Sapa

Men at the water buffalo market

Just a night train (and a windy mini-bus) ride away from Hanoi lies the cozy, resort-style mountain town of Sapa.  This is the place to trek to meet Vietnam's ethnic minorities, eat Western versions of Vietnamese classics (and a few undiscovered delights), and to explore surrounding villages and markets.

We spent one day in Bac Ha, a small town known for its Sunday market.  This market was unlike anything we had ever seen before.  Every Sunday, villagers from the surrounding hill tribes make the trek into the "big city" to sell their wares, buy or sell livestock, and stock up on everyday items.  Aside from the typical offerings of hardware, clothes,

Bac Ha market in full swing

produce, freshly slaughtered meat, and the odd souvenir stall, this market also had an extensive livestock section with dogs, pigs (more than a few of which we saw unhappily tied to a motorbike), chickens, horses, and water buffalo.  What also set this market apart from so many others is the colorful presence of the beautifully dressed Flower H'Mong.  One young lady pinched Annette's arm and brushed it a few times with her index finger to make sure that her pale skin was real (we think).  Even as she did so, we wanted to pinch ourselves to make sure we weren't dreaming, as the vivid colors and swirling energy made the market feel wonderfully surreal.

A Flower H'Mong woman rubs Annette's arm, surprised by her white skin

Water buffalo at Bac Ha market

Most people who visit Sapa do so to go trekking to small minority mountain villages, all surrounded by lush forest and unbelievable rice terraces, so we jumped on the bandwagon and signed up for a trek.  There are two treks you can sign up for at Sapa's excellent information office, and we chose the route less traveled by tourists.  Good choice!  We saw less than ten Westerners all day and were treated to the attention of villagers who had not yet been desensitized to the sight of tourists.

The little girl in front was the leader of these three attention-lovers

Our guide Tze and her three friendly, sales-lady friends

In the town of Sapa H'Mong women follow tourists everywhere joking and pleading for them to "Buy something from me."  We had three lovely and smile-prone ladies follow us for the first three hours of our trek.  They didn't try to sell us one thing until we sat sown for lunch.  We bought a few items and they threw in a photo shoot, four woven bracelets, and three grass horses for free.

Some of our favorite moments on our journey have been the ones we don't expect.  We didn't expect, for example, to spend half an hour in a H'Mong house in a tiny village outside of Sapa.  But our guide, Tze, finished our five hour guided trek at her home, where we were entertained by her three beautiful children and six puppies.  The entire trek was memorable because of the playful and curious children, enchanting scenery, and our lovely guide.  But the opportunity to have a conversation with her in her home (while playing some version of tag that involved the children trying to run by Jeff without being touched) was truly special.

"Don't-get-touched-by-the-foreigner" tag

We and Tze make three

Loving Laos: Luang Nam Tha

Luang Nam Tha is a big eco-trekking destination in South East Asia.  And for good reason.  It is easy to book a trek that is led by a local guide to one of the many surrounding villages.  Many of the (legit) companies work hard to keep the environmental impact of this type of tourism to a minimum and give a percentage of their earnings to the villages visited on the treks.


Our particular trek was a two day, one night hike to a little-visited Lahu village.  Our fantastic guide told us the village had only been seeing tourists for about a year, and the way they gathered to watch us arrive, eat, sleep, and leave proved he was right.  The best part about visiting and sleeping in the village is that the villagers were (mostly) as interested in us as we were in them.  It was truly cool to wake up to several ladies standing in the door of our abode (a bamboo guesthouse) curiously watching us sleep and wake up.  In Laos all foreigners are called Falang.  Our guide told us that the villagers "Want to see how falang eat, how falang sleep - everything."


We felt blessed to have the opportunity to connect with the villagers, both verbally with the translation help of our guide after dinner with the son of the chief, and non-verbally by playing with the children.  The village has had electricity for only seven months.  Most of the huts now have refurbished solar panels so the families can have a light in the evenings.  We noticed some people had cell phones, but they seemed to be used mainly for playing a few favorite songs rather than phone calls.  The son of the chief told us that he and the other villagers liked the comforts of the modern world, but they couldn't afford them.  They are mostly subsistence farmers, growing all their own rice and supplementing their incomes by raising and selling pigs, chickens, dogs, and cows.

Everyone, us visitors and the villagers too, was shy at first but got more and more bold as our day went on.  The children were the first ones to warm up.  There is something universal about the vibrant energy of children.  They were making faces and flirting with us before most of the adults came back to the village from working in the rice fields during the day.  Jeff proved that being a goofball can be useful, as he used his ability to make a fool of himself to connect with the younger children.  Jumping on one leg, making faces, and playing "run past the white guy without getting touched," are excellent ways to break the ice.  Many of the adults would laugh and smile as we engaged their children in games and antics - including but not limited to copycat games and drawing in the dirt.  Everyone loves children.  We found communicating with them didn't need to involve language, and that as we connected with the children of the village, the adults opened up too.

Digital cameras were another god-send in communicating with our new friends.  Many of the villagers, but the children in particular, got a kick out of looking at their pictures after we took photos of them.  Despite the extreme differences of the lives of the Lahu and our own lives back home, our interactions with these children confirmed what we had been experiencing again and again on our trip: kids are kids everywhere.  They're shy, they laugh, they find joy in the simplest of pleasures, and each has their own unique personality.

Laos is one of the 20 poorest nations in the world.  We saw many ranges of life-styles, from modern homes to makeshift bamboo shacks, as we traveled the country by bus and foot.  There are some non-profit groups and other organizations that are working hard to make a difference, but for the most part life is hard for many Laotians.   Despite the extreme poverty, we found most people to be unbelievably kind and warm.  The people in the Lahu village were no exception.  They were truly glad to have us visit them, and we felt honored to have the chance to do so.   The experience of staying at the village and learning about how they live made us feel closer to Laos and it's amazing people.  We left home hoping this trip would change us and trekking out of Luang Nam Tha is an example of how quickly and unexpectedly those changes can happen.  We came back down from our trek thinking a bit differently about our own lives.