Sapa and the Flower Hmong

For sure I was going to be able to get on a bus at 5am to head north to Sapa after arriving in Hanoi at 3am...well, not so. Ling from the Kangaroo Hotel was called to deal with the foreigners on the minibus from Vinh. We had no clue what was going on. The bus stopped and then everyone just sat there and waited. Ling let me know that getting on a bus at 5am was not really an option, so I followed her to the hotel and slept a few hours. Then I had that one day of sightseeing with Tom (I finally remembered his name) and in the evening I was off to Sapa on the train.

First off, it was effing cold up there. It was also foggy but thankfully it didn't rain. The first stop was Bac Ha Sunday market. All the Flower Hmong hilltribes women came out in their finest gear. Walking around in the market was like being in the middle of a rainbow. The colours were spectacular. Once we got off the bus I headed straight up the road and then followed the sound of pigs squealing. Behind the main market stalls was the livestock section which meant that there were pigs on leashes, dogs in cages and cats in baskets. I later opted for a vegetarian lunch at the market.

One of the most disturbing sights was a hilltribe woman being slapped around by a Vietnamese woman who had caught her stealing. I stood, I stared and a little boy took me by the hand and led me away. I don't think he was concerned about my wellbeing. My stop and stare habit was blocking his stall from all the other customers.

Jeremy provided some entertaining stories on our walk through one of the local villages in the afternoon. His parents were medics with the UN and he was born on a boat somewhere between Australia and Sri Lanka. His dad just got off a weekend shift in one of the camps and was pissed out of his mind watching a boxing match in the South of India. When his mom called him to let him know that he now was father to a son, his dad decided to name him after one of the boxers on the TV match. The man named his son after the loser in the match because he wanted a daughter and not a boy.

The hotel in Sapa was quite posh but freaking cold. I had to ask for two blankets to keep me warm throughout the night. The heater was under the bed and didn't kick in until late in the night. Getting up the next day to start walking through the rice fields was a bit of a challenge. I'd heard horror stories of slipping and sliding through mud from some of the other people at the hotel who went on the trek the Friday before. Luckily the weather cooperated and the mist lifted once we started walking through ricefields and along rivers.


The Black Hmong women kept us company on the trail and followed us around. The little girls were amazing. They had learned their English from tourists and were actually able to have proper conversations. One of the girls told me that she was going to be married when she was 15 years old. When I asked her to whom she said "I don't know. The boy chooses who to marry." The villages along the way were Red Dzao and Black Hmong and apparently intermarriage between the different tribes was common. Once a woman marries into the other tribe she changes the way she dresses to that of the new tribe.

Eventually I had to tell the young German couple on my trek that I spoke their language. They kept bickering and Vanessa (the German girl) had cramps of some sort, her boyfriend was totally unsupportive. He was not so impressed with my love of the Hoff and affinity for Modern Talking. Somehow the conversation shifted from the eighties hits of Germany to the people of Germany. Vanessa eloquently described them this way "We may be stupid but at least we're not fat." I think she was comparing the populations of Deutschland to the USA when she uttered those words.

Su Hee (the Korean girl in our group) managed to somehow walk through muddy fields and along riverbeds without getting her sparkling white runners soiled. She asked me if I was going to come to Korea at some point in my travels through Asia and I always feel so bad when I say no to Koreans because they are genuinely offended at my honest response, I lied. I said maybe. I should really consider it. I've met enough Koreans to keep me entertained for a very long time in Seoul. But it's cold there, so maybe not.

At the end of our trek I had Su Hee rubbing my cold, cold hands warm. Ki, our guide, took us to his home in the village and we had some tea with his sister. Going to the bathroom was the highlight of that experience. They had a picture of a naked Asian woman printed right into the tile. That really helped me pee.