North Vietman - Sa Pa - Day 6

A variety of banana blossom grown in Vietnam to create a refreshing light crunch in a salad.
I have only seen large deep red lady finger variety sold in Australian grocery stores.

Once again we woke up to a misty overcast morning in Ta Van, Sa Pa.

Moving out of our Jasmine room at
Lucky Daisy's

Maybe a good thing with the weather as is, because Peter and I are planning to take today at an easy slow pace. Knowing we had to relocate to another room(s), we organised our belongings and left them outside our current room.
Before we headed down the steep slope to breakfast at Bamboo Bar, we made sure we didn't forget anything that would make us hike back up. No kidding, the slope to and from our accommodation is steep and quite slippery on a damp day like today.

After breakfast, we hit the main road towards Ta Van centre about 1km away. On our path, the different architecture of house presented themselves within their own backdrop, making that moment of vision uniquely raw, silent, and sublime. The house on stilts is built on descending land towards the valley and river.

I gather the reason for the stilts is a probability of the river rising when the wet season arrives to this area, as well as elevating for a better view. I also notice the flimsiness of the walls on this structure (and all others) and have come to the conclusion that people build their shelter according to the environment they live in.  In freezing weather or blazing hot, you'd want your home to be well insulated. Whereas, in Ta Van the weather hovers between 13 to 24 degrees Celsius year round, which is a lovely mild temperature that does not require insulation to one's home. The openness allows air flow to breath through and refresh one's living space. On the other side of the road, the houses are perked up by the natural elevation of the hill. I love the simplicity of this house with timber and corrugated iron. You could mistake this structure to be in countryside Japan, China or even bushland Australia.

The common theme of remote spaces and places is the universal simplicity of the bare necessities required for one's existence. I love the practical and simple placement of the sun-shirts and sunhat, umbrella and broom, hung up on the outside the timber wall.

Walking upstream, cages of chickens, roosters and ducks are placed above the water drain. Convenient for the owner of the livestock to keep their area clean of bird manure, and suppose, a source of nutrient for the soil that it decides to settle in downstream.  The next neighbour had their ducks "free range" so to speak, as compared to their caged counterparts. During the day livestock is kept this
way on display for locals looking for a good looking meal. They don't have a butcher were a mass amount of livestock is slaughtered. Here, you buy and kill only what you want to eat that day. No waste. The rest is kept alive, preserved for another day. And when the evening comes, the livestock is released in the owners shed or yard to free-roam until dawn.
As we entered the main strip of Ta Van village, vendors were sitting by their stands along the left side of the road. There were sellers of banana blossoms, bamboo shoots, yam and meat. Across the road was a small sheltered stand, selling small bags of milk. Unsure where the vendor was, I couldn't confirm what type of milk is was - cow, buffalo or goat? Once again, quantities are kept small as you only buy what you need for the day.

Here, not every household has a refrigerator to allow a longer shelf life. This is not a bad thing. Being forced to really think about what you only need to consume for the day, minimises mindless wastage; and you eat produce at its freshest and potent of nutrients (vegetables would have been harvested that day or two ago from the actual plant in the soil, not picked young and gassed in a cold storage warehouse for months - Just how old are the fresh fruit & vegetables we eat?), whereas preserving through refrigeration, produce are in the process of losing its value of goodness (and most likely had little goodness to start with).

We came upon a large shed (Tan Phat Joint Stock Company - FSA Stone) that housed stone, wood and marble carvings. The details of intricacy leave the beholder spellbound and in awe of the skilful artist's gift. Art is the appreciation and respect given to the medium. As an artist, one must observe and dance with the medium, to intimately understand and feel its strength and weakness, where it will give way and when it will not yield. Only when the artist and the medium are one, can a masterpiece emerge. Peter and I spent quite some time looking and marvelling at the carving pieces on display.  Peter bought a small round jewellery box of fine carving details for his daughter Rachel. And I bought myself a small lotus box to house clove spices in.

The open terrace lounging area of La Dao Spa in Ta Van, Sa Pa.

Walking back towards our homestay, we decided to veer off the main road to see what else was beating in this village. I had my heart set on buying an authentic tribal skirt. However, most shops that were along the main road were selling cheap imitation of their traditional costumes or if it was authentic, it was at a tourist price. I was so lucky to have stumbled on a small shop off the main road. The young lady's shop had most things that would appeal to travellers passing through. On her tiny shop wall she had a small collection of authentic tribal skirts, that either she or a female family member had handmade. There was a distinction with these skirts, they held an aura of authentic beauty. The indigo dyed cotton is marked by imperfections of pigmentations. The screenprint of patterns showed variants of pressure and colour intake. And the bottom of the skirt was labouriously hand embroidered with linen yarn, which would have taken the maker hours and days. I purchased this skirt at a good price of VND450,000 which was equivalent to AUD25.00.

Peter got more than he bargained for with this
buffalo souvenir.

Heading back to base by going through the back streets, I got us lost. I assumed most roads would lead to the main road at various points, I was wrong. We hit a couple of dead ends. Peter wasn't impressed by my navigation skills. I had to concede and backtrack all the way. Finally, finding our way, Peter tells me he is keen on buying a stuffed animal as a souvenir. Looking from shop to shop I tried to look for the best looking stuffed toy. Peter, on the other hand, was happy to buy any stuffed animal. I found a shop elevated by the road. I stepped up onto the shop's concrete porch and asked the young fellow to let us inspect his stuffed animals from the display cabinet. He happily obliged, giving me the stuffed buffalo to review.  Peter was happy with the chosen piece and handed over the money to the young man.
As the young businessman took the money, he froze. Literally. Like a slow-motion car crash, the young lad fell off the platform like a statue and hit the road at Peter's feet.  I stood in shock! I watched his eyes roll back and he began to seizure. Peter was quick to support his head from hitting the ground. An English woman passing by advised to turn him on his side. Still, in shock, I lost my ability to speak and reiterate what the lady suggested to the local people in Vietnamese. His face was turning purple and froth was coming out of his mouth. It felt like forever. I was hopeless in this situation. His seizure eventually melted away from his body. He laid there unconscious. Three males (possibly his friends or relatives) carried his body into the house which was to the left side of the shop. An older lady came outside and explained that his seizures happen when he has gone drinking. It was his birthday yesterday and so he went drinking with his mates last night to celebrate. A strange relief to know that the young man's seizure was an occurrence, that this wasn't an out of the blue first time, and that there was a reasonable trigger for his medical condition.  I say strange relief because who in their contemplative mind thinks having a regular episode of pain is acceptable, nothing to worry about. A quote by Stalin parallels my thoughts - a single death is a tragedy; a million deaths is a statistic.

Looking down through the observation hole at La Dao Spa in Ta Van, SaPa.

Walking away from the traumatic experience, we parked ourselves on a swinging bench at La Dao Spa in their open terrace/garden. The view from here is meant to overlook the cascading rice terraces below and across the river. Unfortunately, the weather is thick of mist and fog, we could not see anything further than a couple of metres in front of us. We were hungry. Hoping to order food, we were sadly disappointed to find out this spa did not offer food, only drinks. Peter asked for a pineapple mango smoothie, and I got an egg coffee.

It was late in the afternoon, most restaurants were empty as lunch was over and it was preparations for evening dinner. We found a place where a man was kicking by the kitchen door talking to someone inside. I asked if the restaurant was still open and he nodded up like a true "old gen" gangster.

Waiting for our food to come out of the kitchen, I utilised my time snapping up close shots of banana blossoms and dried rice panicles hanging from the restaurant's structural pillar. Fascinated by the decorative beauty of the rice plant, I had never been up close

Caramelised eggplant dish served
at the Bamboo Bar dinner banquet.

to the rice harvesting process before this trip. I grew up on rice but had not contemplated the full-scale production of producing the white fluffy goodness I love eating so much. The man must have been observing me because he chimed in on my awe-inspiring moment to inform me of the technical names during the process of producing rice. I felt like a school kid listening and learning.
Dinner was organised through the Bamboo Bar as a banquet amongst travellers from various corners of the world. All were guests at Lucky Daisy's homestay accommodation. A couple from Sweden. A couple from Germany. And a family from England. The English mother happened to be the woman witnessing the seizure on the street earlier today. We were still raw from the experience and felt quite surreal that a moment could knock you off your pink-roses travels and grip you into a real-life drama.

Back at the communal lounge at our accommodation (Lucky Daisy's), I captured a photograph of a praying mantis conquering a stuffed horse. Talk about real-life drama, praying mantis eats her mating partner(s).

Want to read from the beginning of my travels, click here: North Vietnam - Hanoi Day 1
Or you could flip to the previous day by clicking on North Vietnam - SaPa Day 5