I’d been having a miserable day.
Exploring around Sapa in northern Vietnam, I’d slept at a disappointing homestay, the solo travel lonelies were hitting hard, and after five hours on the Sin Ho motorbike loop, all I had were disappointing views and thoughts about turning around.
I thought I’d be in for an adventure. Instead I was tired, bored, and wondering what I was doing out there.
Being late afternoon, I made the call to drive another 20 minutes to a random guesthouse, resigned to go back to Sapa the next day.
Pulling into the small town of Mường So, I explored a fruit market and some side streets. Everyone seems surprised to see a foreigner, waving enthusiastically to the Canadian in a cowboy hat.
Eventually I’m stewarded by some locals to the village guesthouse. An ancient man with kind eyes greeted me and motioned for me to sit, placing on the table a cup of hot water alongside a bowl of suspiciously wet peanuts.
When in Rome.
He talks to me for a few minutes in a foreign language, unconcerned that I have no idea what he’s saying as I nod along.
Gently topping up my hot water, he then pulled out a meter-long tobacco pipe, taking a heroic-sized hit.
This is life in the village. This is what I travel for.
Everything is going to be okay.
The next 24 hours became one of my favourites in Vietnam.
Part 1: The Village
Exploring Mường So, I couldn’t go more than 20 steps without being stopped for a chat. Villagers wanted to practice English and take photos, giggling when I struck a pose.
I was eventually adopted by a roving gang of twelve-year-old girls. Armed with a translator app, we raced their bicycles against my running, laughing while onlookers smiled at the scene.
Their leader and I discussed me teaching English at their school the next day. While I don’t think either of us had any authority over the curriculum, enthusiasm was high on both sides.
Finally I made it back to my homestay for a beautiful family dinner and a goodnight wet peanut. I had a huge dorm all to myself.
I sleep with a big smile, grateful for the day.
Part 2: The Wedding(s)
I woke up early and jumped on my motorbike, heading back to Sapa via a different route. Driving through a valley of striking karst cliffs, I happily reflect on how a terrible day can rebound with a few smiles from the right people.
In the middle of rural nowhere, I come across a makeshift roadside parking lot, filled with motorbikes.
I drive past them, then slow down.
I think to myself, ‘why not?’.
I turn around.
Walking down a narrow path is a flurry of traditionally dressed villagers, military uniforms, and a confused white guy in a dirty Arc’teryx raincoat.
I take a pause, unsure if I’m intruding. Someone catches my eye and gestures to follow and keep walking.
I’m don’t know where I am, but I am welcome.
Ahead stood a massive tent with seating for what looked like 300 people. Greeting guests at the entrance is a young couple in striking red outfits.
Ah! I realize that this must be their wedding.
Not wanting to overstep any further, I try to hang back and people watch, but the couple notice me immediately and wave me inside. Unsure what I’ve gotten myself into, I thank them and sit down at the end of a long table, piled with mysterious dishes.
For the next three hours, I’m as deep in Vietnamese culture as I’ll ever be. Food is dropped into my bowl by many hands. My cup of rice wine/happy water is never empty. Half the wedding says hello, the other half gives me an understandably confused look.
The ceremony began off with a few sparklers and an MC rattling off words with auctioneer-level speed. The red clad bride and groom nervously hold hands.
No one paid much attention, and the happy water flowed freely.
I needed to drive home, which meant the capital crime of taking small sips while my tablemates did shots. They forgave me. Mostly.
After many laughs, and confusing conversations, it was time to say goodbye. Alarmed, a man grabs my shoulder and sits me back down.
Pumping his fists in the air, he grins.
“Bang-bang!”
Through gestures and pointing at my watch, I come to the understanding that ‘bang-bang’ will happen in 30 minutes. I obviously couldn’t leave.
Another hour went by. More happy water. More food. No ‘bang-bang’.
A mystery sadly unsolved.
Finally waving goodbye to the mass of guests and thanking the bride and groom for their hospitality, I hop back on my bike towards Sapa.
The sun is shining, the views are magnificent, and I can’t wipe the smile from my face. What a great day.
Thinking life couldn’t get any better, 20 minutes later, I see another lineup of motorbikes.
Unable to ignore a good story, I pull over again. Down the narrow path, I’m greeted by long tables, a huge tent, and another 300 villagers.
Food appears, happy water is poured.
At some point I get up to leave, and am explicitly told no.
Not until ‘bang-bang’.
Today was a good day.
