Sapa

A week ago, maybe two weeks by the time you read this, I was in Sapa. Sapa is close to the border of China and is in the mountains. It was cold as it is winter in northern Vietnam, but it was bearable. Not only bearable, it was beautiful and one of the highlights of my trip. The mountainous region is home to many hill tribes or ethnic minority groups that originally emigrated from China some time ago.

Although the area was fairly touristy, it was a ton of fun communicating with these people and learning about their way of life. I could live there. Well, I could for a little while. In the summer. I don't know if I could tend to the rice paddies, but I could wake up every morning feeling refreshed and constantly awed by the magical scenery of the place.

The hill tribes (as they are called) that we came into contact with include the H'mong (the H is silent), the Red Dzao (pronounced Zow) and the Xa (add a tilde over the 'a' and pronounce it Za).

These two H'mong girls, Ela and Lu, were extremely cute and fun to have on our treks.
Until they called me rat bastard for not wanting to buy any of their goods, which I have to say were not comparable in quality or price to those in the store. I eventually relented and purchased a few inexpensive items to keep them happy and keep away the evil eye. Because it was there and I didn't want it. I thought we were friends.
The weather was cold and the fog and mist rolled in during the evenings. It may have dampened the place a bit, but it didn't dampen my spirits. Yes, I am cheesy.
The H'mong women wait patiently outside to attack the tourists when they leave the hotel. First, they befriend you and then they make you pinky swear you'll buy something from them later and then if you don't, well, you don't want to know what happens. It was good fun. Such memorable people.
Terraced rice paddies were everywhere. The trails leading to the villages were very wet and muddy and it was so much fun to wear rubber boots and traipse through the muck!
There were a lot of animals along the trail including these water buffalo, chickens, ducks, pigs, dogs, a pony and many elephants. No, there were not any elephants. Don't be foolish.
These girls were also particularly memorable. And cute, but you can't buy something from everyone even though you want to. It's kind of distressing.
Big pig - need I say more?
The H'mong boys were a rare find. That is because they did not sell anything and therefore did not have to interact with the tourists. They were typically tending to the rice paddies, carrying bamboo or firewood, dragging wood for houses or otherwise doing manly things. Stereotypically manly things. They did not speak English in the same surprising fashion as the women.
This little piggy went to the market. Yes, that is a pig tied to the back of a moped, otherwise known as a moto in this part of the world. A squealing pig is a terrible, haunting sound and I think everyone should hear it before they have their next slice of bacon. Anyone who says animals don't experience pain or fear is just ridiculous.
H'mong treasures. This woman tried really hard to sell me this head band even though it was actually a waist band and in the end I decided against it. A wise move I must say in retrospect. But beautful treasures they are.
Typical view of the mountains.
More rice paddies.
This woman was great. So friendly. These people can move down a muddy, slippery trail with ease. Watching us must have been highly entertaining.
Yet more rice paddies.
We were on the bus waiting to leave and they still don't give up. I love them for it.