Luxury in the Shape of a Toilet

by Tara Ahlf (United States of America)

Making a local connection Vietnam

We sat crouched on red, plastic stools over steaming bowls of pho and knew that we were going to love Vietnam. Motorbikes and pedestrians flooded the streets, sticky air mad challenging breaths, and hunched old women sold banh mi from rickety carts on the street corners. There were countless new experiences to be had, and we were prepared to chase them all. Since we were limited on time, we decided that the best way to immerse ourselves was to stay with a local family. Luckily, there was a company in Sapa that would arrange a visit for us, so we loaded our backpacks, hitched a terrifying motorbike ride to the local train station, and boarded and overnight train to Sapa. When we arrived, we were greeted by the young woman whose family we would be staying with. She wore a hand-made indigo dress and smiled widely as she explained what we would do over the next few days. We followed her to the local market to collect rice, vegetables, and lychees for our trek. Then we headed out into the hill. As we walked, we talked and learned that the young woman was the same age as us. She was married and had children at home. She informed us that she was a member of a historically nomadic tribe of people called the Hmong, specifically she was in the Hmong Indigo group which is why her clothes were dyed that color. Hours later, we arrived at this woman’s home. Her husband and children were inside and welcomed us warmly. Upon our arrival, it was time to cook some of the food we had purchased at the market. Later we learned that the family, who did not have modern jobs in the cities, ate best when tourists like us brought them food. To our surprise, a fire was started on the dirt floor in the middle of the kitchen. The home immediately filled with a thick smoke since these nomadic people had no chimneys in their traditional style houses made of a low stone wall and flimsy 2x4s. Without a way for the smoke to escape, we soon found that we could hardly breath and excused ourselves to explore around the home. Outside we found a giant tub for dying clothing, and what looked like a recently demolished outhouse. Our host explained that there was no sewage or septic systems this far from the cities and they had been lucky to have been gifted this outhouse and a way to treat their waste so that it could be safely used for fertilizer later. Unfortunately, a buffalo had not been so excited about the new toile, and decided to destroy it, so they were now back to relieving themselves out in nature – and now, so were we. After our eye-opening lunch experience, we headed over a nearby hill and continued trekking to our host’s sister’s house where we would stay the night. We continued to learn more than we ever thought we would throughout the night. After we cooked dinner together, we sat at a small table on the dirt floor. We were offered a very strong drink, poured from a gas can, and told it was impossible to refuse. With our throats on fire, we started to share stories about our lives. We learned that the Hmong are not actually welcomed, or considered locals in Vietnam. They are somewhat ostracized and continue to survive in harsh conditions with no support from the government. Their main source of medical care is a Shaman who is normally an elderly male who fights off evil spirts in the ill and creates metallic jewelry to keep the spirits away. We learned more about these people in one night than we could have in an entire year at school. After all those stories, it was finally time for bed, but first we needed to go to the bathroom. It was a rainy evening, so we shamefully squatted in the dirt outside the front door in a covered area and later fell asleep counting our blessings and eagerly waiting until we returned to flushing toilets and running water.