From December 13-15, I spent 3 days in SaPa, a 9-hour train ride north Hanoi. It was actually not bad. Train rides always allow for opportunities to meet people and share stories. I bunked with Reece & Sam from Australia and Liz from England. I don’t think any of us slept because of the noise factor mostly. We arrived at 5:30 am in Lao Chai, a town 2 km from the Chinese border. We still had a 2-hour bus ride to SaPa.

SaPa, a town of about 30 thousand people, lies at an elevation of 1650 meters. It’s known for its lovely mountain landscape, tiers of rice paddies on very steep terrain, various ethnic hillside tribes (e.g. Red and Black H’mong, Red Zao, and Dzay tribes), trekking, and the highest peak in Indo-China, Fansipan.

I spent the first day orienting myself, walked through the markets, and fled the multiple tribes women who stalked me to buy stuff. The weather was very chilly and it prompted me to buy a North Face shell, wool socks, mitts and a hat. There was no way I could be there without the gear. By far, it was the coldest place I had visited since leaving Canada at the end of October. Weirdly, the weather did bring a sense of comfort. It was that and a return to mountain scenery, something I love.

I met up with fellow travellers, Joshua and Amy, a couple from Australia. We initially met in Hanoi on a bike tour. As it turns out, our travel itineraries were almost identical and over 14 days in December, we met up in various places to share a meal and stories. They are gems! I will be keeping in contact with them long after our journeys are complete.

When I met up with them, I was a bit upset about the state of my hotel which was horrible! No hot water, no heat, totally filthy with dirty and hole-filled towels that were obviously not changed from the previous guests. It was so cold that i could see my breath in the room. When i asked for a heater, i was charged extra for it. Not cool! It was that or freeze my ass off. I had my little meltdown with J&A who persuaded me to leave and book a room at their hotel. leaving the room only meant a $10 loss, a pittance in exchange for something better. Packing up, I instantly felt a sense of relief. It’s not a good feeling being in a place where you don’t feel all that safe. I slept well in the new place. While it too was on the chilly side, it was safe, clean and I was with friends.

For the next two days, I went on a trek into the mountains. I was in a group of 4 along with our guide. We were Mehdi and Redouane, brothers from France, Go from Japan, and Ngoc, our guide.

The first day was spent walking 12 km through villages of the various hillside tribes – the Red and Black Hmong, Red Zao, and Dzay tribes. There were definitely great points, but again in the land of Vietnam, it was hard to escape the perpetual pressure to buy. Even in the isolation of mountain peaks surrounding me, I continued to hear, ‘Madam, you buy something from me?’. I couldn’t seem to get away from it. I ignored the requests and turned my attention to the magical landscape and company of my fellow trekkers. We had in common the desire to immerse ourselves in the nature of Vietnam – the land away from the perpetual hum of the motos, the unceasing crowds, the smog, and the visual pollution of signage, power wires, and sidewalks so packed with merchants and motos that one must resort to playing a form of automobile/moto dodgeball.

We hiked to the town of Ta Van where we spent the night with a local family. The family consisted of a mom and 6-year old We. The father was away at school learning the local handicraft trade. Power in the town went off at around 9:00 pm so the evening was spent eating dinner cooked by the mom, and sitting around the kitchen hearth fueled by wood and rice husks. We were entertained by We who was insistent in her teaching us 1 to 10 in Vietnamese. We in turn tried to teach her the numbers in English, Japanese, Moroccan, and French. She was delightful and a load of fun!

Oh, and there was the ‘happy water’, a form of rice-derived moonshine. Think of grappa, a very potent form of grappa. A bottle was set on the table and our guide Ngoc encouraged us in our drinking to keep warm. I managed only three shots, which was more than enough. We gave it a good effort and while we all had very red faces, we did not finish the bottle.

Sleepiness from the day came. We slept in the loft of the house on simple mats under the protection of mosquito netting. There was no heating but the blankets were warm. I have to say that it was probably the best sleep I had in several weeks of traveling.

We set out early the next day, this time covering terrain that was a bit steeper and definitely muddier. There were poor villages that we passed through. We visited one family’s home and it was a reminder once again of all the advantages and ammenities we have in our western living. A family of 5 lived in a home with dirt floors, no running water or visible plumbing, no windows or insulation against the cold, and simple and dirty bedding (I only saw 1 queen-sized bed). It was a shared accommodation with hay, the rice crop and a menagerie of dogs and chickens.

I have been challenged in ways unimaginable. One of the challenges on my visit to SaPa came in the form of Xia (?Shia), a girl of about 10 years.

As we were having breakfast outside and preparing to leave the home stay on the second day of our trek, I noticed Xia sitting at the side of the house. She appeared shy in nature, stealing periodic peeks at us, and was playing a game with stones, equivalent to the childhood game of jacks. She sat there for at least 40 minutes, watching us and playing her game. As our home stay in Ta Van was 200 meters off of the main path, I assumed that she was the child of a neighbor.

When we left and proceeded with the trek, she began to follow us and we were soon joined by her friend Vi. I engaged in conversation as they spoke basic English. I asked about school and they indicated that they attended in the afternoon, which is typical of children in Vietnam. To accommodate the numbers of children, school is attended either from 7-11 a.m. or 1-5 p.m.

Xia and Vi followed us for 1 hour and 45 minutes. As the distance from their village grew longer, I wondered aloud to them if their moms would be worried. I indicated that they should turn back lest they be late for school.

On a couple of occasions in steeper and muddier places, they told me to take their hand for support which I did. I found it comical that they were in their ‘jelly’ plastic shoes easily scrambling about the terrain while I was in my Merrell hikers struggling in places.

So what was my challenge….?

Our group made a stop at a beautiful waterfall overlooking the slopes of steeply tiered, harvested rice paddies when Xia and Vi approached me. They approached me with a request for money. I asked them why. Essentially, I was met with the response that since they helped me clamber through some steep spots, they wanted compensation. I was astounded. I did not pay and for several reasons. First, I was pissed. When I accepted the helping hand it was with the belief that it was being done with the motivation of kindness. How naïve was I? In my mind, I started the inner dialogue with ‘If I was in Canada on a hike and came across someone having difficulty negotiating the path, I would stop, offer help, offer my hiking stick…..etc.’
‘But this is not Canada’, I reminded myself.

I declined payment on a second level, that doing so would be reinforcing for the girls and would keep them out of school. Obviously, trekkers before me had paid them. They followed us for 1 hour and 45 minutes. To go that far they had to have the thought that I would pay. I was also upset in thinking that our group (me in particular, perhaps?) were targeted from early in the morning, from 200 meters off of the beaten path at our home stay. It all started with a game of jacks….I felt manipulated.

Xia and Vi pestered me further. They left and about 2 hours later I saw them at a rest stop at another hillside village. They were tagging along with some other trekkers. At this point in the day, it was the afternoon schooling time and sadly, they were not in school. I guess they told me what I wanted to hear.

It was a challenge to me on the idea of kindness, that the extension of kindness happens automatically for some, while for others it might happen with different underlying motivations. Perhaps my mistake was that I was responding with a naïve assumption that it was simply a kind gesture with no strings attached. My preference is that I continue to respond with this assumption about others, and that I hold onto naïveté. Question: is it naïveté?

While initially mad, I also felt sadness about the experience. Sad that the girls were missing school, sad that the parents probably had a role in their daughters’ presence on the mountain, and sad that poverty can change how some people approach others. I take it as one experience of many on this journey.

And damn it, I am hell-bent on holding onto my naïveté!