THREE DAYS IN SẢ NHÈ LỬ – A BORDERLAND STORY 🏔️🌿

A challenge without a phone – where emotions, memories, and reality intertwine in the borderlands. 📵✨

I stopped at a small slope. In front of me was Sả Nhè Lử, a H’Mông village perched precariously on the border of Mèo Vạc, less than 1km from China. The afternoon mist lingered, and I felt something strange—like standing between two worlds. 🌫️🌏

Before me stretched an endless barbed-wire border fence, running along the rugged karst mountains. Beyond it was Chinese territory, where rooftops faintly emerged behind the distant hills. 🏡🇨🇳

Mr. Rình, my guide, a H’Mông man in his fifties, stood silently beside the border marker. His eyes gazed beyond the line, his voice slow and nostalgic:

“There was no fence in the past. Our people moved as freely as breathing—farming on one side, returning home on the other. Corn, rice, buffaloes, even family ties—all crossed this invisible border…” 🌾🐂

I stood still, picturing ancient footpaths winding through the mountains, where countless feet had traveled for centuries without needing passports or permits. But things are different now. The world changes fast!

As evening fell, I followed Mr. Rình back to the village. Modest earthen houses nestled under late-blooming peach trees. H’Mông children played with wooden spinning tops—no phones, no internet, no TikTok—yet their eyes sparkled with pure joy. 🎠😊

A Life of Simplicity and Survival 🌿

The morning in Hà Giang was as clear as the lingering mist on the grass. I followed Mr. Cường into the forest to collect firewood.

“Here, living means knowing how to fend for yourself,” he chuckled, handing me a small knife. “You’ve never chopped wood before, have you?”

I scratched my head. “No… never.” 😅

In the forest, I realized that gathering firewood wasn’t as easy as I had thought. Dry branches were hard to find, and carrying a heavy bundle across sharp karst rocks was a real challenge. While Mr. Cường moved swiftly like a squirrel, I was drenched in sweat, struggling to keep my balance. 🌳💦

Back home, I helped light the fire. The smoke stung my eyes, but the scent of burning wood brought an unexpected sense of peace. Lunch was simple—mèn mén (steamed cornmeal), wild vegetable soup, and smoked buffalo meat with chẩm chéo (a traditional dipping sauce)—but it was more delicious than any gourmet meal I had ever tasted. 🥘😋

In the afternoon, I was given a new task: herding buffaloes 🐃. A H’Mông boy named Páo led me to the grazing fields at 1,800m above sea level. The path was steep and rocky, but once we reached the top, I was left speechless by the breathtaking scenery. 🌄

“Do you see that?” Páo pointed towards the valley.

Below us, the Nho Quế River gleamed like a jade ribbon winding through the Tu Sản Gorge—the deepest canyon in Southeast Asia. The Mã Pì Lèng Pass snaked through the white clouds, resembling a mighty dragon soaring through the sky. 🐉🌊

“In the past, there was no road. To cross the gorge, people had to climb cliffs or row boats for an entire day.”

I thought about the legendary Happiness Road, where thousands of youth volunteers sacrificed their lives to carve a path through Mã Pì Lèng, bringing hope to this once-isolated land.

“Do you feel small?” Páo asked. I nodded… Not only did I feel small, but for a moment, it felt like time itself had stopped. 🌏✨

Finding Connection in Disconnection 📵🌿

I lay down on a vast green meadow, watching the buffaloes graze peacefully. In the distance, Páo played a leaf flute, its melody echoing through the silent mountains. 🎶🍂

For the first time in years, I wasn’t distracted by notifications, messages, or social media.

I thought about the barbed-wire fence—the line that divided two worlds, the past and the present. I thought about the ancient trails where people once traveled, sharing food and water. 🛤️🍚

I remembered Mr. Cường’s words:

“Some things are lost forever, but others remain. Like the Nho Quế River, like Mã Pì Lèng Peak. And like the people here—no matter how much the world changes.” 💙

Three days without a phone, without the internet, I found something I never realized I had lost: a true connection—with people, with nature, and with myself. 🌿🤍

💡 Would you dare to try? 💡 Three days without a phone, without social media—only mountains, nature, people, and yourself. Come to Hà Giang once, and listen to your own story. 🚶‍♂️🎒💚

——————The Wanderer 🙌🤳✨❤