Dalat is the next stop for me in Vietnam. It is known for its mountain air, which offers a compelling break from the heat and humidity that has been present everywhere else in Vietnam so far. The climate also makes ideal growing conditions for certain agricultural products, for which Dalat is also known.
On my first full day in Dalat I decide to do a “secret” tour that is well-known in traveller circles. The tour itself isn’t the secret part, though it isn’t advertised and there is only one way to sign up, rather it is the route and destinations on the tour that are kept secret.
There are about 10 people in my tour, which starts with a visit to a cricket “farm” where we try some roasted crickets. We then head to the local market to learn more about all the typical goods one can find in a Vietnamese market. Following the market, we make our way to a beautiful local waterfall and I take the option of going on a little nature walk to the base of the falls.
Following lunch, our guide leads us through a local minority village. Our guide is from one of these minority villages so, in addition to Vietnamese and English, he speaks the local languages. Since other tour operators do not speak the local languages, we are told, they tend to stay away from these villages–keeping them clear of the usual tourist traps. I’m somewhat suspicious of this claim, but sure enough we are the only foreigners in the village and no one seems to be running up to us to try and sell us things (in fact, even if we wanted to buy trinkets, there doesn’t seem to be anyone selling these touristy things in town) which lends the story some credibility.
As we walk through the village, it feels rather quiet. Our guide tells us that the men are away right now doing farming work in the fields. The houses are simple wooden structures. Our guide decides to try asking some of the locals if we can go inside one of their houses. Most of us on tour feel a bit conflicted by this proposition–sure we would love to see what their houses look like to get a better sense of what their lives may be like, but we don’t want to come off as entitled Westerners for whom this village is on total display (even if, in fact, that’s basically what is happening).
The first few people he asks are apprehensive and refuse the request. They seem suspicious- “who are these people and what are they doing here?” seems to read the expression on their faces. “Get them out of here!” seems to be the tone in their voices. The walk is uneasy.
Finally, one woman seems friendly enough and is happy to have us come visit her place. As we walk toward her house, a few minutes away, we ask out guide some more questions about the village. Suddenly, one of the girls in my group notices a unique site and asks the guide about it: “why is there black smoke coming out of that house? Is it something they cook or a candle of some kind?”
We all turn our heads to look at the smoke and the house. Our guide is clearly stumped- and concerned. The smoke gets thicker and darker. We hear screams. It becomes apparent that something is going terribly wrong.
Not all the houses are connected to electricity here, but this particular house is connected to the grid. Someone runs to the pole across the street–right by where we are standing– and flicks the switch, presumably to cut off the power supply.
This all seems to be happening so fast and we aren’t quite sure how to react. In a matter of seconds, flames start bursting out of the roof and the harsh reality sets in- this house is on fire. A few women rush out of the house- one wailing. They all rush back in just bringing out whatever items they can outside. A few local villagers begin to assist. Our guide tells us not to move or go anywhere.
A few of us assist the neighbour and start clearing a few things at the risk that the fire will consume that household too, but we are told to stop and to move away. At this point I’m experiencing a strange upheaval of emotions: fear, sadness, helpless, disbelief, and on and on…
There is no fire department close by and Dalat, the major city, is at least an hour’s drive from here. Since many of the villagers are out farming, there aren’t many of them here to tend to the fire. Our guide whisks us away to the local temple. He is scared that when the authorities do arrive, we could get in trouble-or at least he could-and, therefore, feels this is a necessary precaution.
Sitting inside the temple common room, we are absolutely stunned and speechless. Our energy is depleted. Clearly having your house burn down is devastating wherever that may be in the world, but at least in the West we have access to certain social safety nets, such as insurance, to help us rebuild. In this mountain village in Vietnam, I don’t think there is such a thing as home insurance.
Hours later, our other guide returns with the update: the fire is successfully extinguished but the house, along with its contents, is gone.
***
The rest of my time in Dalat feels (thankfully) uneventful. I did manage to get to some cool places though, like Crazy House which is a dream creation of a local architect/artist and is basically an awesome fort full of discovery. And I made sure to try the local speciality, Dalat pizza, before I left too!
Impermanent Establishments 