As I drank my milk-tea the next morning, I watched “The Egg Lady” start their fire with small branches and pieces of wood, and cooked in blackened pots balanced between rocks. She wore the typical Tibetan chuba, a black robe reaching from her shoulders to the top of her flimsy green Chinese sneakers, held together with a wide belt made of multi-coloured cloth on the back and silvery metal on the front, a long dark apron, and bright green long sleeved top. Her hair was braided and held in a bun with a coloured piece of cloth. The other six were still under their blankets beneath the tarp, all huddled close together sleeping head to head crossways.