Going Hmong

The Hmong tribe villagers of Sa Pa believe that painting a red circle on your forehead using water buffalo's blood will cure a headache.

On arrival from our bogus journey through the mountains we find ourselves surrounded by small, fiery tribal women hawking their wares for us tourists who quite obviously have just gotten into town. Usually I push my way through with my hands over my head for protection from "The Village People", but there was something different about these women. Maybe it was the fresh air in my lungs or the pure joy of getting there in one piece, but I really enjoyed their company and laughter. I bought a pretty scarf from one of them that I had been eying ever since my arrival, and they promised to come back later to show us around. Weathered travelers know that people will say just about anything to get you to buy stuff, so I wasn't actually expecting to see much more of them.

I was surprised to be awakened from a nap by Haydin to inform me that there were some village ladies downstairs and that they had invited us out for drinks. My travel radar went off again, knowing that there are a lot of scams where you get "invited" out by locals, only to get stuck with a hefty bill at the end of the night. We all went with them anyway and sat down at a Bia Hoi.

Bia Hoi is a genius idea. These old ladies have kegs of beer out on the street, and you buy a pitcher of beer for the price of a bottle in a bar. They have tiny plastic chairs you used to sit on in kindergarten and it's the social event of the town until the kegs run dry. So we sit and we chat and I find them to be beautiful, amazing women. Sue, Sa, and her daughter Cue all speak fantastic English, as well as Vietnamese, their local Hmong dialect, and an assortment of French and Spanish as well. I almost fell out of my chair when I told Sa that I lived in Mexico and she replied with "Hola, como estas?"

It's hard to describe these women, but I can definitely say that they glow. Their traditional dress includes a pair of velvety shorts, a tshirt and a beautifully stitched outer coat. All of this is tied together with a hand stitched belt that took over a year to make. Add a little hat, a scarf and matching velvet leg warmers on a four foot tall tribal lady wearing all the rings, earrings and necklaces she can without falling over, and you have an idea as to what my new friends, or should I say my new mommies, look like. Or you can check out the picture I attached.

Yes, I've been adopted. After hours of talking, laughing, sharing stories and learning about each other, we all split the bill evenly and they invite us to their village for lunch the next day. We meet up and walk the seven kilometers that they walk every few days to get back home from Sa Pa, talking the whole way. Sa holds my hand and says, "Rachel, you must come live in the village and I will get you a husband. It's best to be Hmong woman in the village because the man must pay the dowry to marry the woman. You get paid! And my husband also takes care of the children and our pet water buffalo! Ha! It's best that men do the house work too, and I spend my time in Sa Pa having drinks with you! Ha!"

I have an announcement to make: I'm moving into the village and never leaving.

The last three days in Sa Pa I have seen them everywhere, always greeting me by screaming "Daughter!" from across the street with huge smiles, hugs and kisses while I scream "Mommies!" as they skip up. These women took us into their homes, cooked us lunch, taught us about their culture and language, dressed us up in traditional Hmong clothes and introduced us to their husbands, mothers and children without a second thought. Today, at our request, they brought us blankets and belts for us to see and buy because I want one, I love these woman, and because I'm wearing the most beautiful hand stitched belt in the world right now. When the time came to say goodbye it was a sad event. They each give me a big hug, Sue gives me a pretty little purse made by her six year old daughter and Sa gives me a pair of silver earrings. She knows I don't wear earrings and explains that they're not for me. They're for my other mommy.

Tomorrow Haydin and I are back on the motorbike headed east, which is why I'm writing this now. Mel took the train back to Hanoi yesterday and Andrew left on his bike this morning. We'll do four more days cruising around the national parks in northeastern Viet Nam before getting back to Hanoi. From there I might just hop on the train and come straight back! Sa apparently has a husband lined up for me, and I've promised to teach them how to read English if they teach me how to sew.

But only if I get my own water buffalo.