Where the weary lay their bones

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Having just returned from our second morning tour, both Michelle and I have flung ourselves onto the bed, exhausted. This mornings tour took us hiking through two rural villages. Beginning with a thirty minute drive south we set out on foot from Muong Hoa valley, a stunning place boasting the largest terraced rice fields in Vietnam. Coincidently our visit coincided with the beginning of the local planting season so we were both looking forward to seeing the farmers in action. The walk took us through Lao Chai village of the Black H’mong minority to Ta Van village of the Giay minority.

We awoke the morning to a very cool Vietnam. Dark clouds loomed over the mountain range view from our bedroom window, hazing out the detail of the terraced rice fields in the distance. By the time we left for breakfast in the main restraint the mountain range had been completely absorbed by the looming clouds. The morning weather seemed better suited for a snuggle in bed rather than trekking into the directions of where the mountains once were.

By nine o’clock we were ready to go, or at least that is what I thought; Michelle had her umbrella, and I had a poncho and a smaller poncho that I had made for the camera. Our guide arrived shortly after with an umbrella and proudly pointing out her shiny blue wellington boots, thinking we were crazy for choosing to walk around today in joggers.

The drive to Muong Hoa valley was incredible, the view of the valley simply majestic. Despite there still being rather heavy rain clouds running through the valley, the scale of the valley itself was very impressive. The driver pulled off the road to where our hike was to begin. We had stopped at the entrance of a 5km long hilly and windy clay road. The clay road was heavily eroded by the water running down it, the road was more a combination of clay, rocks and small streams than a road. At this entrance, soaked to the bone from the recent rain were a group of Black H’mong women with baskets of goodies strapped to their backs to sell to passing tourists. Just moments from opening our car door to get out, our guide turned to us, ‘these girls are going to try and sell you things... just say no’ and with that exited the car. After exchanging glances with Michelle I turned back to my own door and was immediately taken back by the dozen or so inquisitive faces peering through the window. Taking in a deep breath I pushed the door open and waded through the thick crowd, not turning back until i had made it through. Fortunately, Michelle wasn’t too far behind me, and our guide was already on the move making her way down the steep path before us.

Even the locals on their motorbikes had trouble dealing with the conditions of this road, with one coming off his bike after losing control in the thick clay. I was quickly convinced that at some point during this hike one if not both of us will slide down are arses at some point due to the unforgiving nature of the clay and lose rocks beneath our feet. The sky above us was still rather dark, and every now and then a quick shower would break out above us, I just smiled, I didn’t care; as long as my camera stayed dry and I didn’t fall on my arse, I didn’t mind. With each down pour the clouds slowly began to fade, like a veil being pulled back revealing the beauty of the rural landscape before us. You could now see the path we were on winding its way down the mountain that we started from, disappearing into the villages below before coming back up the far side of the valley. Along the mountain scarps were terraced rice fields, stretching out all the way down into the valley and out towards the horizon as far as the eye could see.

Out of the Black H’mong mob that followed us from the car only one remained with us now, her name was ‘Soongh’, in her 50’s, though her face was hard and wrinkled, reflecting the struggles of living in such a rural area. Unlike the younger girls, Soongh was far more patient and enjoyed trekking with two westerners just as much as I enjoyed the incredible country scenery which had now surrounded us as we made our way further into the valley. We eventually arrived into the Black H’mong village, Soongh’s village. The walk to this point had been very close to nature, exactly how I had imagined Sapa was. After the pleasant conversations with Soongh and her helping Michelle over the streams when the road became more water than clay or rock, I figured it was good karma if nothing else to show her our appreciation in some monetary form, and since I wasn’t particularly interested in any of the items she was selling, I offered her some money to be a part of a photograph, with her village in the back drop. She was quite grateful and gave us each a small bracelet as a memento.

From the Black H’mong village we continued on into the Giay minority village. Both the villages were rather self containing, with a lot of the money required for sustaining the village coming from the produce of the land and tourism. The sun had began to peek at this time and the typical Vietnamese heat started to kick in, looking back up the valley into the mountains from where we left the car it was clear we were still only two thirds through this hike. Though, despite the heat, and the exhaustion from having to very carefully navigate the ‘road’, the views were simply breath taking. At every bend in the road was something new. From motorbikes carrying payloads of sticks and banana leaves, to women washing the grass in a nearby stream to feed the pigs, to the children playing with empty soda cans, it was a humbling experience. Just before our tour came to an end, we stopped by a primary school and peered into a class. It was practically like any other class we had seen, children sitting at their desks, exercise books out and scribbling away. I looked out back towards the valley, what a beautiful area for a child to grow up in.

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Photos

Navigating the road
Our guide, Michelle and Soongh

Comments

[Karen]

So much in so little time. You are both obviously making the most of every opportunity.