Across the River: A Border Story from Northern Vietnam

A Chance Meeting on the Road

While riding in the hills of northern Vietnam, I met a lovely lady named Ma Thị Dủa. She is 68 years old, full of warmth and quick to smile. I always enjoy stopping to talk with local people, so I asked her about her life and what she used to do.

Her story stayed with me.

A Village Divided by a River

She told me that her village sits right beside the Chinese border. The only thing separating the two lands is a small river. In the past, people would cross it freely. Villagers from both sides, including different ethnic groups, would walk across to visit markets in China and vice versa. Villagers would frequently cross both ways.

She described it with shining eyes. The market was always lively and full of colour. Fabrics hung in long bright rows. Spices and fresh food filled the air with their scent. People spoke different languages yet somehow understood one another. It was not just a place to buy and sell. It was where people met friends, shared news and reconnected with relatives.

A Walk Across the Border

She herself used to walk around 4km to reach her nearest market. Her daughter had married a Hmong man in China, so the market trips were not only for shopping. They were a chance to see family, hold her grandchildren and laugh over tea.

Those journeys were part of her life for many years.

Then the Border Closed

After Covid, everything changed. The Chinese side built a fence along the river. The crossing that was once open became blocked by metal.

Now, if she wants to go to a market on her side, she must walk 9km each way. What used to be a simple stroll has become an 18km round trip, and worse than that, she can no longer visit her daughter or her family across the border.

The river is still there, quiet and unchanged. Yet now it divides rather than connects.

A Quiet Reminder of How Borders Shape Lives

Meeting her was a powerful reminder that borders are not just lines on a map. They are real for the people who live beside them. They can carry joy, connection and freedom. They can also bring distance, silence and longing.

All of this came from one gentle conversation on a mountain road. Stories like hers deserve to be heard.