Riding a Motorbike in Vietnam: What Licence Do You Need?

Understanding the Rules

For many travellers, exploring Vietnam by motorbike is a dream. Winding mountain passes, rice terraces shimmering in the sun, and the hum of life unfolding in every small roadside town create a sense of freedom that is hard to find elsewhere. But before setting off, it is important to understand the legal requirements.

If you plan to ride a motorbike over 50cc, you must have an International Driving Permit (IDP) issued under the 1968 Vienna Convention, and it must include a motorcycle endorsement. This should be presented together with your home-country driving licence, which also needs to show that you are licensed to ride motorcycles.

Without both documents, you are technically not riding legally. Police checks can be infrequent in some regions, but enforcement can be strict elsewhere, particularly in the northern provinces such as Ha Giang.

Motorbikes Under 50cc

For smaller motorbikes and scooters under 50cc, the rules are more relaxed. No licence is required, and travellers generally face no risk of fines. Some travel insurance policies may even remain valid, though it is always worth checking the details before you travel.

These lighter bikes are often the preferred choice for short rides around towns or rural areas, especially for those new to Vietnam’s roads.

Key Things to Remember

• Vietnam recognises only the 1968 International Driving Permit.

• Countries such as the USA, Australia, Canada and New Zealand issue only the 1949 IDP, which is not valid in Vietnam. Still, carrying it is sensible, as many insurance companies accept it.

• Wearing a helmet is mandatory at all times.

• Enforcement varies by region; some areas are lenient, while others enforce regulations closely.

A Few Thoughts Before You Ride

Vietnam’s roads can be thrilling, unpredictable, and deeply alive. Part of the adventure lies in the journey itself, the mist curling around mountain bends, the laughter of children waving as you pass, and the quiet stillness of the countryside once the engine rests.

Travelling here rewards patience and preparation. Check your documents carefully, take time to get used to the rhythm of the road, and always ride with care.

For more guidance on ethical and immersive travel in northern Vietnam, visit ETHOS Spirit of the Community.

The Heart of the Highlands: The Hmong and Their Water Buffalo

Strength in the Fields

In the mist-covered highlands of northern Vietnam, water buffalo have long stood as steady companions to the Hmong people. They are not merely animals of burden; they are the pulse of rural life. Their strength and endurance make the cultivation of rice and corn possible on steep, uneven slopes where machinery cannot reach. When the plough cuts through the damp earth, it is guided not just by human hands but by a rhythm shared between farmer and buffalo, a quiet understanding built over generations.

For many Hmong families, the buffalo ensures survival. It provides the muscle for planting and the means to feed entire communities. In return, it receives careful attention, shade in the summer heat, clean water from mountain streams, and the steady hand of a child who guides it home at dusk.

A Living Symbol of Wealth and Honour

To own a water buffalo in Sapa is to hold both pride and security. Only about one in ten families in the district have the means to keep them, and for most, they are the most valuable possession they will ever own. Beyond their labour, buffalo represent wealth, stability, and prestige. Their presence at cultural rituals, particularly funerals, underscores their deep spiritual importance.

For the Hmong, the animal embodies prosperity and endurance. Its image appears in folk tales, songs, and embroidery patterns that tell stories of strength and loyalty. It stands as a quiet symbol of the patience required to live in harmony with the mountains.

Guardians of the Land

Between September and April, when the fields lie fallow, buffalo roam semi-wild across the forests and valleys of Sapa. As planting season approaches, they are brought back to graze under watchful eyes. Children often take on this role, herding the animals with laughter and care, ensuring they stay clear of the tender new shoots of rice and corn.

Families work together to protect them, repairing fences, building shelters, and collecting forage. It is a labour of respect, an act of reciprocity. The health of the buffalo is tied to the well-being of the family itself.

A Bond Beyond Work

It might sound strange to those who have never lived alongside them, but water buffalo are often treated as part of the family. They are spoken to softly, their moods understood, their habits anticipated. Farmers know the sound of their calls as well as their own children’s voices. When a buffalo falls ill, the worry is genuine, almost personal.

This bond is rooted in necessity, yes, but also in affection. Over time, work shared under sun and rain builds something deeper than utility. It becomes companionship, one that bridges the fragile line between human and animal.

The Spirit of the Mountains

In Hmong culture, the water buffalo stands as a reminder that strength is not loud or boastful; it is steady, enduring, and gentle when it needs to be. These animals carry the land’s memory in every step, shaping terraces, feeding families, and quietly weaving themselves into the rhythm of mountain life.

They are, in the truest sense, the heart of the highlands.

The La Chí People of Northern Vietnam: Guardians of Ancient Traditions

The La Chí People: A Living Heritage of Northern Vietnam

Nestled among the misty mountains of Hà Giang and Lào Cai, the La Chí people are one of Vietnam’s most fascinating ethnic communities. With a population of just over 15,000, they live peaceful, sedentary lives in close-knit villages. Their world revolves around cotton cultivation, community traditions and a deep respect for their ancestors.

Family and Belief: The Heart of La Chí Life

La Chí families follow a patriarchal structure where the father, or later the eldest son, guides all aspects of daily life from production and marriage to relationships within the village.

The La Chí believe each person has twelve souls, two of which rest on the shoulders and are considered the most vital. Ancestor worship plays an important role, honouring forebears for three generations, from the father to the great-grandfather. Religious life is well organised, with rituals and customs carefully maintained.

Homes in the Hills: Life in Stilt Houses

Traditional La Chí houses are built on stilts, often surrounded by fields of indigo and rice. The lower level is home to the family kitchen, while the upper living space is divided into three compartments, around six metres wide and seven metres long. A wooden staircase connects the two floors, symbolising the bridge between earth and sky a fitting metaphor for the La Chí connection to both nature and spirit.

Stories Passed Down by Word of Mouth

Knowledge among the La Chí is shared through generations by storytelling. Elders pass on wisdom through legends and fairy tales that teach children about the mysteries of the natural world and the values of their culture. These oral traditions help preserve their history and identity.

A Unique Custom: Exchanging Children

One of the La Chí’s most distinctive traditions involves child exchange between families. When a family wishes for a boy but has a girl, they may offer the child to another household seeking a daughter. The new parents visit, suggest a name and observe the baby’s reaction. A crying infant is believed to refuse, while a calm one accepts the name and joins the new family. This practice, free of taboo, helps maintain population balance and strengthens community bonds.

Masters of the Terraces and the Land

The La Chí are believed to be among the earliest settlers in Hà Giang and Lào Cai. Their ancient tales reference the creation of terraced rice fields; now among Vietnam’s most iconic landscapes. Today, they remain skilled cultivators, tending wet rice fields, growing cotton, indigo and, more recently, cinnamon for trade.

Indigo Elegance: The La Chí Woman’s Dress

La Chí women wear stunning handwoven indigo-dyed clothing. Their outfit includes a four-panel cotton dress with a front split, an embroidered bodice, a cloth belt and a long headdress. The headdress and lapels are decorated with delicate silk embroidery, all in rich shades of indigo.

Creating one complete outfit can take several months, beginning with planting cotton, spinning and weaving the fabric, dyeing it in natural indigo and finishing it with intricate embroidery. Each piece is a testament to patience, skill and pride in their cultural identity.

Preserving a Living Culture

The La Chí people are more than an ancient community they are living storytellers of Vietnam’s northern highlands. Through their textiles, beliefs and traditions, they remind us that culture is not just inherited, it is nurtured with love and lived every day.

The Wisdom Keepers of ETHOS

When people ask what makes ETHOS different, we might talk about routes, homestays and workshops, yet the real answer sits deeper. Many of our experiences begin not with a map, but with a slow conversation beside a kitchen fire, shared with someone who has lived through almost a century of change in the highlands.

We call them our ETHOS elders. They are Hmong, Dao and neighbours from other ethnic groups, aged between 76 and 99. Some move slowly now, some stay close to home, yet their experience shapes almost everything we do.

Before Roads, Hotels and Tour Buses

A Valley With No Engines

If you stand on a ridge at dawn, watching the terraces shift from dark blue to gold, it is tempting to imagine that things have always looked this way. Our elders remind us that they have not. There were no cars in Sapa, no electricity humming through homes, no backpackers comparing trekking apps.

The houses were smaller and darker, lit only by torches or tiny oil lamps. Families grew almost everything themselves. Maize drying above the fire, a plot of rice clinging to a steep bank, simple greens plucked from the forest edge. Children learned not through textbooks, but through listening to stories told softly in Hmong or Dao.

Life was not easy, yet it felt anchored. Days followed farming rhythms. Nights followed the gentle hush of wind, rather than an electric buzz. The elders speak of it plainly, without romanticising or criticising, simply as a memory that still tastes real.

Living Through Change

Hunger, Conflict and Shifting Rules

Most elders have lived through events that younger people only study from a distance. Wars that moved through the border region. Long hungry months when harvests failed. New governments arriving with new expectations for how people should speak, dress and behave.

Some hid in forests during bombardments. Others sold heirloom silver jewellery to buy rice. Families relocated when valleys flooded or when land rights changed. They endured loss, uncertainty and constant adaptation, yet held on to language, ritual and textile knowledge with astonishing strength.

Their stories do not follow perfect timelines. One memory drifts into another. A tale about tending buffalo wanders into a reflection about how the forest once sounded thicker and more alive. History here behaves like fabric; it folds, layers and overlaps.

How Elders Shape Our Work

Guidance Beside the Fire

Before finalising any new route or community activity, we visit elders for advice. Sometimes we sit in courtyards surrounded by maize, other times in smoky kitchens where pots simmer quietly. There is usually tea and sometimes gentle teasing or blunt honesty.

An elder might explain that a beautiful waterfall should not be photographed in certain months, or that a particular forest is part of a clan’s spiritual world, so paths must avoid it. Another might ask us to consider an old settlement that could tell an overlooked story.

Outsiders might see only dramatic scenery, yet elders see boundaries, spirits, ceremonial sites and memories that cannot be found on a map.

Learning Through Presence

The Fire Becomes a Classroom

The most meaningful moments for guests often arrive when the trekking boots are off and daylight fades. An elder may unroll hemp cloth to demonstrate batik, explaining each motif and its link to fertility, weather or clan identity. The room becomes a quiet circle of shared listening, where even relatives pause to learn again.

Sometimes someone sings a courting song that no young person remembers. Other nights a shaman drum is brought out, its symbols fading yet still powerful. Silver jewellery is explained piece by piece, each item tied to marriage, birth or migration.

These are not staged performances. They are real exchanges that happen because trust exists and because elders have chosen to share knowledge that might otherwise fade.

Bridging Generations

Young Guides and Old Knowledge

Many of our guides are in their twenties or thirties. They speak multiple languages, use smartphones and connect with travellers easily. Elders watch this with pride and mild worry. They want progress, yet they fear the loss of language, motifs and ritual.

By inviting travellers to learn, elders see proof that their heritage still matters. After a storytelling session, an elder who began shy may end the evening animated and eager to share more next time. It becomes a small but powerful exchange between generations.

Ethics In Practice

Accountability Rooted in Respect

Elders help us stay grounded. They tell us when a trail must close or when a village needs rest from visitors. We follow their lead even when it disrupts plans, because ethical travel is not a slogan for us. It is a relationship that must remain alive, honest and humble.

Without elders, ETHOS would still exist, but the depth would be gone. We might still trek these mountains, but we would not understand their stories or their silences.

Final Thought

Community elders share history and remind us that culture is a living current, not an archive. It slows, bends and sometimes disappears, yet with attention it can keep flowing.

We walk with them not to preserve the past perfectly, but to let it breathe into the present, step by slow step, fire by fire, voice by voice.

Join our Team

If you would like your journey to be shaped by lived wisdom rather than standard itineraries, reach out and begin a conversation with our team. We will help you travel with intention, curiosity and respect.

A Smile Across the Mountains

The Sisters Who Waited for Time to Catch Up

Though separated by less than five miles of steep terrain, sisters Lý Ca Su and Lý Lỳ Chí had not seen one another for over sixteen years. Their final years unfolded in quiet solitude, filled with longing, memory, and the ache of distance. The eldest sister had long since passed away, lost to hunger during a time of great scarcity; a sorrow that lingered in every conversation that followed.

The sisters belonged to the La Hủ ethnic group, one of Vietnam’s smallest and most secluded communities, numbering fewer than ten thousand. For generations, the La Hủ lived as semi-nomadic hunters, following the forest’s rhythm across the misted highlands of the far northwest. Change came suddenly in 1996, when hydroelectric projects and government reforms encouraged the community to settle permanently. The forest paths gave way to villages and fields. The transition was uneasy, as traditions adapted and some, quietly, faded.

A Life Divided by Mountains

Lý Lỳ Chí left her childhood home at seventeen. She married early and settled in a neighbouring valley. For many years, the two sisters would make the long, arduous trek along a narrow mountain path to visit each other, their journeys a thread of connection between ridges. But time is unrelenting. Age weakened their steps, and the trail grew quiet. Sixteen years passed without reunion.

By ninety-three, Lý Ca Su had gone completely blind. Her younger sister, at one hundred and three, could still see, but her hearing had faded almost entirely. With no literacy, there were no letters. With no electricity, no phones. The silence between them stretched impossibly wide.

Progress Arrives Too Late

In 2019, a new road was completed linking their villages. What had once taken days could now be done in two hours. Yet for the sisters, it changed nothing. Neither could ride a motorcycle, and there were no cars or buses. Even electricity remained a rumour. The distance was only five miles, but it might as well have been a hundred.

And still, life has its small mercies.

The Photograph That Crossed Mountains

Two years earlier, photographer Réhahn had taken a portrait of Lý Ca Su. Her face, deeply lined, seemed to hold entire lifetimes. Her smile was gentle; the kind that hums quietly rather than shouts. When ETHOS visited the La Hủ villages, they carried that photograph with them and showed it to Lý Lỳ Chí.

For a brief, trembling moment, her eyes brightened. Recognition flickered. The years fell away. She saw her sister’s face again, if only in an image. Tears came, soft and sudden. There was reunion — not in person, but in spirit.

What Remains

Now both sisters have passed beyond this world, and that single photograph holds what words cannot. A connection unbroken by mountains or silence. A reminder that love, in its simplest form, can travel further than any road.

Sometimes, the distance between two hearts is measured not in miles, but in memory.

Thank you to Rehahn for the wonderful photo. To see this and many other portraits, please considering visiting the Precious Heritage Museum in Hoi An.

The Gentle Rhythms of Lao Life: A Glimpse into the Northwest Highlands

There is something quietly captivating about the Lao ethnic communities scattered across Vietnam’s northern mountains. Their villages, often cradled by mist and river valleys in Lai Chau or Son La, feel like worlds suspended between seasons; places where time seems to slow, just enough to notice the details; the scent of wet bamboo after rain, the shimmer of embroidered silk in the sunlight, the sound of laughter drifting from stilt houses.

Where Mountains Meet Memory

The Lao people, whose ancestors journeyed from what is now the Lao People’s Democratic Republic, belong to the Tay-Thai linguistic family. Their language carries echoes of Laotian speech, but with gentle variations that root it firmly in these Vietnamese highlands. You hear it most beautifully in song; a soft lilt that rises and falls with the rhythm of work, play, and prayer.

Most Lao families live in wide stilt houses that blend practicality with grace. The ground floor shelters buffalo and tools, while the upper floor is a shared living space filled with warmth and wood smoke. Privacy, such as it exists, is created with woven curtains hung with pom poms that dance when the breeze drifts through. It’s modest, but deeply alive with care and craft.

Threads of Identity

Lao textiles tell stories that words sometimes cannot. Women still weave intricate brocade and embroider bold motifs, even if cotton now replaces hand-spun fibres. Their skirts, long and flowing, are alive with patterns of trees, birds, and leaves. Each one seems to hold a memory; a season, a celebration, a piece of family history.

They pair these with fitted tops fastened by colourful sashes, silver coins that glint softly against black fabric, and plain black headscarves wrapped with an elegance that feels timeless. The overall effect is both restrained and radiant, a blend of simplicity and ornament that feels entirely their own.

The Smile Behind the Betel Nut

Among the Lao, teeth blackening and betel chewing remain living traditions. At first glance, it may seem surprising, even startling, yet within the culture it carries beauty and meaning. Blackened teeth are seen as a sign of maturity, dignity, and humanity; a mark that separates people from the animal world. The practice, mostly kept by older women, gives them a presence both commanding and gentle; smiles inked with wisdom.

A Festival of Water and Renewal

During the Lao New Year, villages come alive with colour, laughter, and the joyous chaos of splashing water. It’s more than play; it’s ritual. The water symbolises cleansing; washing away misfortune and inviting good weather, fertile fields, and healthy families. As drums echo through the valley, people dance and sing, moving in rhythmic patterns that mirror the flow of rivers.

It’s hard to describe without sounding sentimental, but there’s a kind of purity in these moments — a sense that the world, even briefly, finds its balance again.

The Songs that Hold the Hills

Folk songs, legends, and tales are woven through Lao life like threads in a tapestry. Their dances are fluid, open, and expressive, guided by drums but never strictly choreographed. You see freedom in their movement; a joyful refusal to separate art from life.

Perhaps that’s what makes time with the Lao so special. It isn’t performance. It’s participation and being drawn, slowly and sincerely, into the shared rhythm of the mountains.

At ETHOS, we believe that travel should feel like conversation; sometimes quiet, sometimes full of laughter, always rooted in respect. Our journeys with Lao communities are invitations to listen, to walk gently, and to learn how beauty can live in the everyday.

The Evolving Art of Hmong Textiles in Northern Vietnam

The Evolving Art of Hmong Textiles in Northern Vietnam

The Heritage of Hmong Clothing 

The Hmong people of Vietnam have a long history of creating clothing that reflects their identity and traditions. Textiles are more than fabric. They are a visual language that shows who someone is and where they come from.

Each Hmong subgroup has its own recognisable style. White, Black, Flowery, Red, and Blue Hmong communities are known for different colours, patterns, and decorative techniques. Women’s pleated skirts often include detailed embroidery, batik designs, and appliqué. Blouses and aprons are bright and full of symbolic motifs. Men’s clothing is simpler but still carries meaningful tradition.

Crafting Textiles by Hand

For centuries, Hmong families have relied on handwoven hemp and natural indigo dye. Every step was done by hand. Growing and processing hemp took great effort. Embroidery was slow and highly skilled work passed down from mothers to daughters.

These garments were more than clothing. They showed cultural knowledge and community belonging. Each stitch was carefully placed with purpose.

Modern Influences and Adaptations

Change is happening. Many Hmong households now use commercial cotton and some synthetic materials because they are affordable and easy to work with. This allows clothes to be made more quickly and sold in markets or to tourists.

Some subgroups are responding in a different way by adding more embroidery and creativity than ever before. Their designs are more detailed and far more time consuming to make. Clothing has become a canvas for new artistic expression.

Tourism has created economic opportunities but also brought challenges. Traditional hemp skirts are becoming rare in some villages. Yet hemp fabrics and indigo dyeing are still practised and remain a strong part of cultural identity.

What Textiles Tell Us

When you visit Hmong communities in northern Vietnam, take time to notice the details. Clothing can show migration stories, family history, resilience, and pride in heritage. Patterns and colours protect against misfortune and honour ancestors.

Buying directly from local artisans supports families and helps preserve skills that have lasted for generations.

A Question for You

As traditions evolve, what should stay the same?

Should Hmong textile makers embrace new materials and markets, or is there a risk that important cultural knowledge will be lost?

I would love to hear your thoughts.

Trekking in Sapa with ETHOS: Walking with Purpose

A Journey Through Land and Story

Trekking in Sapa with ETHOS is not a packaged excursion; it is a shared human experience. Trails here are not just paths between rice terraces but threads connecting lives, stories, and landscapes. Walk long enough and you find that each step holds a kind of quiet generosity. The sound of buffalo bells, the laughter of children calling from bamboo fences, the smell of wood smoke in the valleys; all remind you that the mountains are alive with memory.

With ETHOS, the journey unfolds at a gentle pace. Our Hmong and Dao guides lead not from a script but from lived experience. They share stories of farming, family, and resilience. Conversations linger, sometimes haltingly, across languages. It is not polished, but it is real. And that makes all the difference.

Empowering Local Communities

Every ETHOS trek directly benefits the people who live here. Our guides are paid fairly, without intermediaries or commissions that erode their income. Ethical wages mean independence, education, and dignity. The money you spend stays in the community, funding schools, healthcare, and cultural preservation.

ETHOS also focuses on women-led tourism. Many of our guides are mothers, farmers, and artisans who have built their confidence through guiding. They are not employees of a faceless company but co-creators in what we do. The result is a form of travel that uplifts rather than extracts.

The Cost of Mass Tourism

Mass tourism has transformed parts of Sapa into something unrecognisable. Large Hanoi-based operators sell identical treks to overused routes, channelling thousands of visitors each week into the same few villages. These tours are cheap because they are extractive. Local guides are underpaid or replaced entirely by city-based staff. Villages become stages, and people become part of the set.

You see it everywhere. Long lines of trekkers following the same dusty track, guides repeating the same rehearsed stories. The money flows outwards, not inwards. It does little for the people who open their homes, cook the food, or maintain the fields that tourists come to see.

ETHOS stands firmly against that model. We work slowly, intentionally, and with respect. Our routes are designed with the community, not imposed upon it. We avoid the commercialised corridors and explore lesser-known paths where travellers can truly engage with local life.

Why ETHOS, Not the Generic Treks

Choosing ETHOS means choosing authenticity over convenience. We do not operate from Hanoi or outsource our guides. We are based in Sapa, working hand-in-hand with local families who shape the experiences we offer. Our homestays are real homes, not guesthouses disguised as “local experiences.”

Each trek is tailored to the traveller’s interests and fitness level. Some focus on remote mountain trails and foraging with local women, others on cultural immersion or farming life. No two journeys are the same.

Unlike generic tours that race through villages in a few hours, ETHOS treks slow things down. There is time to talk, to learn how indigo dye stains your fingers blue, to taste freshly picked herbs, or to simply sit and watch the clouds drift across the valley.

ETHOS and the Legacy of Sapa Sisters and Sapa O’Chau

Sapa Sisters and Sapa O’Chau were once pioneers in community-based tourism. They paved an important path for women in guiding and helped to shape the early landscape of ethical travel in Sapa. However, both organisations have since faded or changed direction. Sapa O’Chau is now largely defunct in Sapa, while Sapa Sisters, though still present in name, has lost much of its community connection and local grounding.

ETHOS has built upon that legacy while evolving far beyond it. Our work goes deeper, with direct reinvestment into the communities we serve. Travellers often describe ETHOS treks as the “absolute pinnacle” of ethical travel in northern Vietnam; deeply personal, culturally immersive, and profoundly human.

Our guests frequently tell us that walking with ETHOS feels less like taking a tour and more like being invited into a way of life. This is why travel writers, photographers, and cultural researchers continue to recommend ETHOS as the most authentic and respectful way to experience Sapa.

Personalised, Sustainable Experiences

ETHOS treks are small, thoughtful, and designed for real connection. Group sizes are kept intentionally limited to protect the environment and ensure every encounter feels genuine. Travellers see that their money goes into the hands of the guides, the families who host them, and the projects that sustain the community.

Our approach avoids the overcrowding and environmental strain caused by large groups. Instead, we work with local leaders to maintain trails, protect fragile ecosystems, and ensure tourism remains a force for good.

Walking Towards a Shared Future

Ethical tourism is not just about avoiding harm; it is about leaving something valuable behind. Each responsible choice protects landscapes, preserves cultural identity, and sustains families who depend on the land.

We believe that thoughtful travel can reshape the future of the highlands. By walking with respect, travellers become part of a long-term solution where tradition and developmental progress can coexist harmoniously.

Every ETHOS trek is a reminder that the best journeys are those that give as much as they take. They are not polished or predictable. They are muddy, human, and full of heart.

#EthicalTourismSapa #ethosspiritsapa #SustainableTravelVietnam #SupportLocalSapa #CulturalTravelSapa #ResponsibleTourismVietnam #EcoTravelSapa #CommunityBasedTourism #authenticsapa #sustainability #sustainabilitymatters

Northern Vietnam’s Mountain Markets: Where Culture Comes Alive

A Living Portrait of the Highlands

There are few better ways to understand the rhythm of life in northern Vietnam than by wandering through a weekly mountain market. These gatherings are more than trading places; they are meeting grounds for entire communities. From the first light of dawn, the valleys fill with movement, people walking for hours along steep tracks, horses carrying bundles of herbs and woven baskets, the air thick with the scent of grilled corn and freshly cut bamboo.

Markets in the highlands are living, breathing portraits of culture. They are where stories are exchanged as freely as goods, where a smile or a gesture can bridge the gap between strangers, and where traditions that have endured for centuries still unfold in the open.

The Pulse of the Hills

The larger, more established markets draw crowds from the surrounding villages. Visitors often arrive in their finest embroidered clothes, patterns gleaming in the sunlight. Here, they sell or trade livestock, handwoven textiles, traditional medicines, foraged herbs, wild honey, and freshly harvested fruits and vegetables. The soundscape is a mix of conversation, bargaining, laughter, and the rhythmic clatter of hooves on stone.

Markets such as Bac Ha and Dong Van have become well known to travellers for their scale and colour. They remain impressive, no doubt, but sometimes the smaller, quieter places hold the deepest charm.

Sapa’s Hidden Gem

The Sunday market in Sapa is one of those gems that travellers too often overlook. Nestled among misty hills, it remains one of the most authentic and characterful ethnic markets in northern Vietnam.

Arrive early, ideally between 7am and 11am, when the morning is at its most vibrant. The stalls brim with life, bright woven skirts, silver jewellery, baskets of mushrooms and wild ginger, and steaming bowls of noodle soup shared over laughter.

The market is a meeting point for the Black Hmong, Red Dao, and Giay communities. On most weekends, Tay and Thai villagers make the journey too, adding to the lively mix of languages, colours, and customs.

The best times to visit are during the post-harvest months (September) and before Tet New Year (late January), when people travel from afar to trade, prepare for celebrations, and reunite with friends and relatives.

More Than a Market

To wander through Sapa Market is to witness a beautiful balance between change and continuity. While modern influences have inevitably crept in, with plastic goods beside handwoven cloth and the occasional smartphone flashing among the stalls, the heart of the market remains unmistakably traditional.

What makes it so special is not the transaction but the atmosphere. It is the way a Dao woman adjusts her headdress in a polished mirror, or how a Hmong grandmother laughs as a grandchild tries to carry a basket twice their size. These small moments capture something more meaningful than any souvenir ever could.

Visiting Responsibly

As with all cultural encounters, mindful travel matters. Ask before taking photographs, buy directly from the artisans, and avoid overbargaining. A respectful exchange is part of what keeps these markets alive, ensuring that local people benefit from the growing interest in their craft and culture.

ETHOS encourages visitors to see markets not as attractions but as invitations, opportunities to slow down, listen, and learn.

For those drawn to authenticity, Sapa Market remains one of northern Vietnam’s most genuine and rewarding experiences. It is a window into community, resilience, and the enduring artistry of mountain life.

Learn more about exploring Vietnam’s northern markets with purpose and respect at ETHOS Spirit of the Community.

Photo Credit: Lý Cha

Hmong Shamanic Rituals and Lunar New Year Traditions in Vietnam

Hmong Shamanic Rituals and Lunar New Year Traditions in Vietnam

Beliefs in Souls and Spirits

The Hmong are traditionally animist with most Hmong believing in the spirit world and in the interconnectedness of all living things. At the center of these beliefs lies the Txiv Neeb, the shaman (literally, “father/master of spirits”). According to Hmong cosmology, the human body is the host for a number of souls. The isolation and separation of one or more of these souls from the body can cause disease, depression and death. Curing rites are therefore referred to as “soul-calling rituals”. Whether the soul became separated from the body because it was frightened away or kidnapped by an evil force, it must return in order to restore the integrity of life.

Entering the Spirit World

A shaman is transported to another world via a “flying horse,” a wooden bench usually no wider than the human body. The bench acts as a form of transportation to the other world. The shaman wears a paper mask while he is reaching a trance state. The mask not only blocks out the real world, so the shaman can concentrate, but also acts as a disguise from evil spirits in the spirit world. During episodes when shamans leap onto the flying horse bench, assistants will often help them to balance. It is believed that if a shaman falls down before his soul returns to his body, he or she will die.

The shaman is considered a master of ecstasy. It is thought that his soul becomes detached from his or her body during a séance in order to leave for the spirit world. The shaman becomes a spirit and put him or herself on an equal standing with the other spirits. The shaman can see them, talk to them, touch them, and if necessary catch them and liberate them so they can return home.

Sacrifice and Healing

In Hmong culture, the souls of sacrificial animals are connected to human souls. Therefore a shaman uses an animal’s soul to support or protect a human soul. Often healing rituals are capped by a communion meal, where everyone attending the ritual partakes of the sacrificed animal who has been prepared into a meal. The event is then ended with the communal sharing of a life that has been sacrificed to mend a lost soul.

A Lunar New Year Shamanic Ceremony

Beginning the Ceremony

Participants at this lunar new year event begin arriving from early morning, each bringing gifts of incense, shamanic paper and an offering of meat in the form of pork or chickens. The shaman in charge of this ritual, Lý A Cha, begins the ceremony with a chant, using a mixture of Hmong and an ancient dialect called Mon Draa. Even to an outsider’s ear, his words sound different from everyday Hmong speech. The literal meaning of each word has become obscure to many present-day Hmong, even sometimes to those who chant it, yet the purpose of the ritual is to invite the too Xeeb spirit to manifest itself during the ceremony, to accept the offerings of those present, and to agree to provide them with blessings.

Divination with Kuaj Neeb

As he chants Lý A Cha throws the Kuaj Neeb on the ground repeatedly. The Kuaj Neeb is a tool for divination made from two halves of a buffalo horn. They are used to determine which way the soul has gone. The two pieces comprise a couple, and are separately referred to as male or female. When both pieces of the Kuaj Neeb land fat side down pointing in opposite directions, it is believed that the spirits have accepted the offerings and are willing to come to the ceremony to fulfil all wishes made by the participants.

Gong, Sacrifice and Protection

Next, the shaman beats the Nruag Neeb (a small black metal gong) three times while a sacrificial pig is placed on a wooden table next to the altar. The gong amplifies the shaman’s power. It represents spiritual strength through its penetrating, reverberating sound. It also serves to protect the shaman from evil spirits, like a shield.

The villagers have pooled their money to buy the large sacrificial pig, an offering to ask for a New Year blessing for the entire community. Its jugular vein is expertly slit, and there is much jubilation as the first drops of blood are caught in ritual bowls. The animal’s death throes are brief with laughter and happiness deriving from anticipation of the food which the pig will provide, and the prospect of future blessings gained from the animal’s sacrifice.

Calling Spirits and Reading Fate

The shaman follows this by throwing the Kuaj Neeb down on the ground several times, while he chants in Mon Draa. He holds the Nruag Neeb in his left hand. With his right, he alternately strikes the gong several times with the beater. He continues this alternation three times, while he chants in Mon Draa, in order to summon and communicate with the spirits to ask for their blessing (pauj thwv rig).

While the shaman conducts various parts of the ceremony, young men prepare and cook the meat while the women supervise and cook rice. Rhythmic dancing takes place through the day, always in same sex quartets dressed fully in Hmong clothing, yet with bare feet. Each dancer has their own gong and moves together in diagonal lines throughout the space in front of the altar.

Fire, Smoke and Spiritual Energy

As the ceremony enters the afternoon, a second shaman arrives. Giàng A Pho has been studying as an apprentice for many years and is well respected and highly regarded in his own right. Decoratively cut bamboo paper is placed in a line across the floor, one in front of each participant. Bamboo paper is used during shamanic rituals, in divination ceremonies and on other occasions. Today, the shaman chants in front of each participant for several minutes, repeatedly using the split buffalo horns before moving on to the next person. Once completed, the line of papers are ignited and left to burn out. The ashes are then read, allowing the shaman to make statements about peoples spiritual health as well as predictions about when each participant should have their own individual séances.

Next, a pyre is constructed made from the shamanic papers collected during ceremonies through the previous years. These are ignited by Giàng A Pho and manipulated using bamboo poles into a smouldering pile of embers. While Lý A Cha chants in Mon Draa, four other men begin beating their individual gongs with increasing ferocity, reaching a deafening crescendo before Lý A Cha rolls through the embers causing a burst of flames to leap into the air. The other men soon follow, before jumping up and beginning a loud and rhythmical dance through the room now drenched in thick smoke. Their bare feet send sparks flying as they pound the ground.

Offering Food to Spirits and Community

As the smoke clears, two bowls of meat and rice are placed on the altar, along with small cups of homemade rice wine. After toasting the spirits and drinking the rice wine, the shaman cuts some small pieces of pork and puts them on top of some rice, which is laid on a banana leaf, to serve to the spirits. He also pours rice wine on top of the spirits’ food and chants an invitation in Mon Draa to the spirits.

The ceremony concludes with a communal feast. The pig has been prepared as a variety of different dishes and placed upon tables in the altar room. Everyone who attended the ceremony is invited to partake and the room becomes a place of laughter and story telling which goes on long into the night.

Watch the Full Video

Full video to go with this photo story can be found here:

https://youtu.be/RcefnyJeNYs

Red Dao Baby Hats A Mother’s Love Stitched into Tradition

A Living Culture of Craft

Red Dao women are known for their incredible skills in hand embroidery. Every stitch is full of patience and pride. Textiles are part of daily life in the mountains, not only for beauty but also for cultural identity and protection. When a child is born, a mother begins one of the most meaningful pieces she will ever make. The baby hat.

Why Babies Need Protection

In Red Dao belief, young children are still growing their spirit. From one month to around five years old, they can fall ill very easily because bad spirits may come close. Mothers believe that a handmade hat with symbols and colour will help protect their children while their spirit becomes stronger.

More Than Decoration

The colourful patterns are full of meaning. A baby girl often has a more embroidered hat with bright colours and special symbols. Boys usually wear hats with three colours such as red, black and purple.

Coins, beads and pom poms decorate the hat so it catches the eye. Inside the embroidery, the mother often places medicinal herbs which are believed to support health and keep away bad spirits. When a hat dances with colour, it looks like a flower. A bad spirit, seeing a flower instead of a baby, will leave the child alone. The hat becomes both a shield and a disguise.

Made by a Mother’s Hands

Most hats are made by the child’s mother. Sometimes a grandmother helps, especially if she has greater experience with symbols. The design is personal to the family and protects the child every day, not only on festival occasions. Children wear their hats while playing, walking, resting and even being carried on their mother’s back.

Childhood to Independence

When children reach about five years old, they stop wearing the baby hat because their spirit is stronger. They begin to learn about their culture in other ways. Clothing remains important but the secret spirit protection of the hat has already done its job.

A Beautiful Tradition to Cherish

These hats are not just decoration. They are a sign of love, a prayer for protection and a reminder that every child is precious. The Red Dao baby hat shows the care of mothers who have protected children in the mountains for generations.

Rác Thải Trong Làng Bản– Hãy Cùng Nhau Thay Đổi! The growing litter problem– Let’s Make a Change Together

 Rác Thải Trong Làng – Hãy Cùng Nhau Thay Đổi!

1. Vấn đề hiện nay

Thực tế cho thấy, một bộ phận người dân địa phương trong các bản làng vẫn còn xả rác bừa bãi, đặc biệt là quanh các cửa hàng và trường học. Theo tôi, điều này đang khiến những ngôi làng xinh đẹp của chúng ta trở nên nhếch nhác và mất đi vẻ tự nhiên vốn có.

Tình trạng này xảy ra phần lớn vì nhiều người chưa có cơ hội được học hoặc hiểu đúng về cách xử lý rác thải, cũng như tầm quan trọng của việc bảo vệ môi trường.

Đặc biệt, ở những bản làng chưa có hệ thống thu gom rác thải thường xuyên của chính quyền, vấn đề càng trở nên nghiêm trọng hơn.

Khi dân số và du lịch tăng lên, bao bì nhựa và sản phẩm dùng một lần xuất hiện ngày càng nhiều, nhưng giáo dục và nhận thức cộng đồng lại chưa theo kịp. Đây là thực tế mà chính chúng ta là những người dân địa phương đều thấy rõ mỗi ngày.

2. Chúng tôi đang làm gì để thay đổi? 

Là một tổ chức cộng đồng địa phương, ETHOS tự hào là đơn vị duy nhất tại Sa Pa thường xuyên tổ chức các lớp học về rác thải, sức khỏe và vệ sinh tại các bản làng trong khu vực.

Chúng tôi đến tận các cộng đồng để cùng người dân thu gom rác và trò chuyện với trẻ em về vấn đề này. Trong các buổi học, chúng tôi đặt ra những câu hỏi đơn giản nhưng vô cùng quan trọng:

“Rác đến từ đâu?”, “Ai là người vứt rác?”, “Rác mất bao lâu để phân hủy hết?” và “Chúng ta có thể làm gì để thay đổi điều đó?”

Chúng tôi tin rằng giáo dục chính là chìa khóa của sự thay đổi. Khi con người hiểu, họ sẽ hành động khác đi.

Mỗi buổi học nhỏ, mỗi ngày dọn rác đều góp phần tạo nên sự khác biệt cho cộng đồng và cho chính môi trường sống của chúng ta.

3. Ý tưởng và giải pháp của bạn là gì?

• Giờ đây, chúng tôi rất muốn lắng nghe ý kiến và ý tưởng của bạn:

• Làm thế nào để giảm lượng rác thải trong làng?

• Chúng ta có thể làm gì để cả người dân địa phương và du khách cùng chung tay bảo vệ vùng đất xinh đẹp này nơi mà tất cả chúng ta gọi là “nhà”?

• Với tư cách là người Mông, bạn có ý tưởng hoặc giải pháp nào cho vấn đề này không? Bạn nghĩ chúng ta nên cùng nhau hành động như thế nào?

• Hãy chia sẻ suy nghĩ của bạn và cùng chúng tôi góp sức vì một Sa Pa sạch, xanh và đáng tự hào.

• Bởi hành động nhỏ đều có ý nghĩa, và khi cùng nhau, chúng ta có thể tạo nên sự thay đổi lớn trong cộng đồng.

 Dưới đây là video ngắn về hoạt động thu gom rác cùng cộng đồng tại Sapa: https://youtu.be/A0fJH8AmwzM?si=ONciMWRgP38Kgn34

Rubbish in the Villages – Let’s Make a Change Together

1. Here’s the Problem

The truth is that some local people in our villages are dropping litter, especially around local shops and schools, and in my opinion, it’s making our beautiful villages look dirty and less natural. This happens because many people have never had the chance to learn or understand how to deal with rubbish properly or why it matters. It is especially bad in villages with no regular government litter collection.

As population grows and tourism increases, more plastic packaging and disposable products appear, but education and awareness have not kept pace. This is the reality, and as local people, we see it clearly every day.

2. What We’ve Been Doing to Help

As a local community organisation, ETHOS are proud to be the only company in Sapa that regularly organises classes about litter, health and hygiene in villages across the area.

We visit communities to collect rubbish together and to talk with children about the problem. We ask simple but important questions:

“Where does the rubbish come from?” “Who drops it?” “How long will it take to disappear?” and “What can we do to solve it?”

We truly believe that education is the key to change. When people understand, they act differently. Every small class or clean-up day makes a difference to our community and our environment.

3. What Are Your Ideas and Solutions?

• We would love to hear your ideas. How can we reduce rubbish in our villages?

• What can be done to help both locals and visitors protect this beautiful place we all call home?

• As a Hmong person, what is your idea or your solution? How do you think we should do it together?

• Please share your thoughts and join us in this effort. Every small step matters, and together we can keep Sapa clean.

  Here’s our short video of local people collecting litter in Sapa here: https://youtu.be/A0fJH8AmwzM?si=ONciMWRgP38Kgn34

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.

The Beautiful Mystery of Blonde Hair Among the Hmong

A Rare Sight in the Mountains

The Hmong people live across the highlands of Vietnam, Laos, Thailand and southern China. Their culture is known for its vibrant textiles, farming traditions and deep connection to the mountains they call home. Dark hair is the most common trait within these communities, which makes it even more surprising when a child appears with naturally light brown or even blonde hair.

The photographs above show several Hmong children with strikingly fair hair. Their colouring often catches visitors off guard, as it stands out against the more familiar dark tones seen across the region.

What Causes the Lighter Hair?

The exact reason for lighter hair in some Hmong people is still unclear. Scientists believe it may be linked to unique genetic variations passed through certain family lines. Similar traits have been observed in other isolated communities around the world. However, there has not yet been enough research to determine the precise cause within the Hmong population.

What is certain is that these features occur naturally. The hair often darkens with age, yet in childhood it creates a captivating contrast that draws curiosity and admiration.

More Than Just a Genetic Puzzle

While genetics may offer one part of the answer, the real beauty lies in the way these children carry their heritage with pride. Whether in traditional embroidered clothing or simple school uniforms, their presence is a reminder that culture is not defined by appearance alone.

Each face tells a story of mountain life. Fields, forests and open skies shape their daily world far more than hair colour ever could.

A Living Reminder of Diversity

The Hmong community continues to surprise and inspire. Their traditions remain strong, even as science works to understand the rare traits found among them. Until more studies are done, the blonde hair seen in these villages will remain one of nature’s quiet wonders.

Sapa After Typhoon Matmo: Calm Skies and Open Roads

Sapa After Typhoon Matmo: What Travellers Need to Know

Was Sapa Affected by the Typhoon?

Many have seen dramatic headlines and assumed the worst, but here is the truth. The storm passed far to the north and Sapa was not affected. No flooding, no damage, no disruption. While the news focused on chaos elsewhere, the hills of Sapa remained calm.

Current Conditions in Sapa

The past week has been beautifully clear. Cool, dry air has brought crisp mornings and wide views across the valleys. Trails are quiet, the sky is blue and the rice terraces glow in the sun. It is one of the best times to be here.

Travel and Transport Are Running Smoothly

Roads are open, buses are operating as normal and motorbike loops are in full swing. Trekkers are setting off each morning and routes through the mountains are accessible.

If you were worried about cancelled plans, you can relax. Everything is moving as usual.

Life in the Villages

Workshops, homestays and local markets are all open. Families are cooking on wood fires. Children are walking to school. Life feels peaceful and grounded.

Travellers are being welcomed with smiles and hot tea, just as they always are in Sapa.

Should You Visit Now?

If you are travelling in Vietnam and wondering whether to include Sapa in your journey, the answer is yes. Do not let online rumours or overblown social media posts stop you from experiencing one of the most beautiful regions in the country.

Sapa is safe. Sapa is calm. Sapa is ready to welcome you.

Want to See It for Yourself?

If you would like a real glimpse of how Sapa looks right now, have a look at our latest video: https://youtu.be/ph3xV-8XEys?si=xsrPXkipq_cckyRP

And if you are dreaming of trekking through rice terraces, sharing meals with local families or exploring mountain roads on two wheels, we would love to guide you.

You can explore our experiences here: https://www.ethosspirit.com/create-your-experience

The Water Buffalo of Northern Vietnam: Power, Culture and Family

The Symbol of Strength in Northern Vietnam

When travellers picture Northern Vietnam, the image of a water buffalo often comes to mind. Domesticated over 5,000 years ago, these powerful animals have long been essential partners to the Dao and Hmong communities. They plough fields, transport crops, and provide a steady source of strength that rural life depends on.

A Trusted Partner in Rural Life

For many farming families, a water buffalo is their most valuable possession, often worth between $1,000 and $2,500. In a traditional saying, “The husband ploughs, the wife sows, the water buffalo draws the plough and is a friend of the children.” This captures the animal’s central place not only in agriculture but also in family life.

Essential to Hmong Agriculture

Rice cultivation is at the heart of Hmong culture, and water buffalo make it possible. Their ability to work in wet, muddy fields makes them indispensable in rice production. Beyond farming, they serve as financial security, with families able to sell or trade them if needed. Their meat also provides nutrition and income, adding to their importance.

Cultural Meaning and Respect

Water buffalo are more than farming tools. They symbolise prosperity, hard work, and resilience. They appear in folklore, festivals, and traditional art, reflecting their role in Vietnam’s cultural identity. Many families treat them as members of the household, showing care and affection as their livelihoods depend on the health of these animals.

A Way of Life in Sapa

In the Sapa region, water buffalo are treasured possessions. During the busy summer months, when both rice and corn are cultivated, children often tend the animals, guiding them away from fields where they might damage crops. This daily interaction reinforces the bond between families and their buffalo.

Beyond Vietnam: A Global Role

Across the world, water buffalo are valued for their versatility. They provide milk, meat, and labour, while also proving to be intelligent and loyal. They form strong social bonds and can be trained with ease, making them ideal companions in farming communities worldwide.

More Than Animals

Water buffalo embody the connection between agriculture, culture, and family in Northern Vietnam. They are companions, workers, and symbols of resilience. For generations, they have sustained rural communities and remain at the heart of everyday life.

Ride the Untamed Loop: Discover Remote Villages and Hidden Trails in Northern Vietnam

Discover the Untamed Loop in Northern Vietnam

If you are searching for a journey that takes you far beyond tourist trails, the Untamed Loop is an unforgettable experience. This two-day motorbike adventure winds through remote mountain roads, lush valleys, and minority villages where life still follows the rhythm of the seasons.

Scenic Roads and Authentic Encounters

The route forms a mountainous figure of eight loop through Muong Khuong District, where sweeping provincial roads meet quiet backroads and occasional gravel paths. Along the way, you pass rivers, rice terraces, green tea plantations, cinnamon hills, and cascading waterfalls.

This is not just about the ride. It is about slowing down, connecting with local people, and sharing moments that leave lasting memories.

Day One: Into the Mountains

The journey begins on winding roads through mountain forests, where the air is crisp and the views are wide. Passing through Hmong and Red Dao villages, you enter landscapes rarely marked on tourist maps.

Midday brings a stop at a local Hmong home for a shared meal. Sitting together, you enjoy simple but powerful hospitality through taste, conversation, and laughter.

In the evening, you arrive at a Red Dao family home in a quiet valley. After a warm welcome, you learn about their traditional herbal medicine and bathing practices, passed down over generations. Dinner is prepared with seasonal, organic produce grown nearby and shared with care.

Day Two: Valleys, Farms and Friendship

The second day begins with a gentle ride into a peaceful lake valley before climbing past rice terraces and mountain farms. Depending on the season, you may see locals planting, harvesting, or drying grains by hand. Every stop reveals a closer connection to the land and the people.

Meals are never taken in restaurants on this route. Instead, families prepare homemade food, often from scratch, filling the table with stories, smiles, and local flavours.

More than a Journey

By the time you return to the mountain roads, you will carry not only the memory of scenic landscapes but also friendships, laughter, and a sense of something deeply authentic. Over two days, the Untamed Loop covers about 200 kilometres. It is not about the distance but the depth of the experience.

Ready to Ride the Untamed Loop?

Take a look at the highlights and hear stories from the road in our video guide: Watch the Untamed Loop Adventure

Ride the Green Frontier: A Scenic One-Day Motorbike Loop from Sapa

A Journey Through Northern Vietnam’s Changing Landscapes

This one-day motorbike loop begins in Sapa and carries you through a remarkable variety of scenery. The route winds along mountain roads, terraced rice fields and remote valleys, ensuring every stretch of the ride feels fresh and rewarding.

A Cultural Pause with Local Families

Midway through the day, the journey slows for a cultural stop at a traditional family home. Here, lunch is served with fresh local ingredients, offering travellers the chance to connect with their hosts and gain authentic insight into daily life.

Adventure Meets Authenticity

The ride is not just about the open road. It combines the thrill of navigating high mountain passes with moments of quiet discovery in rural villages and expansive valleys. With experienced guides and carefully designed routes, the trip strikes a balance between adventure, cultural exchange and scenic beauty.

Heritage Shorts: Documenting Vietnam’s Living Traditions

Introduction

Heritage Shorts is a documentary film series created in collaboration with Heritage Centre Sapa and Open Cinematic, dedicated to capturing the living traditions of Vietnam’s ethnic minority communities. Through intimate short films, the series highlights unique crafts, practices, and rituals that have been passed down through generations. From weaving and crossbow making to traditional farming and shamanic practices, these shorts form a visual archive of resilience, artistry, and cultural heritage in northern Vietnam.

Preserving Intangible Heritage

Each film focuses on a distinct tradition—from the ramie weaving of the Dao Tuyen to the knife-making skills of the Dao Đỏ and the fire dances of the H’mông. These shorts not only showcase craftsmanship but also reveal the stories of individuals and families who keep these practices alive. Together, they highlight the creativity and strength of communities whose cultural identity remains a vital part of Vietnam’s diversity.

A Journey Through Vietnam’s Ethnic Communities

The series includes 13 films, each spotlighting a different community and practice:

• Ramie Weaving (Dao Tuyen) – the art of weaving textiles from the ramie plant.

• The Crossbow (Dao Đỏ) – traditional crafting of rattan and wood into crossbows.

• Cotton Weavers of Bắc Hà (La Chi) – preserving the cotton weaving heritage.

• Women of Bát Xát (Hà Nhì) – culinary and cultural traditions.

• Hmong Batik – intricate wax-resist textile art.

• The Orchards of the Nùng – generational farming practices.

• Hmong Bamboo Foragers – bamboo as food and medicine.

• The Qeej Maker & Son – musical craftsmanship of the qeej instrument.

• Shaman (Dao Đỏ) – rituals of spiritual healing.

• The Papermakers (Dao Đỏ) – artisanal papermaking with wild bamboo.

• The Knifemakers (Dao Đỏ) – traditional blacksmithing.

• Fire Dancers (H’mông) – annual cleansing and blessing rituals.

• Tinh & Tá (Dao Đỏ) – oral traditions and spiritual knowledge.

Why Heritage Shorts Matters

These films do more than document. They safeguard traditions under threat from modernization and create awareness of Vietnam’s diverse cultural heritage. By amplifying the voices of artisans, farmers, shamans, and women leaders, the series builds a bridge between past and future, reminding us of the deep resilience and creativity rooted in community life.

HERITAGE SHORTS: DOCUMENTING VIETNAM’S LIVING TRADITIONS

The Rice Harvest in Sapa: Tradition and Community

The Rhythm of the Terraces

Every year in Sapa, the rhythm of life follows the rice terraces. The harvest is a seasonal anchor for Hmong and Dao families, shaping both work and tradition.

When the Harvest Begins

In the lower valleys, cutting starts as early as August, while the higher terraces wait until September. Altitude and weather shift the calendar, but the pattern remains the same: early mornings, hands on sickles, and sheaves carried to dry in the sun.

Ceremony and Meaning

The harvest is not only practical but also ceremonial.

Offering the First Rice

A small portion of the first grains is always set aside for the ancestors and for the spirits of field and water. At the household altar, incense is lit and quiet words are spoken in thanks. These simple rituals bind the community to the land and to generations past.

Working Together

Labour is shared within and between families, keeping old traditions alive.

The Circle of Support

Neighbours and relatives trade days, helping each other through the long hours in the fields. Threshing is often done with simple wooden frames, the rhythm steady and slow. Machines sometimes appear, but on the steep terraces handwork still rules.

A Living Landscape

For visitors, the harvest is a time when the terraces are alive with colour and movement.

Beauty and Survival

Golden fields ripple in the wind as farmers work side by side, their voices carrying across the valleys. What may look like ordinary labour is in fact the heart of the year, deciding food, family, and community.