Interviewing our guides and hosts offered us a glimpse into their lives, motivations and aspirations which I found extremely insightful, especially because these were areas I was personally curious about as well. Although I expected to encounter more challenges in communication, most of the locals we interacted with were proficient in English and hence interaction proved to be quite effortless. However, I felt that there was insufficient time and familiarity for me to understand the locals as deeply as I would have hoped to and capture a complete picture of their lives.

An unexpectedly huge challenge, especially in Sapa, was having to deal with the sellers who constantly approached us. Ladies from ethnic minorities sometimes crowded around our group and followed us to sell their handcrafts. An old lady pitifully gestured to us that she couldn’t see and entreated us to buy her items. Young girls, barely grown, stumbled around with babies on their backs, pulling on our sleeves and thrusting handmade bracelets in our faces. Many of these sights and interactions tugged uncomfortably on my conscience, but I learnt to decline firmly and politely even though it proved difficult. Also, I sometimes felt unsure of whether to photograph certain scenes because I felt like such intrusiveness would somehow mar the genuineness of the interactions. However, our hosts and guides were very nice about it and remained receptive to the camera.

Being someone of a different nationality in Vietnam, I felt that my presence and identity constituted an opportunity for cultural exchange. During the Amazing Race, our group enthusiastically shared about each other’s cultures with our guide Ha from Hanoi Kids. I was so heartened by her genuine curiosity and interest in our Singaporean culture and dialects. We taught her some Hokkien greetings and how to order drinks in a coffee shop (kopi and teh) and she in turn taught us Vietnamese greetings and consequently bore the brunt of our bad pronunciation. What was unexpected was that everyone was so open to sharing about their lives; eager to impart snippets of their well-preserved, beautiful culture to us. Having been raised in a conservative culture, I am often tempted to censor my own questions and deem them inappropriate before I even voice them. However, I realised that if you just ask good-naturedly, you might be surprised at how much people are willing to share.

During the trip, I felt that my main identity was that of a Singaporean student, which enabled me to relate to the local university students we interacted with. But as our host shared about how most youths only attend primary and secondary school in Vietnam and spoke with great pride of her nephew in university, I realised that education is much more common and accessible in Singapore and perhaps that dilutes our sense of privilege. Being a Singaporean student in a different social and cultural setting led me to be more appreciative of the education we often take for granted; there are people who would be overjoyed and beyond proud to have a seat in the same lessons we may not think much of.

Honestly, the trip surpassed my expectations in so many ways. Speaking to the locals and learning about their lives really shaped my thoughts and widened my horizons- from the Sapa O’Chau guides who use their income to support the education of local children to the villager who studied in Singapore but still moved back to the Thai Hai village to protect its ethnic culture. The locals may not have much materially but their empathy and sense of community is tremendous, just like their desire to hold on to their roots and culture. To see them donning their traditional costumes every day and sustaining age-old traditions such as weaving; being so certain of their beliefs and proud of their unique ethnicity and identity, is truly inspiring. I have been conditioned to sometimes believe that there is only one track to a good life or success, but seeing them live to support such noble, unconventional, even seemingly inconceivable causes- as long as it makes them happy or gives them meaning- has given me a fresh perspective that there is no set formula to life.

On a whole, the trek and homestay experience impacted me most deeply. A constant dilemma between looking up and down, the trek was sandy and slippery but the view- endless stretches and undulating hills of curving rice terraces in a golden haze of sunlight- was simply awe-inspiring. Two little girls followed our group on the trek and expertly navigated the path in rubber slippers when we barely managed in covered shoes. But watching them set me reflecting about how different life could have been had I been born and raised in a different country, not too far from Singapore.

At our host May’s house, I was really heartened that her family did not just serve us but invited us into a part of their daily lives, even teaching us to make spring rolls which we ate together during dinner. It may seem unfathomable to constantly live with strangers in your home, but her family is just so proud and happy to share their way of life. Their unreserved candidness and warm hospitality made the homestay experience truly unforgettable and allowed me to deeply appreciate Sapa’s culture.

In many ways, the simplicity of life struck me poignantly. Girls chewing on sugarcane by the river, toddlers playing five stones with real stones, children learning to ride motorcycles in the school courtyard and fearlessly pouncing atop each other on the roof. Neighbours coming together to help a fellow villager build a house, lives centred around community, culture and contentment. Living with our hosts definitely made me wonder about leading a different, simpler, more carefree way of life- being awoken by roosters’ cries in an idyllic village rather than incessant phone alarms in a city. How difficult would it be to retreat into peaceful simplicity after a lifetime of accustomation to a busy, urban lifestyle?