"You never help me to check my email!"

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It took us twenty seven hours of straight traveling to get here, but it was well worth the back pain and lack of sleep.  We, of course, opted for the cheapest route... third class trains.  Just imagine riding on a train with wooden benches for any length of time.  It's a bit tiring.  The trains probably haven't been cleaned in months.  Smoking is fair game anywhere and there are no open windows bc the weather is getting so cold.  Everyone on the train just sits and stares at you bc you aren't riding in the foreigner train with sleepers, proper airflow and soft seats.  Every move that you make is under a microscope at all times and there is no chance of sleeping bc everyone wants to try and talk to you and ask you one of three staple questions:  "Where you come from?  My name is?  You have boyfriend?"

Once you have answered these questions to pretty much each individual in your boxcar then the security guards and train employees will come over and ask you the same questions.  Vendors will stand with a basket of goods in your face for an uncomfortable amount of time.  A few hours after that, many boys and men will exit the dining (aka "pub") car and ask you the same questions.  I then question whether or not riding the local train is worth the savings.  After three months, I've come to conclude that it's totally worth the savings.  It's tiring.  It's wearing.  It's real.  How else are you going to get the true se asian experience?  I'd rather be hanging with the locals.

A Fire in Sapa.

In the mountains of Northern Vietnam.  About 30 K south of the Chinese border (that's right, I just used kilometers).  Glad to have purchased the winter jackets, Sapa is below freezing.  It's foggy, dreary and drizzling.  There is absolutely no heat in any restaurants, stores or guesthouses.  The first night in Sapa I slept with three comforters, gloves, a scarf and a hat.  We were so chilled that we actually splurged the extra dollar for wood in our "fireplace."  When I asked for the wood the woman replied, "we'll bring the fire to you." 

I was confused.  "How do you bring me a fire?  The fireplace is in our room... I can start my own fire, you don't need to do it for me."

Ten minutes later there was a knock on our door.  An elderly man with a bucket of burning coals entered the room and placed the coals in our fireplace, which looked like an old bread oven.  He leaves the room and two minutes later my eyes are burning.  I was having flashbacks to the time I made a fire and my dad was less than thrilled because I forgot to open up the flu.  Do you have any idea how much smoke that creates?  Dad, you have taught me better than this. I couldn't rectify the situation because there was no flu.  Our fireplace was entrance only... there was no exit for the smoke other than right back into our room.  Oh, dear.  No good.  The smoke that we inhaled... the redness of our eyes... the cold from opening up all the windows and letting the coals die down.  Needless to say, that was our only fire.  We chose blankets from there on out.

Hill Tribes.

One evening we were approached by two girls that looked to be about twelve years old.  They were seventeen and from the Black H'Mong village in the mountains just north of Sapa.  We spent a great deal of time getting to know the girls.  They spoke english well and quickly found a spot in our hearts with their hugs and laughter.  They invited us to hike to their village with them the next morning.  We were grateful and somewhat hesitant... does this hike come with a small fee?  Turns out there was no fee.  The girls were hiking home the next morning to pick up some goods to sell at Sapa's local market and they wanted us to join them on their journey home. 

The next morning we leapt out of bed, grabbed some food from the local market and met up with the girls.  There was a third girl with them, Lan, nineteen.  Lan, Zua, Lulu, Adam (a fine aussie gent), Georgia (the aussie gents  wonderful  aussie gal), Reen and I spent the next three and half hours hiking through the mountains of Vietnam.  The views were stunning.  Terraced rice fields, mountains, a river, plant life, fresh air... everything you could ever imagine ad more.  The girls taught us about edible plants and we sampled a few.  We were shown and warned about the deadly plants, one of which killed Zua's brother.  (He was saddened by his love marrying another man, so he ate a handful of these poisonous leaves and died within five minutes).

We originally told Adam and Georgia that we were from Canada.  In fact, Georgia guessed that we were from Canada because according to her we didn't have "that obnoxious american accent."  Ha.  After spending much of the day with them, the guilt was overwhelming... I came clean and told them we were from the states.   (It' didn't feel right building a friendship based on a non-truth).  We had some great laughs and interesting political discussions.

Lulu, Minong, will always have a place in my heart bc she was the first to approach me and I just fell in love with her immediately.  Comical, grumpy, stubborn, kind and incredibly affectionate.  She was so interested in telling me about her future boyfriend and then learning about each and every member of my family.  Her attention to detail was impeccable.

Zua, Minam, was strong and independent.  Very curious about the western world, but quite aware and cautious of her surroundings at all times.  She wasn't looking forward to getting married and wanted to find a way to stay single for many years to come (a rarity in these parts).

Lan was innocent and young.  An old soul in a little girls body.  Filled with thanks and enough love to keep the world turning for many years to come.  My only fear is that someone will take advantage of her love and her remarkable spirit.

We ran, skipped, monkey walked, jumped and played pickup sticks (with real stones and sticks).  At times, I felt like I was an eighty year-old in the body of a thirteen year-old.  Not quite as invincible as I once used to be.  Then there were times when I was running down the side of a mountain that I felt like I truly was thirteen.  Wearing a crown of fern and spinning in circles with Lulu on my back sent me giggling as if my youth just stopped by to remind me that it hasn't, nor will it ever, leave.

We entered the H'mong village around 12:30.  There were absolutely no other foreigners in sight as we entered the girls' homes.  The children that we saw were either excited or fearful to see us.  A few smaller children actually fled with tears in fear of the big white giants.  The girls made us lunch with the food that we had purchased at the market.  All of this was done over an open fire on the dirt ground of their home.  Noodles, rice, cabbage, tomato, mandarins, bread and cheese.  They made such a small amount of food feed so many of us.  The smiles that these girls had while eating their lunches was priceless... they ate so quickly without leaving a scrap behind.   At one point we caught Zua placing an entire triangle of laughing cow on less than one half a piece of bread.  We all laughed with her as she stuffed it in her mouth and reached for more.

The day was perfect.  I had the memories and enough bracelets to keep the day with me as a reminder of just how good life can be.  A small part of me kept waiting for the moment that someone would try to sell me something or ask me for money, but that moment never came and it made the experience burn that much brighter.  From what I can gather, the girls will occasionally bring tourists to their village and in return they receive a good meal for themselves and their families and a they get in a great deal of practice with the english language.  Rumor has it that this is how the tribal children learn english so well.

We spent the next day hanging around Sapa with the girls.  Oh, and, this is the best part... they have email?!  Here are these girls that live in the mountains with absolute bare necessities and they have email addresses.  I guess some foreigners set them up with email addresses.  Made a stop at the local post office and I logged Lulu into the computer, read her emails to her and typed her response back to the people that had written to her.  She can't read or write in english, but through spoken language and a helpful hand she is able to remain in contact with people all over the world.  Brilliant.