Travel
Finding Indigo in Vietnam
Susu was standing by the side of the road with several other members of her Black Hmong tribe when our small group clambered out of a van near Sa Pa, in northwestern Vietnam.
We were in the last week of a six-week trip that included Thailand, Cambodia, Laos and Vietnam. Tom and I had left The Epic Van in my mother’s driveway and hopped a plane from Phoenix to join our friends Meredith and Jackie on this “Ancient Kingdoms” trip, which included a visit to Angkor Wat.
The plan for the day was to hike six miles to a tiny village where we would meet local Hmong tribal members in their traditional wooden homes. We would watch a tiny grandmother in her dirt-floored home, making intricate batik designs with beeswax on fabric, then dyeing it in her ever-bubbling pot of indigo.
Susu came from an even more remote village, walking several hours over the distant hills. When she wasn’t tending rice fields, she came to this departure point to sell handmade items carried on her back in a woven tea basket.
“Not until we get to the village,” our guide said, obviously concerned we would fall behind schedule. She was right to be worried, because in our group were several women who, like me, were fabric lovers, including quilters from Indiana, art lovers from Seattle, and folk art collectors from Arizona.
So off we trekked, our group swollen with our new Hmong friends. Susu fell in beside me, and, with her smattering of English, we began to talk.
Using hand gestures, I shared my addiction to yarn and knitting. I also explained that I made clothes, although I’m not sure I got across the upcycling nature of my craft business, or that I sell at art festivals. I use vintage and indigenous fabrics, and my suitcase was already bulging with treasures gathered along our path.
Near Chiang Rai, Thailand, we visited women of the Karen tribe, who wear heavy metal coils around their necks to make them appear longer. They use handmade swifts and looms to weave beautiful cotton and silk scarves, and make intricately cross-stitch embroidered fabrics. I gathered several scarves and a beautiful purse there.
In Luang Prabang, Laos, we saw silk production, from moth eggs, to larva, to cocoon, to thread to loom. We learned how a flame, touched to the corner of a cloth, could distinguish real silk from its synthetic imitators. If it’s real, the flame will extinguish itself. If it’s polyester or nylon, it will continue to burn.
Everywhere, everywhere, women were weaving. More scarves into the suitcase. In night markets across the region, weavers set out their beautiful wares, and it was hard to choose among the kaleidoscope of colors.
Here, in this valley, where the Hmong are believed to have settled from northern China, hemp is the material at hand.
Susu wore a traditional Hmong jacket made of handwoven hemp, intricately decorated with batik and embroidery. She had leg wrappings and an apron of the same indigo-dyed cloth, a colorful shawl wrapped around her waist, and a purple silk turban on her head, which she later wrapped with a colorful scarf.
Over her shoulders hung strips of hemp, dried, pounded and torn into thin pieces. As she walked and talked, she pulled out individual pieces, spliced them together with her fingers and wound them around her hands. Eventually, these hand-wound balls would be used on looms.
Mile after mile, Susu spliced and wound. As we walked past hillsides of terraced rice fields, we talked about our far-apart homes, husbands and children. The women chattered and laughed. They picked wildflowers and wove them into hearts for us.
Along the way, our guide pointed out indigo growing wild and crushed the leaves on our palms to show us the color it produced.
Finally, just before we got to the village, at a spot with several benches, we stopped and Susu and her fellow tribeswomen began to unload their baskets.
Out came an amazing display of intricate work, rolls of batik, pieces of colorful embroidery, swatches of decorated clothing, older pieces, ready to re-use, all of it beautiful. So many pieces. What must have been months of work. Much of what was in Susu’s basket was transferred into my backpack with visions of the things I’d make when I returned home.
Susu and I, both sweaty from the long hike, laughed and hugged. I marveled at the connection, in this remote valley of rice fields and indigo plants, of two women who love textiles.
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This is so inspiring. You don’t have to be wealthy to lead a rich, colorful life. Although, personally, I don’t think I could do without a flush toilet. Thank you, Judy!
Yes! Some comforts are good!
It is 5 a.m., a dark, rainy morning in MN, and I am sitting on the edge of my bed, awestruck by your story of
fibers and new friends among the
Hmong weavers. Their textile patterns are so richly colored, so
complex, so beautiful.Thanks very much for this unexpectedly
lovely start to this day …. I will
share it with fiber friends ….Carol M.
to
Thank you, Carol! Isn’t it wonderful how we can connect across the world. I’m currently in Arizona, where we have record heat, and rain sounds lovely to me. So glad you enjoyed the piece.
Thank you for this article! Coincidentally I’m reading Twilight Territory by Andrew Pham which chronicles Vietnam during WW2. I’d love to follow in your travel footsteps!
D’Anne,
Yes, yes. Go! Thanks for the book suggestion. Some of the books we read before going were Vietnam: Rising Dragon, by Bill Payton; The Gods Drink Whisky, by Stephen t. Adam; The Women, by Kristin Hannah; and Vietnam, A New History, by Christopher Goscha.
Thank you for sharing your fascinating journey. The batik from that part of the world is awe inspiring. How wonderful you were able to meet the makers!
Indigo Squirrel,
Love your name. Are you a dyer? I am trying to find a good place to take an indigo course in Arizona or somewhere along my travels. I’ve seen some cool looking experiences in Japan! Maybe Kay and Ann can organize an MDK field trip! I’m in.
Beautiful story! I’m so glad you were able to buy directly from the makers and meet them.
Staton,
It was a lovely experience. They were so enthusiastic and happy to share their work.
This was truly a blessing. A place and a life I’ll never see but just experienced a touch of. Thank you, dear lady, for your life shared.
Thank you, Diane
Thank you for sharing your adventure!
My pleasure, Patricia!
Thank you so much for taking us with you on your travels. This is a fascinating and beautiful story.
So glad you enjoyed it, Molly!
Such a beautiful article, thank you Judy. The photos are wonderful.
Thanks, Barb!
All wonderful but what about that glorious jewelry Susan is wearing??!! Can you tell us anything about that?
Laura,
It was beautiful. Here’s an article I found about the history of Hmong jewelry: https://hmongdailynews.com/the-origin-of-the-hmong-xauv-p332-120.htm
I know her name is Susu! Autocorrect!
Thank you for sharing your trip with us! It is so amazing to see the work of local artisans and experience the conditions under which those lovely textiles are created. A number of years ago, my mother, an accomplished handmade papermaker in her own right, took a trip into the rural Chinese mountains to learn how to make paper the way local villagers had been making it since the Han Dynasty (AD 105). The village conditions were rough — no electricity, no running water, no toilets as we know them — but the paper produced was strong, but very fine, and extremely beautiful.
Jouradnik,
What a wonderful experience. Do you still have some of her paper?
What a wonderful adventure…thank you for sharing it! Kudos to the tour guide too…with so many lovely people and destinations on the trip, I can only imagine her challenges in keeping a group of fiber lovers on schedule. 🙂
Hahahah! She was so lovely, and shared her life story with us, which was fascinating.
Completely the best, Judy!!! Wow, thank you. I loved taking this trip with you virtually.
Thanks, Jenni!
Sometimes we just don’t know where beauty can be found!!! Sometimes far away, but often closer than you think. Enjoy the beauty around you today!!
Perfect advice, Carole!
How marvelous. Thanks for sharing.
My pleasure, Sunny!
This is so great! Thank you for sharing this experience with us. I want to play with indigo!
Me, too, Michele. I’ve gotten a couple of books and am looking for a class I can attend. I want to dye some YARN!
Thank you for sharing this wonderful story.
Thank you for sharing your lovely experience with native artisans. Your photos are marvelous and really give an intimate feeling of your appreciation of these artists. I did have the pleasure of visiting a village in Sapa and saw how the women did batik. Of course, like you, I left there with many treasured pieces of textiles created by the women I met… and it was hard to say goodbye.