It was eight weeks into our trip and we’d seen rice paddies up and down mainland Indochina. Rice paddies in flat squares and those that climbed up mountains. Paddies with little budding plants and those full to the brim. But it’s fair to say we hadn’t really seen rice paddies until we visited misty Sa Pa, a Northern Vietnamese town near the border of China. These are like lush carpeted steps leading to another world, the vast expanse of which is only revealed in the fleeting moments when the mist lifts.
The town and surrounding countryside of Sa Pa is populated by ethnic minorities, including the Black Hmong and Red Dzao, who have capitalized on the tide of tourists descending on Sa Pa every year. Unlike the more aggressive tactics of their Vietnamese urban counterparts, these sellers of trinkets and handicrafts (all of whom are women), will silently follow you all day with the hope that at the end of your day’s trek, you’ll purchase a woven bag or whistle. You cannot fault them for wanting to add to their meager farming income. And while tourism has profoundly impacted the way of life for these people, it’s also evident that it has elevated their standard of living. The women who led us on our two day trek through the valley say the most beneficial change has been that they have noa been able to send their children to school.
Perhaps one wouldn’t think of rice farmers as elegant, but I cannot think of any better word to describe the women of Sa Pa. For miles they will walk through the valley dressed from head to toe in beautiful embroidered clothes and silver jewelery, delicately balancing on the edge of each terraced paddy without muddying themselves. They are hard workers but they speak little of their pains. And despite not having much, they are incredibly generous and hospitable. By the end of the trip, my arm was laced with woven bracelets gifted to me by the women while my pockets where rimmed with little animals created from hand-folded reeds they’d made along the way. They invited us to their homes, where we were served delicious local food and got tipsy on rice wine, or “happy water” as they called it. My heart was brimming with the realization of the human capacity to be kind and connect with one another despite great differences. Below are more photos of our lovely trekking guides and the stunning other-worldly place they call home.
Loved this post. I visited parts of China several years ago. The rice paddies remind me of some of the countryside we saw. Beautiful!