September 28

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We are now on the coast about three hours from Hanoi in Minh Chau on the China Sea. This is the extension part of the trip, two people have left us. It is very hot and humid. This heat brings memories of summer days in Gettysburg with the humidity and heat shimmering off the pavement and grass. I hate this kind of heat. It takes everything you have to function in it. And getting out of the air conditioned van into the sweltering heat is not for the faint of heart.

After about 3 hours we arrived in a small village whose speciality is making incense. They are known for the black incense which they apply by hand. The black incense is used for greeting in the New Year and other ceremonies. The red incense which smells more like cinnamon is done by machine and is used more widely. It seems villages around Vietnam have their own specialities. Some make cinnamon bark from the trees, others work turning trees into plywood, today’s village made incense which is exported all over the world. Drying in the sun are rows and rows of these incense sticks, while others form a beautiful round shapes. The black incense has a red center.

After walking around the village we piled into the van and took off for a fish market. This was along the coast with brightly painted fishing boats tied up at wharfs that were made from old boats. I brought my small sproket printer and had fun giving out photos. We spent quite a while photographing people, and looking at an assortment of fish. We returned later in the day to photograph the fishing boats that had come in, but there were few people around.

We were there for about 40 minutes and our guide caught up with us to inform us the police had insisted we stop photographing as we were near the South China sea and the border. Photographing was not allowed. We only got a warning, no jail for us.

Tomorrow we are up for the dawn patrol. a silk weed farm, and more photographing. This will be our last day. It has been an amazing trip. We have been where no tourists have gone and had many unique experiences. We have had the opportunity to engage with the local people, get our picture taken with many of them, and to enjoy a truly authentic experience. Vietnam is an amazing beautifu country. I feel better having been here and received an education on how Vietnam has pulled itself up after the war and to feel the warm friendly people acceptance of us has been an eye opener for me. I still think about what we did to these people and this country, how we poisoned them with Agent Orange and killed their families. I do not think I would be so welcoming.

September 25 & 26

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We have been up since 4:30 AM on the dawn patrol. However, dawn does not come until 5:15. We are in a completely different environment than the northern part of Vietnam. This area is populated by the Thai people, who are not from Thailand. However, the Thai influence is very strong. The houses have thatched roofs, and are built up on stilts with the living area above. Talk about an open floor plan. There is not a wall anywhere on the second floor and few support beams as the roof carries most of it. For privacy, which there is none, the parent’s bed has a curtain around it. No furniture except cushions and low tables.

Yesterday we walked to a “swimmng hole” which was fed by a natural mountain spring. I expected the water to be cold, it wasn’t as cold as the water in Vermont. It was refreshing after walking two miles in the heat and humidity to get there. The “ladies” demonstrated our Olympic synchronized team swimming abilities for the men in the group. They would not join us. No fun at all.

Back to the dawn patrol. Finally the morning light began to creep along the rice fields illuminating the fog hanging throughout the mountains. A few motor bikes came by, the dogs alerted the family to my presence, and the roosters made sure everyone was awake. Although there was no sunlight peaking through the mountains, there was a brush of pink to the clouds. Slowly people began to make their way to the rice fields, waving to me as I went by with my camera. I was completely alone on my walk having the expanse of fields and mountains to myself.

I felt it was a privilege to be in this moment, across the world, in a place where I thought I would never be. A place where the mention of the name, Vietnam, created anxiety in me. And now years later, it is as if this beautiful world had not been destroyed by war. As if we did not poison the people who lived here. I wonder what we were doing here in the first place, fighting a war to fight communism. Today, after all the killing, the sorrow, the grief, Vietnam is communist, it is a leading economic community in Asia. The world has not been destroyed. But once again, we have invaded another country, Iran, for what is perceived as a threat to humanity. I wonder who is the perceived threat?

September 23 and 24th

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A day of traveling with not much of an opportunity to take pictures. We arrived in our resort which was quite the change from our previous stays. High on a hillside individual cabins are arranged to fit naturally into the landscape. Unlike our previous stays, ( we won’t discuss the palatial gold palace) the cabins were very upscale. It is obvious they cater to tourists. We were greeted with Hibiscus tea, and neck warmers to help us relax while we got our rooms. A large golf cart vehicle brings you up and down the resort which is a good thing. It is about 400 feet vertical from cabin to restaurant. A pavilion with hot springs is at the bottom of the hill, and the restaurant at the very top. The road switches back and forth, passing our cabins, pass reception, passing an animal park with horses, goats and a chicken run stretching out along the hillside. No chickens crossing the road here, Finally at the very top is the restaurant. Breakfast was fantastic with a mixture of western and eastern food. The evening meal offers the same variety, so we are all excited to have our western dinner tonight.

Yesterday was Children’s Day. It is like our Halloween where the children dress up and walk from the school following a truck that is lit up with a dragon on the back. They come back and sit in their designated area on tarps and get bags of candy and soft drinks. There is much excitement and noise as they open up their bags. We arrived in the school yard at least an hour before this event. As you can imagine, we were swarmed by the children. We took pictures, they took pictures with our phone, the boys were showing off, while the girls would giggle and come up to us shyly. Many tried their English on us. As time passed by the music was turned on and kids danced on and off the stage. I joined with five little girls and we danced in a circle. I taught them to go under two girls arms and twist around. All fun for sure.

The Thai ethnic group is in this area. These are not the same as the people from Thailand. These people originally came from China. There food is different from the Hmong, and I might say, is better. Their traditions are also different than the Hmong. We happened upon a funeral last night which was interesting to see them building the structure that carries the person. Today we saw them off to the burial, all dressed in white and other finery. The tradition is to bury the person in a certain section of the rice fields and then after 5-7 years they dig them up again. If there are only bones left they take them to the cemetery, have another service and bury them with the family. Or they bury them back in the field until there are only bones.

Almost a full moon tonight creating beautiful moonlight, as I sit here on the porch of our cabin listening to the cicadas singing their song.

September 21

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Back on the motorbikes for a climb to the bamboo forest. This was more terrifying than the ride yesterday. It started out what has become the norm, 3-5 foot paths, steep hills, switchbacks curving in on each other, dogs, chickens, cattle, and the motor bike with grass sticking out from the back of the bike, threatening to knock you over as you pass. This time, there was a toll halfway up, which slowed down the progress. As if to make up for it, my driver zooms full sped plunging down a steep bank only to start up an incline that was half washed out. My last look, before I closed my eyes, was a tire width path with stones popping up everywhere, and a drop to nowhere you would want to look. In your mind you imagine being flung somewhere along the hillside, crashing downward. It makes no difference if your helmet fits or not, as it would do little to protect you. As you are hanging on, you are bouncing from side to side, the motorbike is rocking this way and that, coming close to the edge one minute and seemingly bouncing off the bank on the other side.

At this moment, you are asking yourself why it is so important to see a bamboo forest when your life is hanging by a thread. You imagine the phone call to your kids informing them their mom died while sailing off a motorbike into an abyss. Oh and if that is not enough, you finally get to the top of the steep hill where the path turns into a 2 foot path when down comes a loaded motorbike full of hay. The path maybe widened to 3 feet for the rest of the journey as you continue to climb ending at the top of the mountain. Your fellow travelers are either behind you, or are waiting with expressions of horror as you arrive. A group hug seemed to be necessary to calm our beating hearts.

The rest of the morning was spent walking through the bamboo forest and practicing portrait photography with a model dressed in her traditional Hmong clothes. We had an opportunity to really spend time with lighting filtering through the forest, and different setting. Lunch was served at a Hmong family home who specialized in batik. Then back on the motor bikes, waiting in anticipation for the single track, rock strewn path you had traversed earlier. By this time we were seasoned travelers prepared for the terror and the faith that we would come back to the road alive.

Off to another mountain, shaped like a dinosaur’s spines, but the light was too harsh. We stopped for a coffee. I mentioned to the guide that it would be nice if we could find an intimate spot to photograph rice workers without tourists in the shots. This is difficult because it is hard to stop on the narrow roads. However, we climbed to the second floor of a coffee shop only to discover rice workers right below us. I decided to go around the back of the building and there I found a path to walk down to the rice fields. An adorable puppy followed us as we descended the steep narrow path. Once down to the bottom we were able to photograph the workers at the same level.

Back in the van after an hour heading to the mountain range, with motor bikes, only to pull in as a rain storm began. Change of plans to head back to the lodge, with a walk through the forest on the way back if it stopped raining. Which it did. As we headed out on the path, views of rice fields, sunset reflections in water, and evening shadows advancing on the mountain with moon rise over the trees. Of course, we all stopped to get pictures when after 10 minutes our guide informed us that we had an hour walk ahead of us. None of us realized the “walk” was really a hike, nor did we realize our vans had left and were meeting us at the other end of the trail. Sometimes it is helpful to know the plan, but flexibility is the key word when you are on a trip like this.

We were rewarded with dinner of crispy fish, and the promise we could sleep in late (7:00pm), have a leisure morning before we left. The guides and our leader seemed very impressed that 8 older people were able to do what we accomplished, which is why I believe they decided to give us a “rest.” Or maybe they needed it more than we did.

September 21

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It is actually 5 AM on the 22nd. The roosters are sounding the alarm and I can’t sleep due to the rock solid bed. Old bones need soft landings. I am watching dawn arrive from my cabin in the mountains. fog surrounds us, as darkness did last night. I have yet to experience this eco lodge’s as we arrived too late. Lighted pathways led us to our individual cabin.

Our six hour ride yesterday was interspersed with stops to photograph people drying and grinding tea leaves for preparation to send to be packaged. Frequent stops created views of rice fields clinging to mountainsides, interspersed with tea plantations and corn. Layers upon layers of patterns, and color inspired us.

This region is known for the most beautiful rice fields in Vietnam. Being more accessible than our previous location we began to experience more tourism. Where we did not see any foreigners before, we began to see more buses and obvious tourists. Having been spoiled and privileged with no one stepping into our photographs with a cell phone or posing to take selfies, we did not take kindly to the intrusion.

Information as to our daily activities comes slowly, or as we all suspected, purposely being sprung on us at the last minute. We found out we would again be on the back of motorbikes. The particular viewpoint we were going to was up at the very top of a steep mountain. A toothy grinning teenager motioned me onto his bike. Hardly on the back, he took off as if we were being chased by bandits into traffic, cutting across oncoming traffic to a narrow concrete pathway and up a hill at about a 40 percent grade. Hanging on the back, we sped around switchback curves, narrowly missing chickens, dogs, people and oncoming motor scooters while edging to the side of ten thousand drop into the valleys.

Arriving at the top, we experienced our first “tourist” experience. Shops rented various degrees of fancy Hmong dresses to wear while walking in the rice fields. People old and young hire photographers to come while they model. Groups of the younger generation gather to take selfies or Instagram style pictures, never bothering to look at the incredible view around them. It is all rather bizarre.

Once over the shock of this intrusion into one of the most spectacular sites I have ever experienced, we were able to walk away from the crowd and find areas with no tourists to photograph. Although I will say, the scene provided a form of “street photography.” Meanwhile, in the valley were workers cutting and thrashing the rice into a large container. The heat was oppressive and you wonder how they could stand it, dressed head to toe with protective clothes to keep them from getting sun burned.

The contrast with valley workers probably making three dollars an hour to the money spent by the tourist at the top shocked us. I imagine it is not much different in the U.S., with people posing against mountain scenery. The fields were beautiful with marigolds, and purple flowers planted along the rice paddies, wooden huts dotted throughout, and the ever changing shadows on the mountains, it creates an unforgettable scene.

One more ride up to the top of another mountain, this time I chose an older woman as my driver. The road was not as steep. I am becoming used to this form of getting to the top of mountains and for my 81 year old self I am happy not to be climbing up in this altitude and steepness.

Today brings another motor scooter ride and lunch in a family home. We are still among the Hmong tribes. The colors and patterns of Vietnam is what I will take with me.

September 20

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Another day of sun, what luck, as Hanoi has been flooded. Here in the mountains we have had great weather. Surprise of surprises…what did I wish for last night? Some peanut butter! Breakfast today consisted of toast, fried eggs, cheese, and peanut butter. We were all delighted. Such a treat.

Off to the Sunday market about 10 minutes away. This one was so congested, it was impossible to get a clear shot of anyone or any activity. I finally came to the conclusion it would be good to move toward the food area and clothes as there is less activity. There I was able to get pictures of people eating, conversing, cooking and generally enjoying themselves. We spent about an hour and a half there, dogging mopeds, making friends with lots of people, some who spoke some English, but mostly it was sign language.

Later in the afternoon we took off for the rice fields and a town nearby. The fields were lovely, but the sun was still harsh so we went into town to photograph and waited until the sun began to set. At the very end of the market we came upon a friendly game of Chinese chess and spent a long time with them. The backdrop of a green door, kids watching their fathers, and the bantering back and forth added to the picture taking.

This area has enchanted us with fields of rice growing next to bubbling rivers, daily commerce being conducted, and the backdrop of high mountains with billowing clouds slowly moving across the sky. No other tourists to be seen, just eight of us wandering throughout the markets and fields and engaging with whomever we can. There are few places one can travel that still maintains the daily comings and goings, untouched by tourism.

After three nights in this ridiculous hotel we are happy to move on tomorrow. Our hotel has gold everywhere, Trump would love to stay here. It has 108 rooms and we were the only 12 staying here. It is owned by a woman in her forties and from what we understand it is not even close to making a profit. She owns several hydro plants so I think she does not worry about filling her hotel,

September 19

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Food alert! I am good with rice noodles, and chicken broth, and fairly benign chicken parts for my breakfast. But I am not OK with a huge round basket full of animal parts. Presentation was one quarter of a large basket platter offering pig intestines, next quarter included clobbered chicken parts with skin, tendons, fat, and the bones. The third quarter consisted of pork fat with a tiny bit of meat, and the fourth quarter was a rectangle of God knows what translated as “meatloaf.” However, he sticky rice was delicious with a bit of fish sauce and ground peanuts topped with strange stringy looking greens. I am dreaming of hamburgers, yogurt, raspberries, peanut butter, bread, cheese, and cold water.

Up at 5 AM and on the road by 5:30. Our destination was an hour and a half away to a Saturday market. Upon arrival we ate our rice noodle soup with about 70 people in what felt like an auditorium. Sitting next to me was a mother and her son, who shyly gave us a smile, he then went back to slurping his soup. After breakfast we headed into the market which was more diverse than the local food market we experienced the evening before. This market not only Hmong people selling goods, but red and black Dao selling.The way to identify the red and black Dao is by the woman’s head dress. Some older women had black teeth, that having been a sign of beauty. They stained their teeth with beetle nuts. I bought several different pieces of cloth to add to my collection as the various cloths were embroidered with beautiful designs.

After the fabulous lunch I described above, we got back on the bus and headed for a national park where a winding path took us a mountain to a most stupendous view. On the way up, we came upon young girls resting by motorbikes. As we photographed them, an older woman and a young girl came climbing up a steep hill beside us, bringing enormous bags of potatoes on their backs. The girls were 15 and had to quit school to work in the fields because the families needed them to make money. It is sad to see these girls cannot follow a dreams.

After leaving this park, we went to a bridge where the local people were drying corn. The corn lay on tarps on the cement payment in the boiling hot son. Small pathways made way for motorbikes carrying huge bags, up to 8 at a time, to a central area. Meanwhile small children napped in the shade of small straw covered huts, and children played in the river, catching frogs or floating with the current. The valley floor of rice fields gave way to towering mountains in the distance. A twelve hour day, but worth every minute of it

September 18

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Awakening to a rainy day we had a leisure morning. Our plans were cancelled due to the rain which most of us were happy as we were all tired and wanting to catch up on things. Several people walked through the village to explore the handiwork they were offering for sale, while others worked on their computers.

We left around 1:00 PM for our next destination which is the city of Sin Has. This is the most bizarre place. It is a town built by the government and it looks like no one lives here. But even more bizarre is the hotel we are staying at. We left a place that was rustic, full of vibrant Hmong families and arrive at this hotel which is huge, grand, and no one is around. The front entrance is easily over 15 feet high and opens into a large cavernous marble lobby. Trump would be in seventh heaven in this place with gold everywhere. Leaving behind our lovely village to arrive in this disgusting hotel was quite a shock. But they do have laundry service which after 4 days of not having any clean clothes to wear, is luxury.It turns out nothing dries here because it is so humid.

After a rest we went to the food market filled with tons of vegetables, fruits and all manners of meat. It was better not to examine the meat too closely. From the live ducks and chickens, to the cats and dogs available, I thought I would not be able to eat dinner. The market was lively,with mopeds darting here and there full of nightly shoppers buying fresh food to take home for dinner. And I mean fresh, one pan of fish splashed so energetically I got my foot soaked. Meanwhile, I could have picked out my very own live chicken or duck to have it slaughtered, cut up into pieces and even cooked for me. Thankfully that was not required of me, or I would definitely become a vegetarian.

Tomorrow 5:00 wake up call and 5:30 hit the lobby.

September 17

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Another dawn patrol, 6 AM instead of 5AM, a whole hour more of sleep, except who slept? Our bungalow was very cozy, the views were beautiful, but the altitude was a factor in not sleeping. I have no idea what it is, but I am sure that is one of the reasons I was awake off and on. No one could be this tired and not sleep.

This morning began with no rain (yea), a gathering of all of us at “the platform” where Shap and a few others stormed the coffee hut to order their favorite “new” coffee drink; Vietnamese coffee (super strong) and evaporated milk. Kind of like drinking a frappicino. The whole process took about 45 minutes so we all roamed around looking for photo opportunities.

The rest of the morning was spent wandering the village and taking pictures. I brought my sproket printer with me to be able to print photos from my cell phone and give to people. One woman in particular, who I had photographed before, was holding her grandbaby; so I took a quick snapshot of her. She was amazed and happy with the photo, she was showing it to everyone. I am not sure she has seen herself before, but with her holding the baby it was very special to her.

The main method of transportation here are mopeds/motorcycles. It was announced at lunch we would be taking these for the afternoon to explore the rice and tea plantations as the roads to these areas were difficult to drive with a van or car. Now if you have not figured out by now, the youngest in our group is in her 60’s and the oldest 83. All these young Hmong men arrive on the scene like a motorcycle gang from the hell’s angels. Except they are all about 20 years old and have two kids or more. I chose the shortest bike figuring I would be lucky to get my legs over the top of the seat, My driver was probably on the high side of 21. I informed him he was driving his grandmother and to take it easy. No fear here, he was very careful going down hills and kept a nice steady pace. Although the downhills were so steep I think I crushed him into the handlebars.

Imagine misty steep lush green hills, curved roads folding back into each other, with sweeping views of rice and tea plantations throughout the lower fields. The sheer beauty of riding through the countryside with layers of dark green tea plants complimenting the florescent green of the rice paddies, the light blue of the mountains, fading to grey and purple in the distance with billowing clouds drifting lazily, it was an experience enhanced by the freedom of the motorbike.

Stopping at a tea plantation we photographed the women and men working in the fields. Soon the women pulled out their phones and it became a frenzy of photo opportunities happening. Everyone was laughing and posing with each other and doing all kinds of stupid photographs.The women dressed in their traditional clothes and us, head to toe in Patagonia.

The afternoon ended with a beautiful valley full of rice fields with the fading sun painting the tips of the rice plant gold.

Evening brought us back to our rooms, dinner then a performance by some of Hmong people. A member of our group, Tom returned the favor by singing Bob Dylan’s song “Forever Young” and talked about how important this trip means to all of us. Again remarking of how no matter what music, dance, and performance is one of the best ways to communicate in a world.

September 16

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Too tired to do anything more than download some pictures last night. It is now 5 AM on September 17th. I had no real concept of what “going north of Sapa” as we had spent an hour getting to Sapa and we were told we had 5 more hours to go. The road took us on steep winding roads with steep drop offs plunging deep into valleys. Definitely a vomit experience for those prone to car sickness.

With steep terrain, plunging valleys, mist covering the soaring mountains, one has time to really take in the country side and reflect. Here were the rice fields and tea plantations of so many images of my youth during the Vietnam war. We were in an area that was next to the Chinese border and not really where Americans were stationed. But still, looking into the moist, rainy landscape of the jungle and the hot humidity, I wondered how any of the men who fought in Vietnam could cope with these conditions. Carrying all the heavy equipment, the terror of this dense growth, with danger threatening at any moment, it seems impossible to believe we sent any troops into that kind of experience. Humans do horrible atrocities to one another and once again there are bombings, and the killing of people who just want to live and take care of their families. I feel deep pain when I think of what we did to the environment and people here.

Now Vietnam seems to have prospered with the help of many countries. But the people we talk to feel the government is solid and have enforced strict rules making drugs illegal with very severe consequences. They also provide housing for the homeless, helping them to be able to survive on their own. Children have grown up with no memory of a time of war, but those of us that are old enough still bare witness to what happened in the past because we can still remember how many men died in our youth. It touched everyone, the draft loomed over every male we knew. What was your draft number, how to get a deferment, who was leaving for Canada and where was your next protest? This was all a part of our daily life.

We arrived in a beautiful Hmong village where the different families have built cabins for home stay experiences. The steep road to the first set of cabins brought us to a landing area where the views down the valley were breath taking. They divided us up, with four people on the flat area, two one steep level up and the oldest people in the group, Dorothy, Shap and me got the longest, steepest, hill to climb up to our cabins. We have to traverse the road to go up, stop, breathe, then repeat going down, knees screaming the entire way. Meanwhile the youngest get the nice flat lawn. Day four will bring a new experience. We are having a fabulous time.