It Isn't remembers a trip to Zanskar. “As I write this, it would be winter in Zanskar. I imagine those people sitting in there around the stove during these long winter months, drinking chang and tea, maybe reading a book of scriptures, looking at the vast landscape of white sorrounding them, talking in mild tones, sharing old stories again, sometimes scolding a particularly annoying kid, sometimes worried about the dwindling supplies for cattle, sometimes worried about someone's illness.”