunba, who likes to lie on his back and wave his little paws at me.

I had yak butter tea for breakfast, per Tibetan tradition. I love yaks, but I wish they would stay out of my morning beverage.

Last night I met up with Sam and Ashley, who have been living at the Tanka Center for the past few weeks. They have to teach English every night to the Tibetan students at the center. I watched Sam with his white board, drawing pictures of every fruit he could think of while his student achingly repeated, "honeydew...lemon?" Ashley was very cute in her Tibetan uniform, frolicking with her new friends. She apparently spends six hours a day learning to draw from the head monk of the center.

last night we went to the "disco" in the town square, where all the villagers get together every night and dance to Tibetan music in a big circle. I tried to follow the moves of a man in a mustache and fedora.