Despite the folds of light golden fabric wrapped around their legs and their strategically almost-shaved heads, they looked like a couple of frat guys on a dare. Drawn by the piercing rhythmic clang of the cymbals, I watched them approach the square. They wore collared button-downs, well-fitting jeans under their robes and wholesome smiles that turned sheepish upon realizing that in order to make the most of their energies, they.. Read More