The trinket shop was run by one of the dancers we happened upon at the restaurant Pilier the night before, entertaining three or four tour groups' worth of eclipse chasers on their way out of town forever. They recognized me, since I ended up directly at stage left so close they brushed against my ungainly western camera when they exited, and I recognized the phrenological type although not the individuals since it was dark, and they had been dressed in feathers and bangles, and painted with yellow stripes. This is their day job. They invited us in for tea.