Diamond Shards. That night, at Pom Coong, our headquarters, the valley was enveloped in a deep silence, sometimes broken by a puppy barking. An inky night that invites us to take a stroll outside the village, by the light of a flashlight. Suddenly, a sparkling sea appears which makes us wonder “But-what-is-that?”. However, it only takes a brief moment for us to understand that only glow worms can have these diamond shards hanging above the rice fields and disappearing at the slightest light reflection.

Wading in icy water. At the beginning of spring, between Dien Bien Phu and Lai Chau, on the mountain sides of stepped rice fields, the women, and sometimes the men, side by side in the same plots, help each other for the most exhausting task that is, the transplanting of rice uniting a bent humanity wading in icy water at mid-calf calves, for hours, hands swollen and white with water.

Wedding feast. That summer, we were invited to the innkeeper's son's wedding feast. Early in the morning, friends and neighbors arrive to lend a hand: between the stilts of the workshops are organized instantly as if they had always been made for this: slaughter then plunge the chickens in a cauldron of boiling water, pluck them, slicing pork, carving long bamboo sticks for the skewers, washing bowls and plates for about three hundred guests... In a secluded corner, in front of his coffee table, the master chef carves turnip, carrot, cucumber, let it soak in a basin of water.

Traditional chalet. A few days later, after breakfast, taking advantage of the peacefulness, we want to go towards the promontory of the chalet to enjoy the landscape of the silky green rice fields sleeping below, in the neighboring hamlet of Ban Lac. But our steps stop, because on our left, women and men silently lined up in two lines, holding long ropes tied to the top of the wooden frame of a traditional chalet which is going to be straightened on cement soles. No one gives their opinion. Suddenly, “Oh! Hoist!” set the pace. We pull on the ropes while stepping back to hoist it vertically, while others firmly hold the bamboo poles attached to the ridge to check and adjust the plumb.

Gold mining. Mai Chau is one of the two regions of Vietnam famous for weaving. Its artisanal articles are the business of city stores. Each household has its profession, which makes it an economic activity parallel to agricultural work. But its land contains another resource that the local population exploits, here and there, out of any police control. The tiniest silhouette of a uniform brings out the weapons of nothingness that speak for themselves: people are at home here. Without our friend Mr Quay, a guide in his native lands, who opens the doors to impenetrable places, we will never be able to visit the three open-pit gold mines. Young handlers brace their legs, feet, and side to climb, heavy hoods secured to their foreheads by wide straps supported by the arms. With their bodies released, they catch their breath before grabbing onto the slope to control their descent. Sometimes they take a break and quench their thirst

Military antenna. But, in Hang Kia, an enclave between the hills with houses and chalets scattered on both sides of the only circular path, there is only the communal house clearly visible with its name fashioned on the pediment. In the back rises, high in the sky, a military antenna. Mr. Bang looks at it pursing his lips:

— To overcome these people, it would take at least a well-armed battalion ... But only just...! See, there on our left? Well! In the bowels of this hill there is at least three hundred kilograms of gold!

Mr. Quay abounds:

—  Ah! If only the government gave us the authorization to exploit a piece of it, we could live peacefully from our work on the heights. But he wanted to appropriate everything… The soldiers had even come for that. But we had pushed them back. So this antenna has since been installed to control our traffic. Sometimes, they take a break and quench their thirst

Inquire about the news. That's why no living soul during the day, only a woman stands guard, while embroidering in front of a small wood fire, next to the only stall in the village. Mr. Bang takes a seat next to her, speaks to her in a low voice, and inquires about news from the village, reaching out to the meager flames.

"Mui lo". Not far from there, two children engaged in their solitary activities. The one smiling in front of his birdcage while whistling. The other, melancholy, probably impressed by so many "Mui lo" ("Big Noses", in other words Europeans) that he sees for the first time in his life.

Animated scenes. One afternoon in March 2019, on the winding road from Xin Cai to Meo Vac, under a soft sun, the car arrives at the top of a mountain. The driver stops to enjoy the scenery and take photos. Having already crossed so many of this type of relief, we know that lively scenes are often hidden there... Indeed, among the rocks channeling a stream, two families are doing their laundry, below, a woman and two children in a pond of water at the foot of the stream. Upstream, a couple sitting between the rocks.