After being jostled for several hours while blindfolded, I was dismounted from the horse and, when the blindfold was removed, I bowed to the people who were presumably there to greet me. The reason I say "presumably" is because, without exception, every single one of them was wearing a head covering made from an animal skull, and I couldn't make eye contact with a single person. A god dwells within the eyes. Making eye contact is the first step to acknowledging another person, and upon coming of age, you get an eye tattoo on your palm and gain your own personal god. I had spent my days dreaming of an unseen partner, imagining the day we would become adults and touch the gods in each other's palms together. But the spirit with which I had gladly accepted the custom of exchanging newly adult youths with the tribe from the neighboring mountain, thinking it would help my family, began to wilt as the reality of being thrown into a world with different values set in. A man of particularly large build quietly approached me, then walked away, looking back frequently. Realizing I was being guided, I followed him, and he led me to one of the wooden huts.