Photos and videos are not allowed inside the halls, but we were allowed to enter.

In fact, we got some smiles from a handful of the rows and rows of monks who were inside, as we made our way as discretely as we could, from the door to some cushions by the wall.

Two blocks of monks sat facing each other. four rows of robed men and boys, on each side of the temple. The front row had drums, and a few wind instruments were played in the back rows.

Up the front, one very auspicious looking gentleman led them all. His throat singing deeper than I thought possible. In front of each monk, pages and pages of loose leaves with what looked like hand written prayers. Without direction, the instruments and drums instinctively played, the rhythm accelerating and the chanting building, and suddenly, they stop. A short lull. Then, again, the scores of monks continue in slow deep tones.

We had been in there fifteen minutes or so, but they had been obviously going for quite some time, when the instruments were laid down. Quietly, a few monks weaved in and out, carrying large flasks of hot tea, and baskets of bread or cake, and served some refreshment to those who had been praying. This pause was not long. Ten minutes or so, and then, they began again.