CHILLing in Sapa

After a 9 hour, sweaty, cramped train ride, the double chillness of Sapa is very refreshing. After returning to Hanoi from HaLong Bay, we decided to take an overnight train ride to Sapa, a small hill station in Northwest Vietnam, near the Chinese-Vietnam border. Even though the air conditioning was broken and I was sleeping on a small bed designed for a 5 foot Vietnamese man, I managed to sleep the night and felt refreshed when we arrived this morning at 5:30 AM. It is considerably cooler in Sapa, then in Hanoi, it is at a much higher altitude and also rains a lot. We took an hour bus ride to Sapa, and we were here. As we drove through the streets of Sapa, I thought about how nice it would be to finally be hassle free- no tuk tuk drivers, no "book" sellers, no boom-boom sellers. However, we got of the bus and saw we were wrong. Within 3 seconds of putting my backpack on, I had a pack of 12 Vietnamese surrounding me throwing business cards in my face and yelling at me to come to their hotel, pointing in every direction. It was so cool! The salesmen were aggressive yet not violently insistent, and it was comical that every salesman actually believed that we would come to their hostel over the 11 other ones. So we decided to make a little mockery of them. We all split up and started walking in circles in different directions. The Vietnamese and no clue what was going on- they didn't know who to follow, they started running from person to person, it was madness. So after a good laugh by both parties, we decided to hold an auction and find the lowest bidder. I love a buyer's market. My Israeli friend Oren climbed some steps, and held is hand high in the air and announced the commencement of the auction. Unfortunately, the Vietnamese had no clue what was going on, so we ended up touring each hostel and settled on a very pleasant one for 2 dollars a night. We spent the morning catching up on sleep and washing clothes, and got up for lunch around 12:30. After a delicious lunch, we wandered over to a pool bar and played a couple hours of pool and cards. I learned a new game called Go, which is the Chinese version of Connect 4. It is played on the horizontal plane, and it is Connect 5. We chilled all afternoon at the hall, listening to Bob Dylan and the Beatles, drinking tea, coffee, and beer. That was a lot of fun.
On our drive into the city, I spotted a large square next to a church where some food stands were set up. I decided to test the theory that I had heard on Cat Ba island, that Vietnamese people play soccer every day at 5pm. So around quarter to 5, we headed over to the church to find a game, and sure enough, it was there. There were 4 Vietnamese in a juggling circle, and when I spotted the ball I made a bee line for their corner of the courtyard. I think they saw the excitement on my face and in my sprint, and they all laughed when I joined the circle. I introduced myself, and the one called Casanova was able to speak English. He was by far the most skilled of the bunch, and had on a pair of fadidas indoor shoes and some AC Milan gear that actually made him look like a real soccer player. We soon split up into teams, me, the New Yorker, the math PHD Israeli, and a Vietnamese man called Bien. We played on a long, narrow strip of stone on one edge of the courtyard. Backpackers and Vietnamese alike gathered above the courtyard, and before long we had a small crowd of spectators, even two photographers. Casanova's team was not as skilled individually as the players from Cat Ba island, however, they moved the ball around nicely and were always in the right position on the court. Like the players on Cat Ba, they were very cautious about every tackle, and with all the fog and mist in Sapa, very careful not to fall. The light mist picked up to a gentle drizzle, and the game began to get more sloppy. We took an early lead after I used my indoor soccer experience and played a wall pass around the defender and scored. Soon after, the drizzle picked up to a rain, the tone of the game became more loose and everyone was slip sliding and laughing. The rain then turned into a torrential downpour, and the Vietnames all ran off laughing without any regard that they had just played a soccer game. Casanova came over to me, and as we shook hands under the pouring rain, both shared a gratitude to what we had just done. He told me to come back tomorrow, same time, same place, just like they do every day in Sapa.
We ran off to the closest shelter which happened to be a near by market. The market was sparsely covered by loose tarps. Stand owners were beginning to gather their items together to head home for dinner. We descended down the stairs with stands on both sides, looking in curiousity to the items for sale: eels, half sliced pigs, duck heads, deer hooves, and a bunch of other weird and indiscernible things. The rainfall mixed with the various ingredients on the ground, and created a river of blood and guck. For once, I was glad I wasn't wearing crocs.
We got back to the hostel, dried off, played some more cards and went out for dinner. After a dinner of venison and grilled duck (a total of $5!) we headed to a different pool bar and had a couple brewskis.
Overall, I had an incredible day. However, sometimes when you're traveling, you see stuff that just isn't right. So far, I've been able to deal with the begging, the scams, I even saw a mutilated corpse from a motorcycle accident on the way to HaLong Bay. But yesterday I saw something that made me pretty upset. While I have no proof it was what I think it was, seeing a small tribal girl from a neighboring village, whose job it is to come to Sapa and sell bracelets, opium, or whatever to tourists all day, going upstairs with an older man, I thought that something just wasn't right.