Video: Sapa & Area

Some highlights from my trip to Sapa.

Sapa is Super!

A weekend get-away to Sapa was good for the mind, body and spirit.

I'd heard and read so much about Sapa and it was high on my list of must-sees for Vietnam. The descriptions of this small town set in the mountains of norther Vietnam seem to always include phrases like "mystical mountain tops," "valley views that will make you swoon," "stunning, towering peaks," etc.

After having spent a short 3 days there, I must say that Sapa lived up to all these descriptions, as well as my high expectations. It is simply the loveliest place I've seen in Vietnam. The mountains really were stunning, I literally did swoon from the valley views, and yes - the mountain peaks do stun and tower before you.

In some ways, it reminded me of past visits to the gorgeous terraced rice paddies of Bali and the endless tea estates carved into the Cameron Highlands of Malaysia...but I found the Sapa region to be more...serene. There is definitely a stillness that settles into you...maybe it's the fact you can finally hear yourself think after the craziness of Hanoi...or maybe it's finally being able to fill your lungs with fresh air. I'm not sure what it is, but it's left me feeling calm and alive.

I boarded the Pumpkin Express for a 10-hour overnight journey from Hanoi to Lao Cai, a small town on the China-Vietnam border.

Snug but very comfy quarters. I found myself sharing the berth with a woman from Spain and a couple from New Zealand who all proved to be good company.

I spent a bit of time in the townsite of Sapa, wandering around the streets and taking it all in. The town square:

I was surprised at the number of people from the neighbouring minority communities who were in town selling their goods, like this woman from the Dzao tribe.

It's the summer season in Sapa, which means that the peaches and apricots are out. Apparently, this past March, it actually snowed in Sapa - a rare event. The cold weather killed much of the livestock and the fruit crops have also suffered.

As in much of Vietnam, the tourist industry is booming in Sapa. Unfortunately, much the

development isn't regulated, so all the developers seem to be hell-bent on trying to out-do each other for

the best views.

I heard that the weekends can get a bit crazy with hoards of Vietnamese tourists from Hanoi flocking to see the Saturday market. It's off-season now, so it didn't seem too bad - but I can only imagine what it'll be like once summer holidays begin.

To the right is a photo of an old wooden home. It seems that in the immediate vicinity of Sapa, these are disappearing at an alarming rate and being replaced by rather hideous-looking mega-hotels (many of which are backed by Chinese investors). Photo below of a new one mid-construction.

One of the main streets in Sapa...

A Dzao woman...

CAT CAT VILLAGE

Some images from my trip to Cat Cat village, home to about 600 Black H'Mong people.

SIN CHAI VILLAGE

Some images from my trip to Sin Chai village, home to about 300 Black H'Mong people.

The highlight of my trip was meeting and getting to know, Mah, a young Black H'Mong woman. I spent an entire day walking and chatting with her. She was so forthcoming, honest and willing to share her experiences. I hope to visit Sapa again, and I hope to meet Mah again.

And one final note...I've never been anywhere in the world that was so misty and foggy...I spent hours and hours just sitting in one place watching the incredible mist...it was absolutely magical and what I imagine the aurora borealis to be like, but in a misty reincarnation. At times it was such a thick fog that you could barely see 50 meters in front of you and at other times, it would suddenly lift and the sun would break through. The clouds and mist moved at an incredible speed and you could literally see it swooping down and then feel it across your body and then vanish...only to reappear a few minutes later in a completely new formation, swirling and dancing in front of you again. Amazing.

Cute and disturbing.

It's been a crazy ten days. The program manager is visiting from Ottawa so we (the seminar coordinators) have brought her down south to show her our field sites. This has meant a lot of travel packed into too few days. It's been Hanoi-Saigon-Tra Vinh-Saigon-Phan Thiet-Mui Ne-Saigon-Hanoi. Yikes. I feel exhausted and stressed out by the amount of work that still lays ahead of us.

On another note, my favourite quote of the week comes from a Vietnamese student...

"Vietnamese students are loved because they are cute and disturbing."

Speaking of disturbing, check out the creature below that landed on my pillow the other night as I was working on my laptop. It took at least 5 vigorous whacks to bring this beast down. It was a super bug. Super big, super armoured and super scary. I fear that by killing it, I may have unwittingly started some man-vs-bug war...surely these bugs will be the victors. And I can't even hide under my pillow.

Highway 4

I was skeptical that I'd find a restaurant near my place in Hanoi that could consistently satisfy the needs of a vegetarian. I'm so happy that I've found Highway 4 Restaurant! It's literally a one-block walk and has become my go-to place for dinner. Here's what last night's dinner looked like:

The location I went to is at 25 Bat Sue, but there are 4 other locations in Hanoi. They have an extensive menu with lots of interesting options.

I'm hooked on the salad pictured above. Ah, the Spicy and Sour Green Mango Salad. It's dreamy. So far, I've gone for dinner here 3 times in less than a week. The place has great atmosphere and lots of cool art throughout its 3 floors. It's even been mentioned in the New York Times.

At some point, I'm hoping to take the cooking classes they offer. I'll let you know how it goes.

Ten things I had to travel all the way to Vietnam to figure out.

1. Pho is not pronounced “fo” but rather, “fuh.”

2. When they say the temperature is 35 C and feels like 47 C with humidity, what they actually mean is that your brain and body are convinced that it’s 55 C.

3. I really do like taro.

4. Patrick was right – cotton is best. Wicking fabrics don’t really wick in this kind of heat. (refer to #2)

5. There are no limits to how big and curly my hair can get.

6. Always carry electrolyte powder. Always.

7. Crossing the street unharmed is not a human right.

8. In some places it is logical to have an extremely strict motorcycle helmet law but to allow families of 5 to ride on one scooter.

9. It's possible for a woman with 50 live ducks in baskets to ride on the back of a motorcycle.

10. It’s as I suspected - Nestle is taking over the world.

Horrors of War

Obliteration. Genocide. Devastation. Annihilation.

These are the words that float through my mind as I walk through the Aggression War Crimes gallery at the War Remnants Museum in Hanoi. The feelings that course through my heart are equally strong.

Horror. Shock. Anger. Rage. Hopelessness. Sadness. Numbness.

Visiting this museum has been the single most powerful experience thus far in my trip to Vietnam. I was accompanied by Nam, a young student from Tra Vinh province who volunteered to guide Karl and me through the museum so we could learn more about the American War. As we walked through the Agent Orange Aftermath gallery, Nam kept his eyes fixated on me, watching my reactions.

I won’t describe the photos I saw and the text I read because I don’t know where to begin.

I can share with you how I felt – desperate to make sense of the images I was faced with, searching to understand how such events could take place and be tolerated, and trying, trying, trying to understand the horrors the Vietnamese people like Nam’s parents and grandparents witnessed and lived through.

I don’t know what else to say.

Please don't throw rocks at me. Thanks.

Thunk! Right on the back of my head. And then surprisingly, another whack in the middle of my back before I even have time to turn around. The chanting of “Germany bad!” and “Fu*k you!” instantly stops when I spin around. The 8-year-old boy quickly hides the rock he's holding behind his back and his eyes widen with anticipation. What will I do? What will I say?

I'm a polite Canadian and I idiotically say "Please don't throw rocks at me. I'm not German. Thanks."

He tilts his head with confusion, but at least the mean glint in his eyes is gone.

The day started off on a much more positive note. Along with my counter-part, Van Anh, I headed to explore the small town of Mui Ne just outside of Phan Thiet. We hit the sand dunes first. The Mui Ne area has a unique micro-climate and it was bizarre to see palm trees quickly give way to cacti and sand dunes. Unfortunately, the sand dunes were over-run with tourists, but they were still neat to see.

A vendor on the sand dunes.

Children try to sell "sleds" to tourists to go sledding down the dunes.

We then made a spontaneous stop and took a quick peek at some pungent vats of fermenting fish sauce behind someone's house. You could definitely smell them before you saw them.

Our next stop was the 'Fairy Stream' in Mui Ne. I'd read and heard wonderful things about this spot.

You take off your shoes and walk for a few kilometres in a stream surrounded by a beautiful and strange landscape.

It started off well and the scenery is really gorgeous.

However, things quickly changed when I came across a young German woman. She was clearly upset and on the verge of tears. She explained that a group of children had followed her along the walk and when she reached the end, they claimed that they had been her 'tour guides' and demanded money from her. She said that they had just trailed behind her uninvited and that she felt she didn't owe them anything. They then started to call her names and now wouldn't leave her alone.

I volunteered to walk her back to the beginning of the trail and we headed back. The kids followed along behind us, yelling obscenities. And then things got even uglier. The yelling of “Germany bad!” and “Fu*k you!” got louder and more passionate. They became more aggressive and started throwing rocks at us. I was totally caught off guard. I was surprised suddenly at how unsafe I felt and how threatening this little 'gang' of children looked! Some of them looked to be around 14 or 15 years of age, and there was certainly a menacing look in their eyes. Both the German woman and I were happy when we safely approached the trail-head.

I later learned that these kids are not used to hearing 'no'. Apparently, most of the visitors to the Fairy Stream are Russian tourists who are quick to dole out money to the children, creating dependency relationship. It's a case of tourism gone wrong.