In Ha Giang, on the China border of Vietnam. The final frontier. This is a Hmong lady. She doesn’t speak Vietnamese but understands about as much as me — very little. She doesn’t seem to know her age (she said khong biet — I don’t know — rather than khong hieu — I don’t understand) but has more than likely stood at this hill top chewing grass for most of her life. I would love to know what she thinks about. From interviews we’ve done up here before, rice and corn is probably a regular topic, and whether or not she will have enough to feed her family. Read the Ha Giang cover story from April’s The Word Ha Noi here.