A Commercial Dilemma in Sapa, Vietnam
Posted Sunday, May 11, 2008, 3:55 AM by Lonely Planet
The overnight train from Hanoi to the Vietnam-China border town of Lao Cai gets in at 4:30am. It's a befuddling time, and it's easy to lose your bearings - especially if you're heading to Sapa. Stay firm, bargain hard, and insist on your destination, though, and you'll end up at the hill station (albeit after more than an hour in a bumpy, crowded minivan).
It's worth it. Sapa is magical: cool, misty and magnificent. The first day we arrived was so foggy that we couldn't see across the street. That didn't stop us from doing a day walk to nearby Cat Cat village, which rewarded us with close-up views of waterfalls and drastically improved lung capacities.
But it wasn't until the next day that we could see what we had been missing: endless, sweeping valley views. Paddies terraced across the hillsides, right down to the rivers. Heavily forested mountains, their tops always invisible. We were looking forward to our 10km walk through the villages dotting the valley floor.
That's when it got interesting. The Sapa region is home to several minority groups, most noticeably the Black Hmong, the Red Dzao and the Dzai groups. All three have their own distinct, mutually incomprehensible languages (Vietnamese is the language of commerce). Most members of these groups live a subsistence lifestyle, growing crops and occasionally selling the surplus for agricultural supplies and equipment.
As we walked, several Black Hmong women gathered around us, peppering us with questions and telling us stories of their lives. Their command of English, French and Chinese was admirable. They talked with us all the way along the mountainside. And when we crossed from their village to the next, the solicitations began. "Buy from me?" several asked, displaying beautifully crafted blankets, dubiously put-together bracelets, and cheap trinkets. We smiled and declined politely, but they persisted. "We walk all the way with you, we talk with you, and now you don't buy from us?"
We felt torn. We really didn't want anything. Our packs were full enough for our liking, and we had resolved to buy nothing we didn't need on this trip. We hadn't asked the women to walk with us, and we felt vaguely upset that their friendliness may only have been a commercial front (and yes, we knew that was a possibility from the beginning).
But some of the goods they were selling were of high quality. The prices were reasonable. They weren't begging or asking for handouts - they were supplementing their meager incomes with a potential windfall from tourism. And they had definitely enhanced our experience of the valley. Would it be so bad to exchange some money for their handicrafts, despite the fact that we didn't want them?
What would you have done?
- Vivek Wagle
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7 Comments:
Hey Vivek. We faced the same problem while trekking through Sapa! The locals just walked alongside us right from the start. Initially I didn't want to talk to them out of fear that they'll start asking me to buy their handicrafts. But halfway through we just started talking and they even made lovely err crowns for us (they used plants and flowers!)At the end of the trek, they used that same phrase 'we walked with you you dont want to buy from us?' and we felt so bad! Ended up spending way more than we should have on bags and trinkets and bracelets! haha!
You know, the girl i walked and talked with most of the way in Sapa didn't pressure me to buy at all. She was seventeen - we talked a lot beyond the standard "How old are you?", "How many brothers and sisters do you have?" questions of the older women. When we parted, she half-heartedly asked if i wanted to buy anything, and said "If you don't buy, it's ok". Maybe i should have bought something, but i didn't want any more luggage, and she seemed fine with that.
Hey Shan Min,
Sounds familiar - we were definitely not the only ones with this experience! Hopefully your expenditures didn't break the bank.
Anonymous,
Good to know that the pressure is variable!
- vivek
Anonymous : Wow you're lucky then! We were surrounded by so many of them. And my aunty had 3, 4 people hold her hand while going down the slopes so she had to buy tons of stuff. lol
I find it pretty sad that they have to walk for hours everyday hoping we tourists will buy some stuff from them to earn a living.
By the way did you get anything Vivek?
Yeah, not a surprising story. In fact I found that in much of Vietnam.
Those types of pressure sale tactics guised as friendliness can be a bit annoying but after a while you come to expect it. However annoying it is, you have to understand where they are coming from. They are just trying to survive and make a buck. Sometimes they walk with you just in the hopes you will buy a can of coke or something. I dont even really like drinking coke but I sure drank a lot of them in Vietnam!
I figure, it comes with the territory and helping out some of the vendors can go a long way. I just tend to elect helping the ones that aren't too pushy.
We didn't end up buying anything from the ladies. However, we have been trying to help by patronizing fair-trade shops and cooperatives throughout the region. We're trying to make sure our money goes to locals wherever possible.
It's funny - I considered that I'd be so much more likely to buy from the women had they set up a fixed-price store (with goods at three or four times the prices they were asking!) at the end of the walk.
Naturally, we had the same situation. We walked with one young girl the whole way though (I wonder if she is the same one the other poster spoke of!) She was so charming and beautiful, that I would have gladly helped her out no matter what she was selling. As it happened, the embroidery on her collar was so fine, that I bought all the enbroidered indigo bags she had to sell. I didn't love them, and didn't know what I would do with them, but I have decided to hang them all together on a long bamboo pole. I don't know what anyone else will think when they see them, but I will think of her and the delightful afternoon we spent with her.
Sally
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