rained in

Taylor will or has already told you all about our wonderful H'mong friends that we made here in Sapa, so I'll focus on weather, geography, guitar playing, and drinking. The geography here is really stunning and spectacular. Sapa is an old French "Hill Station" (I'm not sure exactly what that means), and sits perched high up in the mountains of northern Vietnam. The drive up to the town was basically a cruise up switchback after switchback flanked on both sides by terraced rice paddies spilling down the severe slopes. The rice is at just about harvest time, so the yellow grains contrast nicely with the surrounding green jungle. Small streams and rivers cascade through and around the patchwork fields. The town of Sapa itself clings near the peak of a mountain, and thus everything in the town is built on a steep slope (information that will come back into play shortly). We are about 12 km from Fansipan, Vietnam's tallest peak (standing at 3000+ something meters). Looking out from the balcony of our hotel, we peer straight across the town's main street to see the towering peaks beyond. There are a large number of ethnic minority groups in this area, and hiking down to visit their villages or climbing Fansipan are the major recreations of the region.

Currently, our balcony offers views not of stunning mountains, but swollen, gray rain clouds. Hiking to villages or climbing mountains are not really possible, because of the torrential downpour that has only just now begun to let up. Apparently, a tropical storm crashed into the Southeast Asian Peninsula yesterday, dumping prodigious quantities of rain on us up here. From the moment I woke up yesterday to the time I went to bed, the sky was dumping water on everything around us. The geography of the town being sloped, of course that water was gushing, streaming, rolling and pushing down every surface in town. The main street had two streams on either side that spilled out to cover the entire street every time a lamppost impeded their path. Every stairway became a pummeling cascade and waterfall. To get to the restaurant where we had dinner, we had to tromp through a waterfall of what definitely smelled like sewage. I thought the whole spectacle was quite beautiful, though later in the day (after the lobby of our hotel was flooded) I began to seriously worry about our home for the night taking a quick slide to the bottom of the valley.

Without the hiking opportunities, there is not a lot to do in Sapa. The rain was so heavy that even cruising up and down the one street and checking out the market (where you can purchase day to day items like bamboo water pipes and butchered dog (paws included)) were not really options. Taylor and I wasted away the morning yesterday drinking coffee and enjoying several breakfasts and lunches. Come afternoon, I decided to buy a couple of beers and play a little guitar on the balcony. I soon had one visitor, a very nice fellow American who is teaching in Ho Chi Minh City, who brought a bottle of wine. Soon Taylor got up from her nap, and then a Japanese traveller from downstairs showed up a with a couple of beers and some bags of pig's ear and other food products from the market. We made an afternoon of it. Luckily, the store was only a few doors down the street, so we could make continuous beer runs without getting too wet, and our teacher friend knew plenty of songs on guitar. We drank, ate, and traded songs late into the evening.

Today was about the same, but the rain is beginning to let up. We have planned to go check out Lao Chai, the village of Taylor's H'mong friends, tomorrow. I hope the drizzle stays to a drizzle, or even lets up.