Sapa

I took a weekend exertion to Sapa with four Mormons from the Hanoi congregation (Sam, Quang, Hue and Chi). Sapa is a mountainous area in north-west Vietnam, made famous by its breath taking views and ethnic minorities. We took a night train Friday evening and arrived Saturday morning at Lao Cai train station where we caught a shuttle bus to Sapa. The zig zagging road up the mountain side was surprisingly/thankfully in good condition, however there could have been a few more guard rails between me and the cliff. No second chances on this road.

After dropping off our bags at the hotel we rented motorbikes and a tour guide. When I introduced myself to our guide as a Canadian, his immediate reaction was “Parlez-vous français??”, to which I responded (quite pathetically), “oui...” (what else could I say? I had answered his question, hadn't I?). He explained his French is better than his English, so I was forced to recall my distant French Immersion days as he insisted on speaking French to me throughout the tour. Over the past 3 months I've grown accustomed to having complete conversations go on around me without understanding more than one or two words, so it was fun having a 'secret' language I could use with the guide that no one else understood for a change. Although having three languages flying around all day was fairly confusing. A few times I started my sentence with the wrong language and would have to start again with the correct one.

On the tour we explored a cave near a Doa village (one of the ethnic minorities). We spent nearly an hour in the cave, with only the light of 2 crap-tastic flash lights. There were two Dao children that came into the cave with us, walking a few feet in front of us (ie without the aid of flash lights) and they were putting us to shame. So I decided to ditch the tour guide, let my eyes adjust and follow the children. This Doa boy and girl were incredible! They were walking through the cave like it was their playground... which for all intensive purposes, it was! The little boy saved my skin 3 times in the first 10 minutes of my following him. The first time he showed me where to grab so that I wouldn't slip, then he prevented me from hitting my head (again), and stopped me from stepping into a bottomless pit! All this in the complete darkness! These two knew that cave like the back of their little hands. It was insane! But I was so grateful for my little Dao cave hero. Although, I have to ask, 'where are this boy's parents?', and 'why aren't they concerned that he's in a dark dangerous cave with complete strangers for an hour?'. Very different culture.



We had lunch in the Dao village, then headed up the mountain to see “the silver waterfall”, or “la cascade d'argent”. The waterfall itself was not overly impressive but its location was. The waterfall is situated near the highest point in the mountain range. This is where I experienced my first non-AC-induced-chill in the past 3 months. You know its cold when the Canadian has goose bumps!

Saturday evening went to “le marche d'amour”, or “the love market”. The love market today is like any other market in Vietnam, so what's with the name? Originally the Sat evening market was a chance for all the unmarried Doa and Hmoung youngsters to come and mingle. Apparently the courting is pretty direct, “I like you”, to which the person would either respond in kind or with a rejection. Another tradition is for the man to kidnap the woman he's interested in and bring her to his house for several days. This supposedly was so that they could decide if there is chemistry... how romantic?

On Sunday our little group went on a 4 hour hike with a different tour guide; whom by the way was the laziest/worst tour guide EVER. That being said he did unintentionally create some amusement for us by being the bud of several jokes. We hiked down the mountain through a few other minority villages where we met a little girl carrying her younger brother. Sam spoke to her for a while and translated what she was saying to me. She didn't know her age but I would guess about 3 or 4. She bobbed up and down in that classic baby-soothing way one often observes mothers doing. We offered to buy the group of children any candy they wanted from a nearby shop. They all chose the same $.10 candy. Children accepting cheap candy from strangers... totally different culture.


Once on the night train back to Hanoi I passed out within an hour. Exhaustion is a tell-tale sign of a good adventure. The people you go on a trip with can make or break the experience, I would go adventuring again with that group in an instant.