“I didn’t know my face could have this much stuff on it. It’s salt and dirt crust. It doesn’t feel like skin” -Marisa
So that’s the vibe right now. We’ve been hiking since about 9:30 this morning and it’s 4:31 now. It’s probably the least hot and least humid place we’ve been on this trip so far and yet. Granted, there was a lot of mud and a lot of up hill (and wearing pants and long sleeves. My inability to properly put on sunscreen has been made very apparent by this trip and I no longer wish to be Crispy) so it’s understandable. We’re done for the day though and the place that we’re home staying at is Nice. They have a patio that overlooks the mountains and we’re sitting here now, sipping on some tea and watching the fog roll in.
(Also guess who figured out you can insert pictures. Now you’ll never have to read another one of my attempted descriptions and think “what the fuck am I supposed to be visualizing?” You can just see it. I guess I could also go back and add pictures so you won’t have to think that ever.)
Our guide, Lily, (bread winner, human Swiss Army knife, umbrella wielder, and made of magic) told us that we got really lucky with the weather today. It was supposed to be raining and foggy but it ended up being very clear. She said it can get so foggy that you can barely see five feet in front of you, which I feel like could be cool for an Experience, but not for the Views.
I can understand the reality of the fog now. The mountains are layered and the fog is making its way in between them and smoke is rising up from the valleys where people are burning the rice plants they’ve already picked. But the view is still unreal despite (or maybe because) of the fog. It almost looks like a set back painting. But it’s not. I can see people motorbiking up the roads and the clouds moving and changing with the wind. The scenery here just absolutely dwarfs you, so it’s hard to conceptualize it as something that’s real.
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It’s 6:55 am. I just slept for somewhere around ten hours and am now listening to some chickens cluck their way around the garden outside of our room. Last night sort of derailed after one of the hosts came out and put a plate of homemade garlic fries in front of us. I think we all almost cried. Garlic fries + exhaustion + that view? I dare you not to tear up. Even our guide, who said she doesn’t really like American food, was into them.
And then there was Dinner. We could hear them making it from where we were sitting. Homestays are odd (don’t get me wrong, this is one of the coolest things ever and I’m very thankful to be housed and fed, just the way it makes me feel is odd) because you’re living at someone’s house that you don’t really know and they’re doing so much for you and you know your grimy goblin ass doesn’t deserve it. You just walked a mountain, you weren’t out working in the fields all day. It’s like when you were over at a friend’s house when you were young and you wanted to be helpful but you had absolutely no idea how to go about doing that for a Parent with your uncoordinated adolescent body and sticky apple juice hands (I.e. we wanted to help with dinner but there was also the visceral fear that we would irrevocably mess it up). While it would have been cool to help and see how they make the food taste like That, our cooking help wasn’t needed and we sat down for dinner without ruining anything.
I know I say every meal is incredible/life-altering/-insert any positive adjective here-, but seriously. Every. Meal. I don’t know how I’m going to go back to the way I was eating in at home (not my mom’s cooking, she’s a Saint Of Food, but mine. Nachos just aren’t going to cut it anymore). The meats are all phenomenal and I always love rice. But there were two clear winners here.
The first was the pumpkin. They’re green here, not orange. I’ve never had pumpkin at home (barring pumpkin pie) and I just can’t imagine it tasting any kind of good. This pumpkin tastes amazing and grows over everything. I saw some on a roof that had full on gourds and everything. They chop it up super fine and do some magic on it. I don’t even know what but my God. I’ve never been happier with a vegetable (or fruit? I guess? Not super clear on fruit/vegetable delineation these days).
And then there’s the chili lime sauce. It’s spicy and I would sell my soul to have a bottle of it. It tastes a little odd at first and feels a little bit like someone just punched you in the nose, but I’m down to get hit for That Flavor.
Something else we had at dinner was Rice Wine.
When you get offered free alcohol, you take it. Right? Even if you died the last time you drank rice wine and the taste makes your throat seize a little.
It’s the polite thing to do.
I don’t know how many the homestay host had, but she definitely took this as her chance to assert dominance over us and display some serious Raw Power. I took my first shot and sipped my second, like a thankful guest. Kelly and Marisa didn’t drink theirs, like heathens.
And guess who had to finish their drinks when they wouldn’t drink them?
You think you’ve bonded with people by suffering and traveling the world together and they leave you high and dry when the chance for peak suffer rolls around.
Traitors.
But it’s fine, I’m not bitter.
After dinner was Bath Time. About 20 minutes into our trek (after we were already dying), our guide told us about The Baths you can get at the homestay. They go out and pick 12 different kinds of plants for this bath and it’s supposed to fix everything that’s wrong with you. And Marisa has her knee, I have The Worm (sick and loitering near death’s door), and Kelly is just down. And it’s also about 5 USD in total. So.
And now we’re full, I’m a little lit, and it’s time to bathe.
The Baths end up being two barrels in a small room. Kelly and I went first. The barrels are also very small and figuring out how to get myself in required more brain power than I care to admit.
But before we can really talk about The Bath, I need to introduce Bougie Aunt. As we were making the final ascent to our homestay, this woman in Chanel slides, shorts, and a lacy pink top bypasses us with ease. And then turns around and starts taking pictures of us. Granted, I would have taken a picture of me too if I saw someone suffering that much while walking up a hill. She also takes this time to FaceTime someone and show us to them as she marches on.
And we end up at the same place. Our guide translates for her and says that she loves all things American and she shows us pictures of her next to a couple of Fords and her Louis V sunglasses. She also has a dollar bill in the back of her phone case.
At the time of the baths, Bougie Aunt is lit and keeps opening the door on us as we try to fit our Long Bodies into the space provided. Everyone is laughing. There are pictures. They will not be appearing here, or in public. Ever. I feel like at this moment I should mention that I’m about 1.5x the size of any given person in this country. I’ve nearly hit my head on so many ceilings and it’s a little difficult to fold up enough to eat with any kind of decency. But people seem entertained by it, so I’m glad that my difficulties are not in vain But anyways, Bougie Aunt eventually left us to boil in peace. And boil we did. But there was also a cold water tap in the wall, and I have never been more grateful for ice water. Pouring a bucket of that on my head was like invoking the power of an ancient Winter God that scraped its fingers through my hair and down my scalp until it had the crown of my head in the palm of its hand and it leaned down and whispered its message into my ear.
(It felt good.)
After that is really a blur. I do remember that I had to pull down the mosquito net that was over my bed, which made me feel very safe and secure, even though it’s only netting. But I had struck the perfect chord of warm, exhausted, and full and just passed out.
But all of that was just at the homestay. The actual march today was wild too.
We started in Sa Pa Town, which looks like something straight out of the ski towns of Europe. Hanoi has a euro-vibe too, but Sa Pa Town is a definite fusion of the two, with all the store lights and motor bikes combined with French style buildings and street facing cafés. An older woman followed us as we were making our way out of the town. She was very nice, but we weren’t sure why she was coming with us. Our guide eventually told us that she was unaffiliated with the company and that she would probably hike with us for a couple hours to sell us some bags. Which, now that we’ve finished the day, is vastly impressive. She was probably around 60 and was definitely wearing sandals. Not that she wouldn’t have totally beat us out on the trail (it’s not hard to do) but the concept of hiking that far on a bet that someone is going to buy something from you is dedication. We eventually told her that we didn’t have enough space to buy anything from her. Maybe I’m just a sucker, but it’s really hard to tell people no, especially when they had been ready to commit a few hours out of their day to walk a mountain to get you to buy something.
From there we marched out through homes and some unidentified crops before the view opened up and we could see the whole valley. It’s one of those places that makes you feel very very small. The rice paddies are carved out of the mountains and the valley. From a distance they look like swirling lines and patterns that were set up on purpose for view rather than function. There are also rivers that cut through the valley and bring water to the paddies. We got to hop across them via rock and walking stick finesse. I felt like a cool wilderness explorer, out roaming the land.
Lily was telling us about growing up in the valley and how her and her friends would roam the land, play in the rivers, and make mud men. The 8 year old in me that used to make mud cities in my backyard and wanted nothing more than to be released into the wild was really really jealous. Especially as we walked on the barriers between rice paddies. I would have loved this even more as a kid.
After we crossed a few rivers and did some sharp decline (mostly slipping) we got to the valley road. We’re walking when we start hearing what sounds like a man making repetitive announcements on a megaphone. It’s gets louder and louder until a guy on a motorbike with a huge bowl strapped to the back comes over the hill. Lily flags him down and he pulls out two buns (it’s bahn bao and I love it) from this metal bowl and then continues on his way. This was the best moment ever. Like, imagine. You’re exhausted because you just walked up and then down some serious mountain terrain. You don’t really go outside. You’re not used to this. You’re sweaty and tired but mostly hungry. And then this beautiful man comes up over the hill bearing fruits in the form of buns like the best version of an ice cream man.
There was so much yesterday and I feel like if I gave everything the detail it deserved, this would never end and I would never get up and start Day 2 of The Trek. We walked through a bamboo forest. Our guide told us about all kinds of cool plants. One was this yellow flower and she casually drops that if you eat it, it will definitely kill you. She goes on to say “but if you dry it and make it in to tea” like something better will come of it, but finishes with “it’ll kill you faster”. Which, great.
I also got answers about the cool festival thing. The government building of the district had a huge star float built and waiting in the courtyard. Our guide said they go in to town and compete with the other villages. She also said that it was a full moon festival that happens in September.
Yeah, I don’t know. It’s time to rise and walk some more.
Until next time, Godspeed.
(An Addition: Lily told us that the homestay people told her that Bougie Aunt has already taken three baths in the two days she’s been here. I aspire to be that level of Bougie one day.)
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