The Mountain Women of Sapa

Last Thursday, I left with about fifteen other study abroaders for Sapa. We got on a train at 10pm, with seats a tad bigger than one on airplanes. I wrapped a silk scarf I got from Hoi An around my head to keep the light out, but I still didn’t get any sleep that night. We arrived in Lao Cai, a small city that borders China, around eight in the morning and got on a bus to Sapa.

The ride up there was foggy but what we could see was still amazing. Terraced rice farming is always impressive, especially in person. We checked into the Pinnochio Hotel and got ready to hike to Dragon’s Mouth. I had to wait for my friend Jake, who was to arrive a little later, and so decided to have breakfast instead of going on the hike. As I walked around, I found a great many stores stocked fool of North Face jackets and other mountain gear, along with an abnormal number of foot massage parlours, at least three every block. There were also groups of ethnic minorities, primarly girls, who dressed in their traditional garb and sold bracelets and finely woven bags in brilliant colors. The girls and women were of all ages, from 6 to 90 years of age, and they all chanted “You buy from me?” At first I tried to teach them how to be more polite with, “Would you like one?” but it didn’t seem to stick.

I walked around a bit for the rest of the day and had some pizza for dinner. There was a market or two, but each stall had the exact same collection of things: mostly northface jackets, knives, lighters, machetes, and wallets. There were of course the usual scarfs and woven bags. As for the restaurants in town, most are European or American fusion, and in general the place is pretty much a tourist trap. That is not to say one can’t have an “authentic” experience.

That night I decided to have a drink with my friend Jake, who had just finished touring China and had come to Vietnam to visit me. We decided to start at the Hmong bar because someone had given us a free beer pass. When we arrived we found a couple of expats, some frenchmen, and about twelve Hmong girls laughing and screaming around a pool table. They were pretty good, and so I decided to write my name on the board. It was a fun night, and I won and lost some. Those Hmong girls were pros, and they had some nasty mouths on them too. Still, they were a fun bunch who knew how to have a good time. Talking to a few of them, I found that many of them lived together, and a few had their own apartments. During the day, they dress up in traditional garb to sell souvenirs, but at night, they dress like the rest of us and they like to get shitty just like the rest of us.  

So we all got pretty drunk and there were a couple of tussles and what not but all ended well. I almost found myself going to a discoteque with them after the bar kicked us out at twelve, but I suppose I hadn’t drunk enough. So as Jake an I passed our hotel, we bid farewell to the enchanting mountain women of Sapa and went to bed.