I’m trying to imagine how I would react if a mini-bus pulled into the mighty village of Thedford, and puked out a half-dozen sweaty tourists onto the sidewalk, all keen for a bit of authentic village life and a chance to spot locals in their natural habitat.
Quick, get your cameras ready, folks, local resident Heather Anderson is just exiting the grocery store. We’re quite lucky - based on the mud splatter pattern on her car it’s clear she’s from a more remote gravel road outside of town. And just as promised - she’s clad in traditional dress common to the area and it looks like she’s having a bad hair day. Yes, you’re right, it does seem she’s sporting pajama bottoms - traditional dress for the unemployed 30-something who’s moved back in with her parents. Now remember to be a responsible tourist and ask permission before you take her photo. Oh, it looks like she’s camera shy today, she’s sprinting back to her car. A back shot will just have to do. Come along everyone, if we hurry down to Caroline’s we can sample the local delicacy, date cookies, and see the village elders gathering over coffee.
Ok, so perhaps I’m exaggerating a bit. But spending 3 days in the northwest of Vietnam, in hill tribe country, has me reflecting on how invasive tourism can be, and the nature of the exchange between locals and tourists. The mountainous north of Vietnam is home to a variety of ethnic minority groups - some who have lived there for thousands of years, others emigrating in the last couple hundred years from China. Land ownership here in Vietnam seems to be a first come first served system, and as a result, many of the tribes eek out a very tough living on the sides of mountains, growing corn on patches of ground so steep that the average tourist would be unable to stand upright. The countryside is absolutely gorgeous, fantastic views. But what tourists really go north to experience is the colourful hill tribe people, the majority of whom wear traditional dress, whether they're ploughing a field of selling postcards.
The guidebooks don't lie. Over 3 days we visited four markets and as many villages and 90% of the women, just going about their business, did so in traditional dress. Each tribe can be identified by their clothing, as head gear, colour schemes and amount and style of ornamentation vary by tribe. We soon discovered which tribe were the most persistent business people, as we were constantly trailed by small ladies and girls, who were ready to sell us the bracelets off their wrists, which seemed very wrong. On one afternoon walking tour through villages that stretched across a valley floor, our group of six tourists was escorted for two and a half hours by 20 women from the Black Hmong tribe. I had a personal escort of 3 ladies and a baby (who was strapped to his mom's back) who stopped with me each time I paused for a photo, and were ready to assist me as I navigated slippery rocks while crossing streams. Their intentions were fairly obvious from the outset - we'll let you wander through our backyards and at the end of the afternoon you will buy some embroidered bags that you neither need nor want.
And here's the bit I find especially interesting - how tourists react to the clearly set out rules of engagement in hill tribe country. As far as I'm concerned, if I'm allowed to wander through small villages, invading their privacy, then sure, it's only fair that I spend a couple dollars on an embroidered whatever that will collect dust in my closet at home. (Well, if I had a home with a closet!) I won't be please if the ladies try to rip me off excessively, but by all means, let's negotiate. Other travellers I've met refused to purchase anything, with the argument that it just 'encourages the behaviour'. I personally think that view of things is a bit naive. The 'behaviour' of trying to support your family is completely legitimate. While it may be unfortunate, you can't expect tourism not to impact remote regions. If tourists can afford to fly halfway around the world to hike through the countryside of Vietnam, how can they balk at spending a couple dollars on hill-tribe souvenirs, when each dollar matters so much to people who have so little?
Ah, enough of my rant. My collection of photos of the ethnic minority people of northwest Vietnam is a series of backside views - partially because I'm not a National Geographic photographer, but primarily because the people there believe photos will capture their spirit. Beyond not wanting to inadvertently snatch someone's spirit, I also find taking close-ups of perfect strangers a complete invasion of their privacy. I mean, would I want my photo taken on the main street of Thedford? Decidedly not. At the end of 3 days I had acquired enough random embroidery that a trip to the post office was required. If the boat from Vietnam ever arrives some of you lucky people may be recipients of some perfectly stunning embroidered handbags. (Note, sarcasm has been engaged.) Please, no fighting, people. Tragically there's enough for all of you.
Quick, get your cameras ready, folks, local resident Heather Anderson is just exiting the grocery store. We’re quite lucky - based on the mud splatter pattern on her car it’s clear she’s from a more remote gravel road outside of town. And just as promised - she’s clad in traditional dress common to the area and it looks like she’s having a bad hair day. Yes, you’re right, it does seem she’s sporting pajama bottoms - traditional dress for the unemployed 30-something who’s moved back in with her parents. Now remember to be a responsible tourist and ask permission before you take her photo. Oh, it looks like she’s camera shy today, she’s sprinting back to her car. A back shot will just have to do. Come along everyone, if we hurry down to Caroline’s we can sample the local delicacy, date cookies, and see the village elders gathering over coffee.
Ok, so perhaps I’m exaggerating a bit. But spending 3 days in the northwest of Vietnam, in hill tribe country, has me reflecting on how invasive tourism can be, and the nature of the exchange between locals and tourists. The mountainous north of Vietnam is home to a variety of ethnic minority groups - some who have lived there for thousands of years, others emigrating in the last couple hundred years from China. Land ownership here in Vietnam seems to be a first come first served system, and as a result, many of the tribes eek out a very tough living on the sides of mountains, growing corn on patches of ground so steep that the average tourist would be unable to stand upright. The countryside is absolutely gorgeous, fantastic views. But what tourists really go north to experience is the colourful hill tribe people, the majority of whom wear traditional dress, whether they're ploughing a field of selling postcards.
The guidebooks don't lie. Over 3 days we visited four markets and as many villages and 90% of the women, just going about their business, did so in traditional dress. Each tribe can be identified by their clothing, as head gear, colour schemes and amount and style of ornamentation vary by tribe. We soon discovered which tribe were the most persistent business people, as we were constantly trailed by small ladies and girls, who were ready to sell us the bracelets off their wrists, which seemed very wrong. On one afternoon walking tour through villages that stretched across a valley floor, our group of six tourists was escorted for two and a half hours by 20 women from the Black Hmong tribe. I had a personal escort of 3 ladies and a baby (who was strapped to his mom's back) who stopped with me each time I paused for a photo, and were ready to assist me as I navigated slippery rocks while crossing streams. Their intentions were fairly obvious from the outset - we'll let you wander through our backyards and at the end of the afternoon you will buy some embroidered bags that you neither need nor want.
And here's the bit I find especially interesting - how tourists react to the clearly set out rules of engagement in hill tribe country. As far as I'm concerned, if I'm allowed to wander through small villages, invading their privacy, then sure, it's only fair that I spend a couple dollars on an embroidered whatever that will collect dust in my closet at home. (Well, if I had a home with a closet!) I won't be please if the ladies try to rip me off excessively, but by all means, let's negotiate. Other travellers I've met refused to purchase anything, with the argument that it just 'encourages the behaviour'. I personally think that view of things is a bit naive. The 'behaviour' of trying to support your family is completely legitimate. While it may be unfortunate, you can't expect tourism not to impact remote regions. If tourists can afford to fly halfway around the world to hike through the countryside of Vietnam, how can they balk at spending a couple dollars on hill-tribe souvenirs, when each dollar matters so much to people who have so little?
Ah, enough of my rant. My collection of photos of the ethnic minority people of northwest Vietnam is a series of backside views - partially because I'm not a National Geographic photographer, but primarily because the people there believe photos will capture their spirit. Beyond not wanting to inadvertently snatch someone's spirit, I also find taking close-ups of perfect strangers a complete invasion of their privacy. I mean, would I want my photo taken on the main street of Thedford? Decidedly not. At the end of 3 days I had acquired enough random embroidery that a trip to the post office was required. If the boat from Vietnam ever arrives some of you lucky people may be recipients of some perfectly stunning embroidered handbags. (Note, sarcasm has been engaged.) Please, no fighting, people. Tragically there's enough for all of you.
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