I dared not look down as the bus juddered and jostled, peeling around narrow turns in utter defiance of the 1000-meter drop, mere inches away. Not entirely due to my fear of careening over the cliffside, however, but also because I couldn't take my eyes off of the unreal sight that lay before me. Four hours from my host city in Hanoi, the mountains of the Yen Bai province were unlike anything I’d ever witnessed.
As far as the eye could see, peaks of lush foliage sprawled across the horizon and rose up, peaks disappearing into wispy clouds. Expansive rice paddies traced horizontal grooves into some, making them appear as if blanketed in emerald corduroy. Pops of color in a rolling sea of green, small villages and stilt-houses stood scattered throughout, their multi-colored roofs reflecting the midday sun.
Rare Shan Tuyet tea groves line the roads into the province's center. The high altitude and heavy rain make for perfect conditions for it to thrive.
Despite the gorgeous landscape, I’ll admit that I was hesitant to jump on the opportunity to spend the weekend in Yen Bai with my group of internship peers. The trip entailed budget-stretching, a one-room group sleeping situation, and little promise of AC, but the breathtaking nature was just the start of what was soon to be a worthwhile adventure.
Beginning with a stroll through a cliffside village, I felt a unique mood in the air. It was the little things I noticed first: A couple of dogs lying in the shade, children kicking a soccer ball through the street, a house whose door and windows were open, you could see all the way through, then another one, then one that didn't seem to have any door at all.
It wasn’t long before I understood that the Yen Bai people defy the modern-day norm that I experienced back in the US, one that encourages people to shut their doors and keep to themselves. Instead, they thrive in an environment with a strong sense of local identity, built on the openness of their community and the rich culture of the 30 distinct ethnic groups harbored within.
We wasted no time immersing ourselves in Yen Bai culture, and the hospitality of Yen Bai’s locals enhanced the experience in unexpected ways. We found ourselves in an ethnic clothing shop where the owner enthusiastically explained some historical and cultural significance of the items, even letting us try on some of the headwear.
An interesting look into the traditional clothing of some of Yen Bai’s many ethnic groups.
Stopping for a drink, we were treated to a free cup of traditional red tea and a lesson on how to brew and enjoy it as a medicinal beverage the Yen Bai way.
The most delightful interaction of the trip, however, occurred for me on the following day’s excursion to a nearby river. Coming to a large overpass, we were met by a group of young boys enjoying the summer sun, playing on the bridge and swimming in the waters thirty feet below. As soon as they spotted us, they waved and smiled, greeting us in broken English as we smiled and waved back.
One boy, perhaps 11 years old, skipped up to me with an enthusiastic gleam in his eyes and signaled with his hands as if to say, “Watch this!” Then, in the blink of an eye, he hopped up onto the edge and leapt, assuming perfect cannonball form as he plummeted into the rushing water below. A second after the splash, he bobbed back up, grinning from ear to ear. Not only was I impressed by the formidable feat, but inspired by the friendliness and pure joy that these kids extended toward us, total strangers.
A picturesque view from the balcony of a local tea shop.
I won't lie, I’m grateful to be back in my air-conditioned room in Hanoi, but to sacrifice it for a weekend and take this trip was more than worth it. In two days, I got to experience a whole other side of Vietnam that I would never have come face-to-face with in the city, from hidden caves to the best sticky rice I’ve ever had in my life.
The winding path of Cốc Tình Cave looks straight out of a fairytale.
More than that, I took back with me teachings from interactions with strangers I met along the way. By witnessing the way locals take pride in their culture, I feel more aware than before of the real-life significance that comes with having a sense of local identity, as well as the joy that comes from sharing it.