April, 2014

Writing from Sapa, a colorful jagged little town in northern Vietnam with hundreds of Hmong people selling traditional knitted shirts, silver bracelets they made, frogs and roasted pigeons and pigs.

I just got back from the market- a chaotic maze of bursting fresh color, muted dried spices pinched shut in plastic bags, intense foul smells of raw meat and the smoke of noodle soup clouding the air. Now loaded with dried apples, sweet candied unknown fruit and a full belly of veggie curry and fresh mango juice, I am ready to climb into the mountains tomorrow.

Tomorrow we leave on a 4 night 5 day trek into the mountains with Mai, our 30 yr old fearlessly beautiful Hmong leader (pictured right), where we will walk all day up the hills, live, eat and get to know her family of seven. Over the next couple days, we will trek to friends and relatives in nearby villages. All of this behind after a magical overnight train from Hanoi, four of us per train car stacked up the wall in our sleeper beds as the tug and pull of the train rhythmically lulled us to sleep, the lush endless green scenery rushing past fading into the night.

We met Mai today at the market once we arrived in Sapa and were greeted by a woman from another time- her body clothed head to foot in traditional clothing. Her calves were wrapped tight in dark velvet, tied with bright ribbon- her hair twisted and held tight with sturdy silver combs, slightly crooked in handmade imperfection and beauty- her small arms held beneath meticulous embroidery that took her two years to complete.

After sitting and talking, she invited us on a walk around the lake and off we went, following a pint sized woman from another world, her toothless, grinning, gloriously wrinkled mother effortlessly trotting along, winking and laughing at us, chattering to her daughter in their native tongue.

POST TREK

Our trek and time spent with the Hmong people in Northern Vietnam was spectacular and many of the students said it was their favorite activity of the trip, mostly because we simply got to BE with Mai and her family (two of her four children pictured below in my lap).

While we spent a lot of time walking, we were done most days by three or four pm and had the entire evening to chat with Mai (who spoke decent English), help cook, and play with her kids.

During the trek, we also met Mai’s supposedly 120 year old grandmother, the entire group sitting a tiny dusty room clouded with smoke, watching in awe as her grandmother poked at the fire. One evening, we all sat on Mai’s front porch and split up in groups, making a song about our trip, one verse for each country.

Exhausted from days of walking, on afternoon we decided to pitch in helping Mai in the fields (where she continually laughed at our horrible planting technique). While we could say this was a “service” project Mai will be the first to tell you that we did not do anything that her seven year old daughters could not do more efficiently. However, we were there because we wanted to learn and she was happy and proud to show us her land. Again, this idea of working alongside, rather than for someone because they need your help, was so critically important.