During my stay in rural Vietnam, I had the chance to explore a small village near Phong Nha with Ben, a local guide whose deep connection to the area brought every story to life.
Ben ran a morning walk for guests, guiding them through the village and sharing stories about the land and its people. The walk took us past the rice paddies, which are divided among families in the village. Each family gets its own section to cultivate.
Agriculture
Ben explained how the villagers plant their first rice crop at the end of December or early January and harvest it in April. Some used to grow a second crop afterward, but that has become less common. The second crop is often too risky—lack of water in summer or floods right before harvest could wipe it out. Now, many families have decided it’s not worth the effort, especially as their economic situation has improved over the years.
Ben showed us one of the small houses built specifically to shelter cows during the growing season. Long grass grows behind it, used as feed. Interestingly, a major part of the cattle’s diet comes from banana tree trunks. Families chop the trunks into pieces, almost like coleslaw, to feed their cows. It’s a common sight in central Vietnam to see people riding motorbikes with banana trees tied across the back, carefully balancing them as they navigate the roads.
As we walked further, Ben pointed out avocado trees, pineapples, green tea, and turmeric growing among the pepper plants. The village’s resourcefulness was incredible. Each piece of land seemed to have a purpose, a balance of crops carefully chosen to make the most of what nature had to offer.
Modernization
As we talked about modernization, I asked Ben if he thought there would come a time when people might stop working the land altogether. With development speeding up, would farming eventually be left behind?
Ben said he’s seen incredible changes over the years. When he first arrived, people were farming just to survive. Now, the villagers have gone through so many stages of development. They’ve moved from wooden huts to brick houses, from bicycles to motorbikes, and now some families are even buying cars. It’s a huge transformation, and mechanization has played a big role in it.
With more modern machines and income from relatives working overseas, many families now question whether it’s worth the effort to plant a second rice crop, especially when the risk of failure is so high.
He also said the bull was still useful for plowing small vegetable patches. Since most families no longer kept cows, they’d ask the bull’s owner to bring it over instead of spending an entire day digging by hand.
Young Generation and The Future
As we walked through the village, I brought up a question that had been on my mind. With younger generations becoming more educated and moving to cities like Saigon or even overseas, would they want to come back to their roots someday?
I asked Ben what happened when the younger generation left for education or work in big cities like Saigon. Would they eventually return? He explained that while many did leave, they often left their children behind with grandparents, who couldn’t manage the farming. This led to an interesting trend: families began handing over their rice paddies to neighbors or relatives.
These new landholders would grow their operations, sometimes managing plots for multiple families. They’d invest in machines to increase efficiency and pay rent to the landowners in rice. Over time, a single farmer could end up working large portions of the village’s land, creating a system where fewer people were directly involved in farming, but production continued.
Local Community and Connections
The village is a living tapestry of stories and relationships that connect its people in remarkable ways. Ben shared how much of the village’s population can trace their roots to one man who settled here after fleeing the French. He hid in the jungle, built a life, and eventually became the ancestor of many families now living on the hill. This history underscores how deeply tied the community is to its land and shared heritage.
The interconnectedness extends beyond ancestry. Families work together, lending land, labor, and resources to one another. For example, those who leave for work abroad often entrust their rice paddies to neighbors or relatives, creating a system of mutual reliance. It’s a practical solution that keeps farming alive while accommodating modern economic realities.
Conclusion
This village is more than just a place—it’s a living history, a community that thrives on connection, and a reminder of how deeply land and culture can shape our lives. For anyone lucky enough to visit, it’s not just a glimpse into rural Vietnam but an inspiring look at how tradition and innovation can coexist.
This is just the first episode of Phong Nha, follow for more experiences in the future!