STONE DRUM RESTAURANT

We leave Jiliang on the bus. Scenic villages, cows, horses, yaks and donkeys over-laden, hauling goods on the road.  Many children hanging drying baskets of  corn or grain outside. Terraced gardens and fields follow the river. We look back at the snow capped Himalayan peak marveling at its beauty and that we were there.

We stop at Stone Drum Town, a Naxi village for lunch at the Stone Drum restaurant. In the courtyard are many tables filled with Naxi people.

Except, none of them are eating lunch. They are playing majong, dice, dominoes, or cards as though it is a holiday.

The faces are animated and noticeably, none are young. Vicki claims this is very unusual and asks around. She learns that a government official is due in the village and will speak to the elders today. They are waiting for him while we lunch.

The eating area was separated from the courtyard by a curtain of chili peppers.

I managed to get two  pictures of the open-air restaurant kitchen, the cooking area…

And the pantry. I didn’t see a refrigerator, but they must have one. This is an inland village and the only place we ate that didn’t have fish on the menu. Service here is more casual than city restaurants and the foods simpler but still delicious.

It was a photo bonanza for us, the magnificent faces, the interplay at the tables, the rapt concentration on their games.

I saw two men smoking an opium pipe.

They were very attentive when their speaker arrived. What is he saying, I asked Vicki. “Oh, just  lot of government propaganda. We all laughed. Same as home!

We had fifteen minutes to walk around and stretch our legs before getting back on the bus. Wanning tried to talk with this bent over little man. She speaks Chinese but couldn’t understand the language  even with the help of another Chinese  fellow.

Again, the Naxi were not the least bit shy about having their pictures taken and indicated to me they wanted to see the results; obviously familiar with digital cameras.

This fellow wanted to sell me a stool he had made.  I could only take a picture.

After we loaded into the bus, this woman was seeking to sell trinkets through the windows. Vicki called her a beggar and told us it is very unusual to find a beggar in a remote village like this one. Vicki didn’t want us to buy from her and the bus drove off before any transactions could be made. We are headed for the airport to take us to Kunming.  More tomorrow.

POKER PARY

If you are going to have a poker party, you may as well be comfortable. You may think Janet and Becky are wearing their pajamas? Right you are! Pajamas are comfortable.

Janice and Jerry hosted with flair, wearing feather boas over their pajamas. The popcorn and nuts, (not Sallie and Karen) were at the table. The money stacked, the dealer called the game. We played 7 card no peekie, 5 card stud, 7 card stud, five card draw, each game a bit different and quite fun. Sallie was the wicked high better, risk taker. There's one in every game. She upped the bet as much as a quarter!!

Someone had to get the boobie prize. But it wasn't me. I came as a floozie. Karen got the boobie prize. I've played poker a time or two in the past, but so few times I needed a cheat sheet to tell me what configuration of cards beat others. I may even have won the most money. What a thrill. The pots were in the neighborhood of one or two dollars. Nobody was counting. If you folded too soon, someone would put in for you to keep you in the game. Its probably safe to say it wasn't a conventional poker game.

Everyone was a winner, with good food, good company and good fun.

TWO DIFFERENT CITIES- DAY AND NIGHT

Most cities are different during the day than at night. But the contrasts in Reno are greater. My goal yesterday  was the Museum of Fine Arts on Liberty Street. Since Jim and Randy went off to see what is left of Bill Harrah's Auto Collection, I decided high art would be my game. Unfortunately, the museum was closed.  I roamed around town, poking my head in here and there. The Spy Shop intrigued me. The owner told me he had surveillance stuff and self defense items of every kind for men and women. Not my cup of tea, but I loved the sign.

 Speaking of my cup of tea, this pretty blue teapot caught my eye in an Antiques Mall. There was so much stuff crammed in the place, with 180 vendors, you could hardly see anything, except in  the furniture section.

I liked these chairs, but, they don't fit in a motor home. Living in a motor home squelches your impulse purchases, which I like.

This steel sculpture resembles a giant fish and I liked it. Its better seen in its grand scheme as it sits in front of the Reno Court House.

I was tempted to visit Filthy McNasty's just for the hell of it. The name made me chuckle, but I wasn't in the mood for a brew just then. Instead I returned home to program  my new Digital Picture Frame I bought yesterday.

 Reno at night is another world. The strip, only a shadow of its former self, is still a wealth of neon glitz. There was a time when it was considered garrish, and rightly so. It fits the whole concept of risque mystique. The sideshows, gambling, girls, burlesque, high rollers, rich and famous headliners, music, cards, money, slots, dice, cheap eats, elegant dining, topless dancing... excitement. Reno called everyone before Vegas came of age.
The  arch was my very first view of Reno from the passenger train that moved our family from Milwaukee to California in 1954.

The adult caberets...

Betting the horses, the football games, you name it...

The best show...

The best food...

 

The best bet...

The best fun...

The best hotel...

A bank on every corner and in Reno, money to loan is "Lucky" money.
My husband loved to gamble. It was one of his favorite towns and I was surprised at how many cherished memories I have of this gutsy city of thrills.

WASHINGTON, LA, ANTIQUES MECCA

Opelousas, Louisiana was once the Capital of the state, for a brief period during the Civil War and nearby Washington was a busy steamboat port, sending cotton out and bringing in needed goods and equipment.

Washington is a sleepy little place, especially on Sunday when most businesses close there doors for Church and family. They have several fine historical buildings one with the original slate roof. Makes me wonder why we use anything but slate?
A grand old steamboat warehouse survived and has been converted to a restaurant.



The old wooden hasp on the warehouse door.
The old Washington schoolhouse, the Mudd family home and several other places have been turned over to Antiques and the town is known as an antique mecca by locals. Looking through antique stores is much like looking back through history.

I sincerely can’t imagine the chair above in an ordinary home, even an antebellum mansion. Makes me wonder, where did it come from? Who did it belong too? Who sat in it?

I would have bought this beautiful stained glass but it wouldn’t fit in the motor home. I settled for something smaller.

I collect old decks of cards, a habit (collecting) I’m trying to break. These old Civil War era cards remind me how little the kings and queens of playing cards have changed over the years. With video games, television and other exciting attractions, kids don’t play cards much anymore.
During my own childhood, when relatives came to visit, the adults played cards and we cousins were able to run wild with less supervision then usual. My own kids and grandchildren are avid card players and I expect the tradition will continue in some families, anyway.
Today, we move on to Arnaudville.