| Muller | Hitchhiking Vietnam
Page 118 |
A boisterous crowd of Hmong and Zao gathered around the traders' mats. A close-cropped Hmong man squatted near a pile of small-animal traps, wistfully opening and closing their rusty teeth. He stood and shuffled off and another took his place. This man clutched several bills and motioned to a stack of razor-thin saw blades wrapped in twine. For the next thirty minutes he examined every single blade, testing each tooth with the ball of his thumb until his fingers were bloody and he had finally found one to his liking. He paid and was quickly pushed aside by the next eager customer.
Few of the items for sale were basic necessities. This then, was the disposal area for the newfound wealth from the embroidery trade - I had wondered where the money went. Certainly not for dental work, since most of the women had only a few token teeth, and those that remained looked like they would soon be on their way. Not for food; even the children, despite chronically leaky noses in the chilly winter air, seemed remarkably healthy and well-nourished. I wormed my way forward to inspect the mats.
An entire section was devoted to bangles and strings of plastic beads. Tiny bottles of dragon oil and hand-rolled pills were also quite popular, the brighter the better. The hardware section was exclusively male turf, and here the traders outdid themselves in their effort to introduce gadgets indispensable to every village household. A Hmong man picked up an old pair of barber shop clippers with interlocking blades. He played with them for a moment or two, then grabbed a friend's head and cut a broad swath of his hair to the crown. He seemed quite pleased with the result and immediately sheared off one of his own sideburns. His friends were saved from further impromptu barbering by the trader, who snatched away the clippers, shook them clean of hair, and shooed all but serious buyers away.
