Saturday, 8 November 2014

Sapa #2 still inside NatGeo


Waking up in a Hmong village in Sapa Valley felt cozy.  The fogged-sunlight filtered through the cracks between the rough sawn boards that are the walls of Gian and Seo's home.  Blue light came through the tarpaulin near the roof, and one day the men in the family will bring back a hardwood log from high in the mountains above the village, to complete that section of the house.  

In the meantime, with sleepy eyes, quiet steps gather bamboo and a crouching shadow starts the fire for the day.  Gian awoke with the sound of little Peng's whimpers.  After a few moments of sucking, the little two year old clambers out of the family bed still wearing the same red dress as she wore yesterday.  In fact almost everyone is wearing what we wore yesterday.  Us visitors because we left our luggage in Hanoi so we could travel light, our local friends because they are wearing what they own. 

With the crackling of the fire, and a flickering light, Khoa and Peng walk around the room with hushed voices.  Their Dad is still asleep after a happy party with his friends last night.  In stark contrast, the roosters have been at it since early o'clock, and somehow chose to be cockle-doodle-dooing right outside the wall where we slept.  Maybe the soft rain had something to do with it, as they pranced around outside in the dry space under the wide eaves.

Silhouettes peeled and chopped.  Gian and her mother-in-law crouched on the dirt floor, preparing breakfast.  Gia swept the room with brisk strokes, sweeping items that the dogs had left while they meticulously licked every grain of rice that had fallen under the table the night before.  

Khoa had been coughing, and it was really wet outside.  To his protest, Gian said he should stay home from school today.  School is 7:30am till 11, a break for lunch, then 1 till 4pm, six days a week.  The 30 minute hilly walk each way doesn't deter Khoa from loving school.  His teacher recently said he was really clever.  Gian hopes her son will be able to teach her to read and write.  She articulated that she feels sad that she misses out on all the written messages around her in the town, and her generation are really glad their kids can attend school in the village.  

Khoa and cousin Xiu (pronounced Sue) spent a long time enjoying the coloured pencils we gave them. Sitting at the table, they drew their home, complete with the Vietnamese flag and a bright sunshine (which didn't exist that day in real life!). 



With raindrops tumbling all about us, we were glad for our dry hand-crafted haven in the hills.  The house has a solid wood framework, sitting on concrete cornerstones, with beams fitted together without nails/screws.  The carpentry is simple and effective.  Gia told us that all the men in the village gather together to construct a house, usually taking about a month (if the wood is already gathered).

The house below is the original home, built ten years ago.  Still solid, still a happy place to live.  Inside a wall of honour displays Seo's military photo, some certificates, a horn, and laminated photos.  Seo spent three years in the army when Khoa was just two years old.  Gia mentioned that the officials came around to the villages, enlisting men.  Grateful that her husband was too short, Gia smiled as she said he had been allowed to stay at home.  



Breakfast was served.  We ate our fill of rice from their rice paddies, rice-flour pancakes with bananas, morning glory and greyish tasty potatoes from their garden, as well as noodles with egg, and jasmine tea.  


The ladies in the family then brought out their wares ... Hand stitched bags, belts, pillowcases, and the father-in-law's handcrafted silver jewellery.  Gian gave us a treasure each - a belt with a secret pocket for Bry, and a mini bag for Blandolini.


The gift was pretty generous, considering all the detailed stitching has been done by hand, and the rest with an elegant looking Singer sewing machine, that was perhaps the pride of the family.

Lingering with our new friends, it seemed wrong to say goodbye, perhaps it was also the rain outside, and for us the realisation we were coming to the end of our Vietnam stint.

Seo left to trek up the hill to a local village wedding, very straight-backed and chuffed in his new suit jacket and vest. Gian said that each new years they make a new costume for each person in the family, for a special occasion.  Today was Seo's lucky day.  He grinned as we wolf-whistled at him, and translated through Gian, we said he was definitely the most handsome man in the village!  Quick-wittedly and humbly, the response came back 'but you haven't even seen the whole village!'


Spending time with Gian's family made a few big thoughts whirl around my head - not necessarily any conclusions, but the seeds of ideas.  Family pride.  Gratefulness.  Simple structures that are more 'home' than some mansions are.  Thankfulness to be able to have resources to travel, and legs that can walk uphill.  How people strategise to cope with the amount of education they've had.  How happiness stems from such simple things - coloured pencils and stories.  



We hugged and thanked our new friends, Khoa asked if we could stay for the month and be his English teachers, and his Mum said we needed to go.  It'd be a rich experience to live in this village for a spell ... What a fab idea Khoa!

The kids waved us off into the misty hills, and we slipped and slid down the vey muddy path to the motorbikes below.  I doubled Gian, and loved listening to her stories on the ride to town.  Bry's motorbike wanted to be pushed rather than driven, so we popped into the mechanics en route.  

Another thing we saw en route was a small procession of teary-eyed villagers.  40 or so people were led by drummers and horns, then a small shrine including a portrait of Uncle Ho (Chi Minh), and then the large wooden coffin.  The mournful loud music filled the misty valley in an eerie type of way, although some of the people in the procession smiled as they saw us. 

We caught the night bus back to Hanoi - a bit of a shambolic experience ... The bus picked us up at 5pm, drove 4 minutes then waited for an hour and a half before actually leaving, to stop at all the towns on the way.  We weren't impressed at 1am when we were dropped off nowhere near the centre of Hanoi in the rain!  Yay for taxis and friendly hotel guys.  

Sapa was incredible, easily tip top of our favourite things in Vietnam.  If you're ever within 5000 kms of that part of the world, prioritise stopping by.  Gian's number is (+84) 0166 37 333 67 and she will welcome you or your mates with open arms.






1 comment:

  1. And presumably Khoa has some contacts if he wants to study in NZ?

    ReplyDelete