The Sa Pa Life and Dog For Dinner

Reaching Vietnam’s northern mountain town of Sa Pa was like taking a much need breath of fresh air- literally. No more of Hanoi’s exhaust and pollution- just clean mountain air surrounded by a place of immaculate beauty. I had originally planned on only staying for 3 days in lovely Sa Pa and ended up lingering for 8 soaking up the relaxing life of the hill tribes.

My days were filled with wonderfully strenuous hikes through the most stunning countryside I have seen in Southeast Asia. I loved watching the small tribal boys, that couldn’t have been more than 9-years-old, herd enormous water buffalo around their land- the massive beasts obeying their tiny masters dutifully. Or observing the women, knee deep in mud, working the rice paddies flooded in golden sunlight. Each day I would stumbling upon breathtaking views, as I got lost on several occasions, looking for remote villages to explore and I couldn’t help but to stare at the tiny, old, wrinkled ladies carrying impossibly heavy loads on their backs up the steep trails, slick with red clay.

Visiting the town’s popular street market was a routine excursion and always entertaining. Livestock would be herded down the main street while the women try to sell their handmade goods decorated with colorful, intricate designs.

There are around 8 different tribes that reside in the mountains surrounding Sa Pa. I became closest with women from the H-Mong tribe. Women from this tribe wear huge, heavy necklaces, several large hoop earrings in each ear and they wrap their waist length hair around their heads- wearing it like a crown. Most marry at the age of fifteen and many have one or two children in tow before they reach twenty. Their arms and hands are generally stained indigo from dying their handmade clothes- something that looked almost like a uniform because everyone wore the same exact thing- and they are tiny! For the first time in my life I felt tall- like a giant actually- walking next to these fiercely strong, little women who barely reached the shoulders of my 5’3” frame.

One wonderful afternoon I befriended a pint-sized girl from the this tribe who took me to her home a mere 8 miles away. 10-year-old Maya walked with ease, never once slowed down or took a break and carried a basket on her back that had to have weighed about 20 pounds. When we reached her home- a wooden shack nested into a cluster of bamboo trees with a million dollar view- I couldn’t wait to sit down and rest my weary legs while she proceeded to race around the house cooking me lunch!

I found it terribly interesting that these hill tribes don’t consider themselves Vietnamese. Being so secluded and holding on so strongly to their rather ancient ways and traditions, I would have to agree- they were definitely different than the Vietnamese I had encountered in the rest of the country. They were a lot more welcoming, a lot more friendly and although they would hassle me to buy things from them- “no” actually worked as an answer and it wasn’t held against me. But what was most surprising was that these people who look so traditional, so primitive-like they haven’t changed in the last 100 years- spoke English very well!!

In addition to my daily wanderings it was incredibly gratifying to sleep in an environment where I wasn’t covered in sweat as I tried to get a good nights rest. Curling up beneath a cozy comforter was something, at the time, I didn’t realize how much I missed. It rained almost daily for an hour or two usually in the morning washing away all my guilt as I slept in late trying to recover from my strenuous journey though the rest of the country.

Anyway, it became sort of a joke among myself and a few people I had been traveling with when we saw something strange or unusual- we would laugh and say that you really see something new everyday… well here in Sa Pa I was out for one of my daily walks and watched a man put a skinned dog into a big pot of water- presumably their dinner. I had heard about the Vietnamese’s strange culinary tastes but I also heard dog has been off the menu for some time now. I almost vomited on the spot and began a fearful account of every meat dish I had eaten in Sa Pa- praying that this house wasn’t supplying the local restaurants with their special meat. I try really hard not to judge these different cultures I come in contact with but seriously- EEEEUUUWWWW!!!! No Fido fillets for me please!

It was so nice to end my time in Vietnam in the town of Sa Pa. Everyday, walking through such breathtaking scenery and among these peaceful people was an invigorating experience. I am always so amazed- well more like impressed- when I come across people who have the modern world knocking on their door and they refuse to answer. They appear perfectly content to live the way their great grandmothers did and although through our eyes they appear primitive I can’t help but feel a little envious of their undying pride.

Vietnam- Mekong to Hanoi

The three weeks I spent traveling from Vietnam’s Mekong Delta to Hanoi was, to put it mildly, a very trying time. At first glance Vietnam appears to be a country easy to travel through. A large part of their economy is based on tourism and they are very big into organized outings offering loads of cheap tours to the most popular destinations. Buses run, amazingly, on time and stop at the best places along the long, skinny country. However, it was incredible how difficult it was to communicate with these people who deal with foreigners on a daily basis. Simple questions, like “What time does my bus leave?” were met by blank stares at so-called tourist information booths and even exaggerated hand gestures, like pretending to shovel food into my mouth when I was looking for a restaurant, only produced more confused faces. I guess the fact that only about 20% of Vietnamese get an education has something to do with this but Vietnam is the seventh country I have visited so far on this trip and it has definitely been the most difficult and disappointing.

Besides the impossible language barrier I was also very saddened by the bulk of people I met. Every single day I had to fight for a decent price on a bottle of water and every time I made a purchase I had to carefully count my change which more than 90% of the time was wrong- the person always trying to short change me. Once a restaurant even tried to charge me extra for the napkin I used even though this mysterious charge was not listed on the menu. All these little petty extra fees left me with a bad taste in my mouth. As a tourist you are already paying at least three times the local price but it’s still really cheap on our standards so you don’t mind paying- but when they are constantly trying to take more and more, even if it’s just a few cents, it makes you feel so used, so targeted, like your really being taken advantage of. The blatant exploitation of tourists was really irritating and unfortunately left me a little disheartened about the country as a whole.

Ok- now that I’ve vented about the things that made me want to pull my hair out- it would be unfair to say that my whole experience here was abysmal. There were many wonderful, special experiences- pockets of the beauty I was expecting to see- that helped lift my spirits.

For instance, I really enjoyed getting a glimpse into the daily lives of the people who live on the Mekong Delta’s floating markets. Boat owners serve as middlemen between farmers and consumers on the river and these markets are the main way farmers sell their crops. It is extremely cost effective for farmers to transport their goods by water and by selling on the river they avoiding paying a hefty government tax land vendors have to pay. Generations of families are raised on these boats that putter up and down the massive river bartering vegetables and fruit. When children are grown and marry they move off of the family boat, buy their own and the process starts all over again. The long wooden boats are adorned with laundry hanging from clotheslines and children napping in hammocks that sway like cradles on the gently rocking vessels.

While visiting Ho Chi Minh- or as the locals still refer to it, Saigon, I felt morally obligated to visit the historic war museum which left me feeling worse than learning about the atrocities that occurred in Cambodia. This was probably because the horrors on display were a direct result of our country. I know both sides committed disgusting and horrible acts during the war and both countries suffered greatly. However, I was horrified seeing the effects of our use of napalm and Agent Orange- it seems so much more inhumane, so much more evil to attack the environment and use chemical warfare than just our standard, deadly bombs and guns. There are people still being affected by Agent Orange today and parts of their environment still haven’t fully recovered from our aggressive attacks.

Coming up the coast Mui Ne’s wonderfully barren sand dunes and fishing villages with tiny basket boats kept my camera happy and a few days exploring the superb lakes, waterfalls and evergreens of the cool mountain town, Dalat, was a welcome change to the sweltering coast.

Hoi An has a sublime beach dotted with palm trees and it was easy falling into pace with the mellow old town ambiance. The old town’s colorful buildings are swarming with tailors that will make anything and everything for you at a ridiculously low cost. I was ecstatic at the thought of having a dress handmade for me and what should have been a fun experience turned out disastrous. A pounding headache and four alterations later I ended up with a very risky looking number that I will probably only wear if I decide to dress as a hoochie Asian girl for Halloween!!! YIKES!

Exploring the many caves and temples of the Marble Mountains was an unforgettable afternoon and appreciating the captivating limestone formations during a relaxing boat ride up the Ngo Dong river in Tam Coc helped me forget the everyday annoyances I was facing- at least for a little while.

When I finally arrived in Hanoi it felt like I had just finished a very long race and I was extremely thankful that I would not have to endure another sleepless night on a hot, crowded, bumpy overnight bus. I’m not much of a city girl and most of the time I don’t have much an opinion about cities- I can really take them or leave them. The one thing that really struck me here in Hanoi was how strange it was to see whole streets dedicated to one type of store. There was a street for just sunglasses, one of only clothing shops, another of spices… it seems like a bad business move considering every single store is selling the same exact thing. It would seem to make more sense spreading them out throughout the city but I had to stop asking “why” about things along time ago. Also, Hanoi has to be the winner of the busiest sidewalk award. One of my pet peeves about Southeast Asia on a whole is that walking on the sidewalks in these incredibly busy cities is virtually impossible. Motorbikes and vendors take up every inch of the sidewalk forcing pedestrians to fend for themselves in the streets among the thick traffic as a symphony of horns blare at you like you have any other choice about where you can walk.

It is not like me to be so negative about a place in general and I’ve been trying to look at my experience here with a more positive attitude. I am also taking into account that some of my frustrations were due to a terrible bout of homesickness that snuck up on me- but sadly the people I interact with are what makes or breaks an experience for me. Despite my everyday annoyances I have a great deal of respect for the Vietnamese. I am full of admiration and a little confusion at how a country full of such unpretentious people were able to force out the French, Chinese and good ol’ USA from their beloved land. Obviously they are a wonderfully resilient people and amazingly forgiving. My parents were concerned that I might be met with some hostility while traveling here- the war something they still remember with clarity- but not one person seemed even remotely put off by my birthplace. It seems that they are perfectly happy leaving the past just where it is-history.