An original version of this story was posted for Tulisan. The following is a personal extended version.
After a 10 hours ride on the sleeper bus – a signature travelling style of Vietnam – I was finally at Sa Pa. The town of Sa Pa is a district in the northwestern province of Lao Cai, Vietnam and was indeed the awaited part of my journey of Southern China and Northern Vietnam.
The town had been on my mind for the last 5 years. I remember seeing the images of Sa Pa church in the midst of fog in the morning and the Hmongs who roamed the boundless mountain range. Sa Pa is all about the warmth of people in the cold weather and the minuscule human in the midst of nature's vastness.
The town is awfully romantic and raw. It was filled with old buildings and local culture. Downtown area was landmarked with the old Sa Pa Church, only a few steps away from the town square. At the square, traditional Hmong tribes came in to the town from their nearby villages to conduct the morning market every day. Even when it drizzled with rain, they proceed their trade activity; selling crops, spices, and fresh roses.
Dew kissed the hotel's window seal and mists fell on the top of Fan Si Pan. Even stormy days came with stories in their roar, about the war of the old warriors and the power of nature.
A love market where Hmong boys and girls socialize in the pursue of love, took place every Saturday night. It was a magical night of our trip. I fell in love with the hospitality of the new friends who stayed for one hour just to make sure that the cellphone they found in the park was taken by the person who owns it. That night, the stars startled me and their wine comforted me.
I still think that it is impossible to share the breathtaking view of Sa Pa in words. Its yellow terrace rice fields giving sign of harvest season or the warmth of the midnight BBQ was beyond explanation. The story of Sa Pa is a story of encounter: of Hao, Hung, Duc, and Mai; of Eclipse and the bottles of beer; of apple wine and belly warming Baileys; of the night talks under Orion; of Mi and her sister; of the delicate fabric of Hmongs; of restless minds and feet.
In Sa Pa nature always take its course. In a month or two, winter would come. The soil would again be bare and vulnerable to the weather. What remains is the wind of constant hello asking, "Where you come from?"
In Sa Pa nature always take its course. In a month or two, winter would come. The soil would again be bare and vulnerable to the weather. What remains is the wind of constant hello asking, "Where you come from?"
- Rassi Narika
Images were taken by Dika Satya, Arif W. Brago, and Rassi Narika. Thank you!
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