VI
EN
On a October morning in Ha Giang ward, Tuyen Quang province (formerly Dong Van town, Ha Giang province), the gentle sunlight poured down like honey onto the tiled roofs. The sunlight filtered through the early morning mist, illuminating the golden-yellow houses and creating a natural "filter" that made the entire Lo Lo Chai village (Lung Cu commune) seem to glow. Against the backdrop of a clear blue sky and a gentle autumn breeze, that golden hue was like the breath of life, simple yet warm, sincere, just like the people of this place.
The Lo Lo Chai village, with its traditional houses featuring rammed earth walls and yin-yang tiled roofs, is seen from the direction of the Lung Cu flagpole.
The village is located beneath the national flag pole.
From the center of Ha Giang ward, the road leading to the northernmost point winds through silver-gray jagged mountains, past harvested cornfields, and then opens up to a peaceful landscape at an altitude of over 1,400 meters – where Lo Lo Chai nestles at the foot of the Lung Cu flagpole. As you get closer, the golden color of the earthen walls stands out even more against the clear blue sky.
It is said that Lo Lo Chai is nearly 800 years old and is home to about 120 Lo Lo households. More than half of these households are involved in tourism, while the rest remain attached to their cornfields, rice paddies, cattle herds, and jars of fragrant corn wine. The village is small, but everything has its own order – sturdy, handcrafted stone walls, lush green vegetable gardens behind the houses, and the smell of cooking smoke each morning mingling with the mountain mist, creating an unmistakable rural aroma.
The yin-yang tiled roofs, earthen walls, and stone-stacked fences are distinctive features of Lo Lo Chai.
On the way to the village, I stopped by Lung Cu Lake View. A small bridge spans the Dragon's Eye Lake – where the crystal-clear water reflects the clouds and sky. Locals say that at the foot of the flagpole are two symmetrical lakes, resembling the eyes of a dragon guarding the northernmost region. From here, the red flag with a yellow star still flutters proudly, like a peaceful greeting sent to those far away.
A slow pace of life in the golden hues of the sun.
Walking through the village, I felt as if I were stepping through a vibrant painting, where time slowed down amidst the ancient earthen houses. Most of the houses here are made of earth and wood, some dating back several decades to over two hundred years. In the dry season, the walls glow a brilliant yellow; in the rainy season, they darken, becoming damp and carrying the earthy scent of the soil. Under the morning sun, the moss-covered tiled roofs, yellow walls, and hazy kitchen smoke create a golden, honey-like "filter"—a light that makes the entire space feel warm and strangely familiar.
I encountered a few children playing by the stone fence, women in colorful brocade dresses passing by, carrying farming tools, embodying the hard work of the Lo Lo people. A middle-aged man leisurely led his cow to the field, the tinkling of ancient bells echoing in the wind. In another corner of the village, people continued their daily routines: working in the fields, embroidering and sewing, children gathered to play in the yard.
In my eyes, Lo Lo Chai doesn't have the bustling atmosphere of a "highly-recognized" tourist destination; instead, it retains its pristine beauty with a simple, slow pace of life. It's a truly living village, not one put on display for tourists to admire.
The villagers returned from working in the fields, still wearing their traditional clothing.
The villagers say they started developing community tourism in 2011. Of the 37 ancient houses, 28 are used as homestays. The earthen houses, built close together, reflect the strong bonds of the community; their tiled roofs are covered in moss, their yards are filled with golden corn, and bundles of firewood are neatly stacked.
The homestays still retain traditional architecture: brown tiled roofs, wooden pillars, rammed earth floors, and spacious common areas. I appreciate how they preserve everything, from the house frame and household items to the genuine hospitality of the mountain people.
A simple grocery store in the village.
These homestays are renovated from traditional rammed earth houses.
The courtyard where people dry corn and wear traditional brocade clothing.
I slowed my pace, to feel the rhythm of the village. The sun had risen high, illuminating the yellow earthen walls, where time had left its mark with tiny cracks. The sun and wind seemed to pause here, listening to the breath of the people, mingling with the scent of cooking smoke and drying corn. Perhaps it is this harmony, between nature and people, that gives Lo Lo Chai its soul, making anyone who has visited want to return, just to experience the tranquility once more.
A cup of coffee, a moment of peaceful silence in Lo Lo Chai.
In the middle of the village is the Northernmost Cafe, a place almost everyone who comes to Lo Lo Chai stops by. But few people know that this house is over 200 years old, and was once the home of three generations of the family of Mrs. Mung Thi Guay, the owner of the cafe, who is now 86 years old.
I sat in the small courtyard, looking out at the wooden gate and the peach blossom tree, now missing a few branches. Three years ago, I came here during the peach blossom season amidst the biting cold of early spring in the mountainous region. This time, there were no flowers, but the courtyard was surrounded by clumps of lotus, succulents, and shady bamboo. The wind blew from the flagpole, carrying the scent of dried corn and the sound of children calling out to each other in the lane.
The space at the Northernmost Cafe in Lo Lo Chai has been expanded, but the main building where customers sit and enjoy coffee remains largely unchanged.
The coffee in my hand may have tasted slightly different, but the scene and the feeling seem almost unchanged. The white dog, once a puppy, has now grown into a well-built, loyal guard dog.
In the afternoon, the sunlight softened, the golden rays of the setting sun casting a gentle, breathtaking light on the earthen walls and tiled roofs. I looked up; the flag still fluttered proudly on the flagpole at Lung Cu, and below lay the small village, silent in the twilight. In that moment, I understood why this place is so renowned—not only for its beauty, but also for the harmony between its people and its land.
From Lo Lo Chai village, you can see the Lung Cu flagpole flying high in the border region.
Leaving Lo Lo Chai, I carried with me not only the image of a beautiful village, but also the feeling of "living slowly" and rejuvenating my energy amidst nature. There, I felt small amidst the vastness of the land and sky, felt the invisible connection between people and mountains, between the wind and moss-covered tiled roofs. And I realized that peace is sometimes simply a morning spent drinking coffee in a small village bathed in the golden hues of the border region.
