Trekking through luscious rice paddies…Sapa

This morning I woke up to the sound of a bubbling brook, a cock singing it’s morning tune and perhaps a slight knocking in my head from the rice wine I was fed last night. I’m staying with a local family who have so graciously welcomed us into their home and given us a bit of insight into the lives of the local tribes in the hillsides of Vietnam.

The house is built with a combination of brick walls and wooden panels, the interior provides large open spaces and a loft for sleeping. In the kitchen are gas and open fires with a water pit that has constant flowing water from the ‘brook’. In Western terms, a pretty basic house. However, not everything can be measured by material possesions, for the people within emanate warmth and immediately it feels like a home.

Small touches like birds in wooden cages, sing and bring joyful sounds into the home. The space has been planned around a spirit of sharing. The kitchen is large so that preparation of a meal involves everyone, including us. The baby is bounced from granny to grandpa and when mom and dad get back they also get involved. Food is shared and we sit around a table to eat and interact. There is a real sense of community. And the way we are expected to say thank-you is by drinking the home made rice wine in shots everytime the granny calls for a round.

And how did we get to this village…we walked. Along rolling hills, steep inclines and clay walls always avoiding heavily laden motorbikes or getting your foot stuck in thick clay soil. No hillside remains untouched and instead is covered from the highest top to the river valley by terraces of rice paddies. Sprinkled by scenes of the water buffalos stomping the clay in preparation for planting and a bamboo forest for good measure. At times the picture may be confused for the Swiss Alps as the mist gently kisses the the hilltops yet the thick humidity is a not-so-gentle reminder that this is more tropical.