Markets in northwestern Lao Cai Province give tourists a slice of life
27/11/07 (GMT+7)
Markets in northwestern Lao Cai Province Vietnam, it’s said that if you want to get a real feel – and taste – for a place, you should head to the market. That’s why I took the chance to explore some of the many collections of street stalls peppered about northwestern Lao Cai Province. With their medley of ethnic people and cultures, what goes on around these humble meeting places can really give visitors a real slice of local life.
My first stop was Muong Hum Market, which takes place every Sunday morning from 7am.
Three hours by bus (VND20,000) or a bit less by motorbike taxi (VND70,000) it’s easy to get to the village from Lao Cai Vietnam.
Unfortunately, once at the village there’s a bit of valley walking and rock clambering before you reach the market. But we never doubted we were on the right track as we passed people carrying giant bags of goods or baskets on their shoulders, all rushing to get to the stalls on time.
As the morning mist lifted, the market got busier and we could see groups of people everywhere. Thai ethnic girls in blue and pink skirts, gathered in one corner to buy silver jewellery, some Mong, wearing green and orange skirts were keen on hundreds kind of fruits. Next to them, bamboo shoots were presented on banana leaves and herbalists were enthusiastically advertising their wares.
But the most inviting thing of all was the aroma of local dishes at the market. Something for everyone; children’s mouth’s watered for sweet and greasy fried cakes, while men passionately enjoyed their drink with local specialities, such as fried horse meat with onion or pig intestine with mint.
Like other ethnic markets, Muong Hum is famous for thang co, a special hot pot made with buffalo offal and washed down with rice wine.
"Eating thang co with a big group of people is the best thing to do at the weekend," one local enthuses.
And as for pickpockets, people put their money up their sleeves, in big bags or even in large piles of dried beans so they don’t have to worry.
For local people, going to the market is a good chance to trade, but it’s also a social event, especially for hormonal adolescents.
But the market wasn’t just about the goods on display, as carefully preened local Dao girls stood out in their bold red headscarves and Ha Nhi girls in their black dresses, embroidered with beautiful green flowers. Not to be outdone, Mong girls wore diadems, which they’d dedicated plenty of time to making beforehand. And so, the girls and boys gathered together, playing traditional games to find their partners.
The social element of these public gatherings also a big part of my trip to Xi Ma Cai market, a stone’s throw from Lao Cai town.
As I and a flock of local ethnic kids set off along a series of paths to our shared destination, there was a blithe je ne sais quoi in the air, an energy that seemed to make everyone enjoy the perfunctory hike and even get decked out for it.
With their skirts covered in delicate embroidery, the Ha Nhi seem to have a soft spot for fusions of contrasting colours, like red and black; while the Mong opt for more of a rainbow-coloured and winding lines look. The Tay and Nung tots go for a more classic, uniform indigo ensemble.
As they neared the market, some girls would sneak off into a bush to change or to straighten up their dresses, often clutching small hand-held mirrors to keep guard against any peeping Toms.
The reason for all the fuss – the careful grooming to, ostensibly, just sell plums or grains – soon became apparent to me. My expedition colleagues were readying to do more than buy or sell produce. Here they could meet other people and catch up with friends, or find their life partners, as it were. Though, of course, what they brought to sell was also interesting.
I also saw an old Tay man dragging his dog along to the market to sell. Bringing a horse or buffalo would have been cakewalk by comparison, considering the dog seemed to fully understand his master’s intentions. It wasn’t going anywhere without a fight, or at least a bark.
Balancing bamboo baskets on their shoulders, women were carrying honey, herbs, tea, rice, pieces of pork and hens to the market. The girls brought along their best woven goods, like skirts, scarves, bed sheets, belts and fabric. On the path I bumped into a Mong girl about 20-years-old who was carrying her small child and a bunch of bamboo shoots. Imploring me to take the bundle off her hands, she insisted I indulge in the local past-time of eating the bamboo shoots with some of the renowned local wine – and then forget my way back home. I laughed. No stranger to a bit of quid pro quo, I told her I’d buy the bamboo if she would play the a traditional tune on a leaf. She immediately pointed to her younger sister, saying she was not in a position to play the tune since she was married. The leaf-blown melody, apparently, is a call to lovers.
When my friend then inquired about buying some honey, one young man wouldn’t nudge on the price: VND50,000 for a bottle (about 750ml) and VND40,000 for a piece of honeycomb.
As we closed in on the market, the crowds thickened. We asked two Mong boys who were playing with their khen (bamboo pan-pipe) if they were calling for their lovers. One said he was going to sell his since he’d recently got married. Seizing the chance, my friend asked to buy it, and they settled on a VND50,000 price tag. But there was to be nary a note piped until we reached the market! And for good reason: the market was a swarm of young couples eager to sell all their goods and hurry to the food stalls serving rice wine and bowls of thang co. Drunk off their rockers – as the woman I met before had warned me – by the end of the day the young husbands would stagger off to the side of the road and would either pass out or be strapped to the back of a horse heading home. The wife would never complain, as the more her husband went out boozing, the more friends and potentially beneficial social relations he acquired.
I guess that’s life in these mountain-hardened parts of Vietnam, where poverty constantly throws hurdles into people’s way, let loose in a colourful release of tension on market day.
(Source: Viet Nam News)
|
