This TOPS journey has been an incredibly eye-opening experience for myself. On top of enjoying ourselves as tourists, we were all focused on taking in a closer look of our respective research areas on the ground. An interesting observation is how all the research topics are all intertwined for most part and deals directly with the story of ethnic minorities in Vietnam – their lives, shared culture, differences, aspirations amongst other things. My group dealt with the lives of eco-tour operators in Sapa/Hanoi and that added a special dimension to my experiences. Instead of experiencing as a tourist only, I took a deeper look at the lives of our operators, and saw them for who they were and as an integral part of the ecosystem rather than dismissing them as an afterthought. I initially believed that this would be just another academic trip but I ended up learning and thinking more than I expected.

Sapa is different from other tourist destinations. While many other culturally significant sites are preserved primarily to earn the tourist dollar, imagine the Forbidden City, and are in many ways a relic of the past, Sapa stands out from how the minorities appear to lead their traditional way of lives. When we entered the house of the village shaman, it felt like we were stepping into a bubble where time stopped. While we are usually faced with replicas and guardrails at other tourist destinations, I felt the weight and authenticity of the experience in many small moments like those.

It is easy to paint them with a broad brush and categorize them as mere tour operators in a “backwards” part of the world and leave it as that. But through my interactions with them, I became fascinated with their stories – how they got involved in tourism, how they viewed their culture.

The trek was a wonderful experience and it offered a contrast to the concrete jungles we are (too) used to. As we trekked down from Sapa town to the villages, I found myself admiring the steep rice terraces that adorned the sides of the mountains and found them reflective of the grit and the perseverance of the human spirit and our ability to effect change on our natural surroundings. Most of us (if we could go back 300 years) would have deemed those ravines and mountains unsuitable for agriculture but these minorities managed to skillfully overcome the physical limitations of the land and thrive there.

On a more sobering note, the physical landscape was dotted with plastic trash. Crop yields in the area were showing signs of decline because of climate change. The growing challenge of environmental degradation and a warming climate paint a bleak outlook for the inhabitants of the Sapa valley. Currently, the only form of disposal for these plastic waste is open air incineration which presents a whole host of other issues too, highlighting how these minorities and their traditional way of life are at odds with the new era dawning upon them.

The issue of tradition and culture being at the core of lives and being at odds with the changing reality of the world around them consistently plays out throughout the trip.  While agriculture remains deeply rooted in their traditions, what would become of it when the community begins to accept that the growing tourism pie is a more lucrative one? What will happen to traditional houses when homestays and their higher standards of living become an aspirational goal to look towards? With rising education levels on the back of tourist levies, will younger generations choose to remain in the Sapa Valley or move away in search for better opportunities? What becomes of traditional practices when they are changed to suit the consumption of tourists? These tensions are packed within the valley and I don’t believe there are easy answers to them.

While I am immensely amazed at how the inhabitants have risen to the challenge of managing tourism, I end up somewhat being cynical. While these locals are warm and friendly, I can’t shake the nagging feeling that they are so because I represent potential business. (Did the woman trailing my trek assist me all the way because she marked me right from the start?) They aren’t doing eco-tourism to promote their culture but rather because it is a means to a better life. A metaphor would be a mirrored reflection, wherein the reflection appears real but isn’t. Every part of the experience seems real enough until you peer beneath the veneer and realize the careful execution and curation by the community, even if they are unaware of such collusion themselves. We walked the steep mountain paths to the villages but when I asked our guide whether she took the same path to get to Sapa town, she sheepishly smiled and told me she walks the main concrete road instead. Furthermore, clothing stores and water-powered rice pounding machines are meant solely for tourist consumption only, enhancing the perception that the commercialization of culture has invariably eroded it. However, who am I to deny them a better standard of living? The desire for upward mobility is the same, back home in Singapore and in Sapa. I do admit to being somewhat conflicted, especially when I juxtapose Sapa against our (lack of) culture and home.

In many ways, the Sapa Valley is at a tipping point, a precarious moment where the choices now will dictate its future demise or development. A quote by comes to mind, “A relationship is like a shark. It has to constantly move forward or it dies.” Remaining static isn’t an option for the inhabitants. Change in the form of tourism has arrived on their doorstep and they can only continue moving ahead and make the best decisions for their community. I sincerely hope that they manage to make the right ones.

(On a side note, happy water was amazing. Didn’t manage to see or try happy grass there. That is probably my only regret on the trip.)