A Hmoob* Mob

I just returned from three days in Sa Pa, a French hill station in the mountains northwest of Hanoi. In reality, the town itself is not very interesting, and there's very little other than a small church and some delicious pastries to indicate any Frenchness about it. Supposedly, the views from the town across the hills, and to Mt. Fansipan, the highest point in Vietnam, are phenomenal. So they say. However, the weather is notoriously bad, and most of the time what I saw from the town is best described by this ironic photo:

However, the real reason to go to Sa Pa is not the town itself, but the surrounding countryside, terraced rice paddies sloping up the massive hillsides dotted by bamboo forests, cascading streams, and small villages inhabited by many of Vietnam's ethnic minorities: the Hmong, the Dzao, the Tay. As soon as you clear the town a bit (every direction is downhill), the mist clears and you are surrounding by this beautiful tableau. Along the way, as I discovered first hand, you are sure to acquire a Hmong entourage.

I took a walk to the neighboring village of Lao Chai, and before I cleared the town I had five Hmong women to accompany me. At first, they were trying to sell me stuff, but I resisted, and then they just walked along with me and chatted in limited English. They were fond of pointing to themselves and saying "Hmong people". Their names (as far as I could tell) were: So, Jew, Cu, Su, and Su. Eventually, they became indispensible guides and took me to several villages as we gradually left most other tourists behind (of course, I later paid them for their services). It was like a reverse tour group: one tourist and five guides.

Past the village of Ta Van, the path could better be described as a linear mud hole. In some places, it was so steep and slippery, the Hmong women became literally hands-on guides, taking my arm to help me from slipping, and in some places even pushing and pulling me up the steep slopes. Several places I took a step upwards only to find my shoe had remained behind stuck in the mud. I absolutely could not have completed the hike without them. Of course, I never would have been there in the first place. The mud path wound along the edges of rice paddies, up through bamboo forests, and eventually back down to their home village, Giang Ta Chay. Later, from the other side of the river, I looked back and discovered that we had traversed directly over a recent landslide.

The pay-off at the end after a good 20km hike was this impressive waterfall adjacent to Giang Ta Chay, and an old Rattan Bridge that would make Indiana Jones nervous. But the real pay-off was getting to spend a day with these friendly ladies.


* As Sarah and my mother already know if they read the Note on Pronunciation at the end of "The Spirit Catches You...", "Hmoob" is an alternate spelling of "Hmong", and they are pronounced the same. The double o indicates an 'ng' sound at the end, and the b is a tonal marker.