The main reason tourists go to Sapa is to trek into the hills and visit the local villages of the ethnic minorities. The area around Sapa is populated mostly by Black Hmong and Red Dzao.
Homestays are a popular excursion. In theory this involves hiking to a village, staying with a local family and seeing their traditional way of life. In actuality it's usually a staged event, almost like a museum exhibit.
One couple I met was aghast to spend a night at a "traditional" homestay not with the family, but in a separate building nicer than their hotel back in town, complete with satellite TV and a refrigerator full of beer. They were led to believe they'd be roughing it, not basking in luxury.
It's possible to arrange the real thing. There are so many women wandering the streets of Sapa selling souvenirs that all you have to do is find one willing to work as a guide. It's not hard to find someone willing to guide you for around $10 per day. It beats carrying around a basket of pillowcases and shoulder bags and getting rejected by tourists all day.
I ended up not doing a trek to the hills because it rained every day I was there. But I did do one short hike to a village called Cat Cat, just outside Sapa. I did it on the one sunny day I had. The scenery was beautiful, but the village itself had the feel of a theme park attraction. Hiking the main path was as "authentic" as an exhibit at Epcot.
The first sign of trouble was the ticket booth. It didn't get me anything except the privilege of walking through the village. It was less than a dollar to get in, which would have been OK had I thought that the money went to the village. The ticket says Lao Cai Tourism Company so I would guess that somewhere in the neighborhood of zero-point-zero percent of the proceeds goes to the village.
A wide, evenly-paved path wound down the hill from the ticket booth, a path built solely for tourists. Because the valley is so steep I could clearly see dirt tracks going up and down the hills, but aside from the one I was on I couldn't see any other paved paths.
Which is not to say it isn't a working village. The path went past rice terraces where children played in the muddy water...
... and others that were being tilled by water buffalo.
In the foreground you can see a young girl working with an infant strapped to her back. Women work from sunup to sundown with babies on their backs. I never heard one of the children cry.
All along the path are huts selling the same souvenirs you can find in town, except that you can buy them straight from the source. I bought a small stone carving from this Hmong woman, working here as her cute little daughter watches. She didn't speak a word of English so I couldn't even manage to find out what her name is. But she does have a celphone.
At the bottom of the hill the path crossed a bridge where I passed a boy, perhaps eight years old, going off to work with his tools.
As I passed him I followed what I think is a good rule when traveling: Always smile at someone carrying an axe and a machete.
Just beneath the bridge was a waterfall where you can plainly see how much rain the area had been receiving in the muddy torrent.
Then it got a bit absurd. There were a couple brick buildings with concrete walkways. Inside one was a traditional arts center with a PA system blasting music into the hillside. It cost extra to go in. Again, I'm happy to contribute to the local economy -- I bought quite a few souvenirs -- but sorry, no, I'm not going to go along with the charade.
From there I decided to wander off the paved walkway and wander some of the dirt paths into the hills. This is the view looking back up at Sapa, with the paved walkway visible in the foreground.
Everywhere I looked were rice terraces built into the mountainside, the reflection off the water making them look like giant marble steps.
For tourists these hills provide a challenging day or two of hiking. The people here walk up and down these hills every day and farm these on these steep slopes. It may be a hard life, but I doubt they ever tire of the view.
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