Under Great Northern Skies
In my travels at least, I don’t think I’ve ever found a country that differs so vastly from north to south as does Vietnam. According to my own, admittedly made-up lore, I visualize the great mountains and sharp peaks of the North as the scaly and rugged head of a dragon, as the body winds its way down the majestic panoramas of coastline, ending in a collection of watery tails in the Mekong Delta.
These images are a look at the lives and land of Vietnam’s great North. Busy traffic-laden streets are nowhere to be found. Instead, motorcycles only moderately more durable than scooters ply their way up and down the pastoral slopes on imperfect trails. Trucks, serving only function over form, wind their way though endless curvature as the roads ascend and fall, all at a snails pace compared to the frantic clip of city life. The work to be done comes in a much more manual flavor than it does in the cities as well, even when most earn their way only by long days and the sweat of their brow. Here, a living can only be borrowed from the soil. Nothing precious is given without effort.