TIGER LEAPING GORGE

We walk old town after we get back to Jiliang. The town square is teeming with people from everywhere. There are performers and  a hodge-podge of eating places. We witness a rat being carried out of a candy shop with a tongs.

If only we could speak the language. What tales might this fellow tell?

You have to cross the moat on makeshift boards in some places to visit a shop.

Like this Chinese couple we could have had “fast food”, but instead we chose to dine at crowded tables along the moat for our evening meal.

We choose various sticks of vegetables and meat served with a small wok of  hot oil to cook it in. Safe!  We avoid the snails, pig tails, pigs  feet, crickets, grasshoppers, ants, beetles, lizard  and the ever popular dog meat, even though the Naxi love their pets. Maybe they love them too much.  Vicki buys an unattractive looking bean cake with spices for all of us to taste and it is delicious. Sweets in this part of China have been very good. Our last night in Jiliang, reluctant to let go, we enjoy the street  party until 11 p.m.

In the morning, we take the bus up the mountain again, this time to view Tiger Leaping Gorge. The gorge is on the Yangtze and stretches about 10 miles  along the Chinese and Tibetan border. The Chinese claim it is the  deepest canyon in the world and are planning to obliterate it and build a dam. This gorge is also a UNESCO site.  We are hooked up with a rickshaw driver for the two miles up  the canyon.

We get our first look at what is ahead.

The rickshaw journey ends at the spot where the Emperor went hunting and aimed at a tiger. It escaped by jumping across the gorge at one of its narrowest points. Thus the name of the gorge. The gorge may have been narrower then, but from what we could see, no animal could have jumped the 70-75 feet across the gorge.

On the return, we pay our drivers off and tell them we’d rather walk. The canyon is beautiful but the road is ever more fascinating, chiseled out of solid stone.

At one point I tried to get an idea how the railing was attached to the wall.

Leaning over, I could barely see  the super structure.  For the  most part the posts seem to be sunk into the solid rock and you wonder how they built this marvelous road without huge machinery.

In some places the posts seem perilously close to a disintegrating edge. And, in fact, at one spot in our two-mile stretch, soldiers stood guard to prevent anyone from wandering too close to the edge.

We came to a spot where the road continues down an adjoining canyon, blocked to us.  Vicki says backpackers go everywhere in the canyon.Far below us, the water rushes and sings over the rocks.

In other places it is calm and serene. Always beautiful.

At every turn in the road is another sheer wall tapestry of rock formations. Tomorrow we leave this area for Kumning.

TIGER PENIS AND COBRA WHISKEY? WHERE AM I?

Myanmar, which used to be Burma, is surrounded by Thailand, China, Laos, India and the Bay of Bengal. It has only recently been opened for limited tourism after a long period of isolation. It is probably the least changed Asian country, though the people here tend to dress in western clothing. Panu expedited our border crossing into the town of Tachilek, took care of our passports, got them stamped and zoom, we were in. While waiting I photographed this guy on a motor scooter carrying a mattress on a trailer over the bridge and into Myanmar. The motor scooter is the cheapest and most common method of transportation for the average person in all of these countries.

Shoulder poles to carry goods are much in evidence here, something rarely seen in Thailand.

Common market items dried persimmons and chestnuts.

This well dressed gent with his cheeroot passed by me before I could get a good focus on him.

Dog meat in the market place was a distasteful, yet compelling sight for us.

These old singers have been here for many, many years, no doubt.
We took a walk through the town headed for the rickshaw station. We stopped at this school. Notice the outdoor toilet out in back.

The playground had tire swings, a dirt yard and a bamboo made climbing apparatus.

These children on the streets looked to be playing a dice game without the dice. They would throw down the rinds or bones and scramble for the winning throw, chattering madly the whole while. Notice the Mickey Mouse shirt.

Children happily run a stick over an old tire and roll it along expertly.

The children seem healthy but this is a poor country. This woman was attending her washing next to her house.

We reached the rickshaw station and loaded into motorized rickshaws for a ride to the Shan Temple.

At the temple, we paid 30 baht to a young girl or boy to take us through the temple rituals. Many women and girls paint their faces with a chalky powder for the beauty of it. This was the only boy I saw painted thus. He approached me with flowers and a small bamboo cage with a live bird in it.

Everyone in our group was individually led to the particular shrine that relates to their birth. For me, the year of the dragon, Wednesday.

You place the flowers, pour water over several effigies, three times, then release the bird as I am doing above. The bird flew away so fast, the child could not get its picture.

Then you return to the temple bell and ring it three times and your ritual is complete. From there you can go inside to pray where there are Budda from India, China and Thailand.

The huge Shan Temple above.
We returned to Thailand and loaded into farmer La Valles truck for a long dusty, bumpy drive into the mountains for a lovely outdoor lunch.

Fresh tilapia or chicken was on the menu along with some wonderful mystery stew that was delicious.

Innovation is always on display in these countries. The flower pot sink and below that,  the paint job on the mens.

When we loaded back into the truck, the driver cut me pieces of bamboo to cook on at home. This farmer/artist enhances income by allowing tourists on the farm.

From Thailand, one can see across the Mekong River a small section of Loas. Many people stray over there without a passport because the town is remote from government and the people need the income for the stuff they sell.

We began our boat tour and stopped for a short half hour in Loas. Here a sign greeted us in the market.

The tiger penis in whiskey. Next to it a jar with two cobras also marinated in whiskey.
It tasted like whiskey with an odd flavor. Not anything I could compare it to. I figured the whiskey would preserve anything in it. Hey, they have worms in tequilla. I guess you can tell this isn’t Kansas.