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We recently wanted to head off & explore the 'remote' northwest area of Vietnam.
The region, which borders China & Laos, is known for its multitude of
colourful
minority groups & endless stunning scenery. Kylie, Amy, Amber & I hired a 4wd, a
local driver & set off with a carefully planned route mapped out before us.
There's a standard loop that people take, but just to be different we chose to
do it backwards.
The trip didn't turn out quite as any of us really expected. We'd planned for
time spent meeting hilltribe villagers. We expected time to explore the villages
we were visiting and to have stories to tell & photos to show from our unique &
remote 4WD adventure. Perhaps we could have all done more research; perhaps we
could have been warned. As it turned out, we spent the vast majority of our 4
night, 5 day trip in the car, speeding through remote villages, gawping at
locals through our 4wd windows rather than meeting them & forging friendships.
We had the option to stop wherever & whenever we wanted, but there's only so
many times you can stop the car, jump out, take a photo of a local & speed off
again. You generally gain little but guilt from snapping away at people with no
interaction at all, although because of the circumstances we did still take lots
of photos from the window as we sped past. It was often that or nothing. My
memory may be mistaken, but from what I remember, all but one day was spent in
its entirety in the car (save for a few photo op's & lunch). Most evenings we
arrived too late to really explore - it's dark by 6pm & with no street lights in
villages it's not easy to wander off into the darkness.
Despite all of that, there were of course still a few magical experiences along
the way:
We stopped in one village where we seemed to have enough time to walk around for
awhile & share a few moments interacting with the locals - mainly kids. There's
around 50 minority groups in the area, the people in this village were Black
Thai, & I soon realised that I could understand the odd word of what they said.
I don't know much Thai, but I can count pretty well & I can say a handful of
other randomly useful things. Although we were far from Thailand, the Black Thai
speak a variation of the Thai language & thus I was able to utter a few words
that were mutually understood. There's something quite satisfiying about
realising you can communicate where you least expect it - even if it isn't much.
We spent awhile amusing & being amused by the kids & looking around the village.
It was built on a river with beautiful views as far as the eye could see. In
most of the villages woman (& children) carry babies in a very basic kind of
backpack, really just a piece of material sewn together in a special way. We
were keen to buy one, perhaps as a present, perhaps for us someday. At a market
stall there was a baby, but no sign of the backpack things. I know I said I can
speak a little Thai, but hard as I tried to describe what we waned to buy, it
was soon apparent that they thought we wanted to buy the baby. The woman who's
baby it was ran out of sight, perhaps in fear. Eventually we all made sense of
each other & there was laughing all around. This simple interaction is what I
craved from the whole trip.
Our first night was spent in
Sapa, a famous & popular tourist resort not far
from the Chinese border. On the way we stopped at the border crossing & looked
on - we were in the exact same spot as we'd been when we arrived from China four
weeks ago to the day. Somehow we'd travelled so far yet not really progressed at
all.
We hadn't heard good reports of Sapa so chose not to stay any longer than
absolutely necessary. It seemed a pretty pleasant place, the people friendly &
some of the food delicious. In the 'Friendly Cafe' (which it was), we ordered
some vegetarian spring rolls. We suspected that they had meat in them, so asked
the woman there if there was. She went to the kitchen & came back with a hunk of
fresh meat. 'This' she said, 'is what meat looks like' - it was as if she
thought we had never seen meat before & needed a visual demonstration of what
meat really looked like.
Sapa is very close to
Mt Fansipan, one of the tallest mountains in South East
Asia. Apparently the whole area is surrounded by lush rice terraces, mountains &
hills. Sadly all we saw was rain & cloud. Fortunately some kind of weather
forcefield exists just round the corner from Fansipan & although the views on
the far side aren't so stunning, the weather normally is.
Mr Binh, our driver spoke very little English. I forget the reasoning behind it,
but when we made the car & driver arrangements, I'd been assured that it was
actually better to have a driver that didn't speak much English. He did seem to
speak various local languages which was useful & I guess what's really most
important is that he's a good driver anyway (& he generally was, the only
incident being when we ran over a child's foot).
On our second day we were planning to spend the night in
Lai Chau, an
anticipated 8 or so hour drive from Sapa. So when we passed through a place
called Lai Chau after about 3 hours we were slightly confused & concerned. Mr
Binh was determined to keep driving even though we all knew that the signs said
we'd just passed through Lai Chau. He pulled over & drew imaginary maps on the
windscreen. We had no idea what he seemed to be going on about & he drove on. As
it happens they've decided to change all the names of the places in the area.
This place had been the newLai Chau, the old one was still many hours away.
Old Lai Chau is a small one street town in a long valley, with yet more stunning
views all around. It was here that we realised just how much they are into
eating dogs in Vietnam. Cho (or Cay in the south) means dog in Vietnamese, and
once we'd worked out what it meant, we saw it just about everywhere we went.
People are fond of dogs, almost everyone seems to have a pet dog, although
normally something small & cute like a Pekinese. It didn't take long to realise
however that most of the bigger dogs in Lai Chau were not cute. Neither were
they very friendly. After an interesting walk just out of the town into a
peaceful & friendly village, I found myself contentedly walking back alone to
meet the others in the absolute pitch black. Two dogs came for me, big white
salivating jaws clearly visible; their barking the most ferocious I've heard in
years. Eventually a local scared them off. Early the next morning on peaceful
stroll through another village we were confronted with more unfriendly barking &
ready to bite dogs. They must know that some day soon they will be someone's
dinner. If only they knew I was vegetarian.
From Lai Chau we drove via
Dien Bien Phu to
Son La for a night, & then on to
Mai Chau. Over the course of the four days we passed numerous villages &
hundreds of locals. Each minority wears a different style of clothing & many
villages live in differently designed types of hut. The clothes are almost all
very colourful, with headresses & jewellery. Although in Mai Chau they no longer
dress as they used to, they live in stilt houses, raised a few metres above the
ground, and they've created quite a good little business by opening their homes
to travellers. This is no rustic hilltribe experience, they have electricity &
running water these days, but it still makes a change from what we are used to.
We slept in a large open shared room with a beautiful view that looked out
directly onto the rice fields. Finally we had time to relax & explore too. For
the second time on the trip, I found myself at some kind of kindergarden or
school. Again these small moments are what make the trip worthwhile. In the
first place Amber & I had been invited in & took lots of photos that we promised
to send to them. Before we left I picked up a very cute toddler. She was
perfectly happy to be held & decided to amuse myself by pretending to leave with
her. She didn't resist & the staff just nodded as if to say 'okay, take her Much
as I was tempted, I didn't but I've no idea how far I would have got before
someone would have stopped me.
In my previous travels through Asia I've come across many many villagers &
peasants, and the one thing that always seems to be constant is that however
poor these people are, they appear to be happy. They live with their families,
they live off of the land around them. They have no desire to drive big cars,
eat at McDonalds or shop at big supermarkets. Yet for some reason it's assumed
that this western idea of happiness is what everyone really needs. |
