What do you find by a Vietnamese riverside?

by Neja Rakušček (Slovenia)

A leap into the unknown Vietnam

The most unpleasant morning of my trip in Asia was the morning my crying mother called me to tell me that my beloved aunt is dead. After holding back tears and trying not to wake up my sleeping roommates I gathered all my strength to push the heavy heating blanket off of me and put on all the clothes I had with me to battle the cold. I gathered some essentials, put them in my backpack and headed downstairs. The family I was staying with was happy to pour me cup after cup of the delicious homemade tea after I had politely refused breakfast. The only plan in my head for the day was to find a quiet place to be alone for a while. Sapa in Vietnam gets cold and a bit unpleasant in the early winter. The higher elevation makes it hard to breathe sometimes and the winding road that brings you here leaves you worried and not wanting to think about how you’re gonna have to catch the next night bus to Hanoi. The usual greenery of the hills and the beautiful tea plantations you see in tourist guides get turned into grey hills accompanied by almost constant moody weather. Strangely, it was just what I needed at those moments. I found myself aimlessly walking up the hill, passing the villages and following women with colorful packs, transporting something heavy into their village. When we crossed ways, we briefly smiled like we knew each other from before. When I tried to keep up with their pace I failed. The road I was walking on wasn’t even a road sometimes, just a well of wet dirt that kept swallowing my beat-up shoes. The more I walked, the more I felt the heavy weight of the realization about the morning call and as an absurd contrast saw an increasing number of smiling villagers just going about their day. Countless of times there was a big herd of cows blocking the narrow path where I had to carefully squeeze past them hoping that those large beasts wouldn’t crush me. After a while, the weather took a turn for the worse and it started raining lightly. I got to the riverside when two little girls stopped me to say hello. They approached me with smiles on their faces and open palms. After I gave them the food I had packed they went back home to escape the unpleasant rain, smiling and waving at me. I waved back until they disappeared behind the curve of a rain-soaked hill. The unusual silence fell over the Sapa valley. I allowed myself to sit down by a beautiful riverside and watch the cold water pass me by, taking some of my sadness with it. I was calm. Life, just like the river, is just gonna have to move on.