Post from Tim:
The colorful Sapa weekend market in northern Vietnam should be a wonderland of photographic "good shots". On a flight of stairs above the commotion, I had a great view of the many hill tribe people below me. The Black H'mong women, known by their indigo-dyed hand woven clothes and pillbox hats, were there in the greatest numbers. The Red Dzou women were the most colorful, dressed up with bright red hats of folded cloth that sat back on their shaved heads. All around me, stripes of colorful beadwork, bright woven textiles, gold teeth, and dangling silver earrings filled the market with color.
My first instinct was to take photos, and I soon found out how little the minority people appreciated it. They all turned, hid, or asked for money. Out of respect for their wishes, I put my camera in my backpack and took photos with my memory.
Many other tourists didn't care if they upset the locals and went chasing after them with cameras or took their photos after being asked not to. They just shot away, like taking photos of animals in the zoo or freaks in a freak show.
One Frenchman walked around the market with his photography vest full, the brim of his round hat up pushed up the same style as Ralph Kramden, and his large black camera. He first tried to surprise the hill tribe people by snapping quickly composed shots. They must have been to fast for his Nikon, because he quickly changed tactics and started walking past the women with his camera hiked on his shoulder trying to snap photos without looking through his viewfinder. He thought he was being discreet, but the click of his camera could be heard 15 feet away and his eyes bulged with comic trickery when he strained to look sideways. His behavior could not have been more obvious.
But the hill tribe people return to the market and put up with this every weekend. Why? To sell tourists hill tribe crafts. I think every woman there tried to sell me a bracelet, handbag, hat, pillow, weaving, article of clothing, or some other miscellaneous trinket. If I showed the slightest interest, eight other women would flock around me trying to sell similar items.
It is an even trade. Too many tourists spoil what used to be a genuine cultural experience. They then turn their visit into an opportunity to take photos to wow their friends at home, while the hill tribe people sell out their values to improve their poor living conditions. While both groups walked away with what they wanted, I left with a sense of emptiness.
But I guess I can't complain. As a tourist there, I'm part of the problem.
My first instinct was to take photos, and I soon found out how little the minority people appreciated it. They all turned, hid, or asked for money. Out of respect for their wishes, I put my camera in my backpack and took photos with my memory.
Many other tourists didn't care if they upset the locals and went chasing after them with cameras or took their photos after being asked not to. They just shot away, like taking photos of animals in the zoo or freaks in a freak show.
One Frenchman walked around the market with his photography vest full, the brim of his round hat up pushed up the same style as Ralph Kramden, and his large black camera. He first tried to surprise the hill tribe people by snapping quickly composed shots. They must have been to fast for his Nikon, because he quickly changed tactics and started walking past the women with his camera hiked on his shoulder trying to snap photos without looking through his viewfinder. He thought he was being discreet, but the click of his camera could be heard 15 feet away and his eyes bulged with comic trickery when he strained to look sideways. His behavior could not have been more obvious.
But the hill tribe people return to the market and put up with this every weekend. Why? To sell tourists hill tribe crafts. I think every woman there tried to sell me a bracelet, handbag, hat, pillow, weaving, article of clothing, or some other miscellaneous trinket. If I showed the slightest interest, eight other women would flock around me trying to sell similar items.
It is an even trade. Too many tourists spoil what used to be a genuine cultural experience. They then turn their visit into an opportunity to take photos to wow their friends at home, while the hill tribe people sell out their values to improve their poor living conditions. While both groups walked away with what they wanted, I left with a sense of emptiness.
But I guess I can't complain. As a tourist there, I'm part of the problem.
Photos From This Location
