At the end of a month of traveling from South to North Vietnam, I arrive at my final stop: Sa Pa, the highest mountain town in the country. The goal? To visit the famous mountain rice terraces in the Muong Hoa valley and learn more about the cultivation of terraced rice.
On a warm and humid morning in April, I meet my guide Thi Tung, who belongs to the “Black Hmong” group, one of the 52 ethnic minorities in the country. It is said that this nomadic tribe arrived in Vietnam from the mountainous regions of China about 300 years ago. Also known as “the mountain people”, the Black Hmong proudly preserve traditions related to their culture: from speaking exclusively their dialect, to cultivating indigo plants for dyeing their extraordinary clothing, to crafting their characteristic jewelry, they are the artisans of the terraced rice fields that have created one of the most fascinating landscapes in the world.
"After a short visit to the Sunday market of Sa Pa"
Let’s start our mountain excursion that will last 3 days. Thi Tung is a young woman of short stature, with brown skin due to constant exposure to the mountain sun, and one of the brightest smiles I have ever encountered. At the age of 18, she decided to learn English in order to become one of the local guides known as “Mamas.” During our climb under the scorching midday sun, I learn with astonishment that in this region, it is the women known as Mamas who financially support the family by taking visitors on mountain excursions, while the husbands take care of household chores such as farming, looking after the children, and cooking.
In the late afternoon, I breathe a sigh of relief when we arrive in Hầu Thào; it is in this village inhabited exclusively by 600 Hmong families that Thi Tung was born, and it is here that she began building her house about 7 years ago. Welcoming me into the traditional wooden home are her husband, their three children, and a spectacular view of the sunset over the Muong Hoa valley - I can say that the long hours of trekking were worth it!
Around the table set with the family, I can learn more about the main food of the local cuisine: rice. Steamed, it is eaten for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, served in small bowls with wooden chopsticks and accompanied by various seasonal vegetable dishes, while meat or freshwater fish is a luxury that poor farming families can afford only once or twice a week.
Like most families in the village, Thi Tung's family also owns a modest plot of terraced rice fields; I am surprised to hear that
"Their annual consumption of rice is approximately 700 kg."
As I try to navigate the art of eating with chopsticks, Thi Tung explains to me that due to the harsh conditions related to the climate and mountainous terrain, rice harvesting here happens only once a year. Families that can afford buffaloes or a machine for plowing the rice fields start preparing the land once winter is over. In the absence of an irrigation system, which is also too costly, they wait for the rains to flood the fields, allowing for the planting of rice seedlings between May and July, while the harvest takes place between September and November. Rice is still cultivated traditionally, without the addition of fertilizers or pesticides, except for the manure of the buffaloes that peacefully graze around the rice paddies; harvesting is still done by hand, and several families use an ancient stone machine to separate the grains from the ears.
In the past, only a single variety of local rice called "Lo Puop" was planted.
Characterized by small white grains and a strong aromaticity. From this variety, the “ruou can” is also produced, a local rice wine that I am fortunate to taste at the end of the meal. It is a medium-alcohol digestive, fresh and sweet on the palate, with a pronounced hint of fermented rice at the finish.
Nowadays, however, due to the lower yield of these plants, local families buy varieties of rice from China, whose product is of inferior quality and also more susceptible to pests and diseases. Thi Tung adds with a smile that his family is one of the few that cultivates the Lo Puop rice plants, thus protecting this precious indigenous variety that is at risk of becoming extinct.
I learn with amazement that rice here is not only the protagonist of the local cuisine but also an example of how knowledge can be transmitted through a food, preserving cultural identities tied to the territory and creating self-sufficient communities.
"Only the Hmong preserve and can pass down this ancient seed"
Furthermore, Hmong families that do not own rice paddies buy or barter rice grown by neighboring families with other products, contributing to the support of the local economy.
A food that for us Italians might seem almost trivial here turns out to be the soul of the territory and of ancient communities whose rhythms of life are still marked by those of nature.
I leave the Muong Hoa valley profoundly enriched by the smiles of the people, by the beauty of nature, by a cuisine with authentic flavors; perhaps only an ingredient that appears simple like grains of rice could remind me how important it is to appreciate the simple things in life.