[Even today villagers are reluctant to discuss the abductions, and defer
to Mrs. Mai. By her account, at least seven women were taken, and after they
were shunned upon their return, she invited them into her home and eventually
brought them into a small textile cooperative founded by her and her husband.
She taught them how to separate hemp stems into strands, spin the strands into
thread, weave the thread into fabric, and dye the fabric for clothes and other
items.]
By Julie Chon
 |
Justin Mott for The New York Times
Ma Thi Mi was sold for marriage in China. She now works
with Vang Thi Mai's co-op in Hop Tien making crafts
to be sold to tourists. More Photos »
|
What they do not see as they glance over the ruggedly beautiful territories
of northern Vietnam
Over a decade ago, human traffickers descended on this seemingly
forgotten slice of soaring limestone crags and lush valleys to snatch up women
and children and sell them over the border in China, less than four miles away.
The first predators arrived in Hop Tien in 2003, offering in seemingly
innocent tones to buy some young women new shoes. Then the women disappeared.
Soon, others vanished, too, all between the ages of 16 and 22, to be sold as
wives, forced labor or sex workers.
They were victims of a relatively widespread problem in Vietnam
Between 2001 and 2005, the Chinese police say they rescued more than
1,800 trafficking victims on the Vietnam Vietnam
Not least is the stigma attached to the victims once they have been
rescued. After villagers here reported the abductions, the Vietnamese
authorities collaborated with Chinese officials to find the women and, remarkably,
bring them home.
But residents’ elation lurched to horror at the realization that two of
the women were pregnant. News quickly spread that the others, too, had been
made sex workers, and even those who did not bear the signs of the trade paid
its price.
Fearful that a fallen woman would cast shame on the whole family,
several households quickly disowned their kidnapped daughters. Some of the
girls built makeshift tents. Now abandoned, the blue specks can still be seen
tucked high into the mountainside, a wide distance from town.
They were outcasts, without food, income or hope.
That is when Vang Thi Mai, a short woman, with work-worn hands and a
round, beaming face, took them in, and changed their lives and the fortunes of
the entire village.
Even today villagers are reluctant to discuss the abductions, and defer
to Mrs. Mai. By her account, at least seven women were taken, and after they
were shunned upon their return, she invited them into her home and eventually
brought them into a small textile cooperative founded by her and her husband.
She taught them how to separate hemp stems into strands, spin the strands into
thread, weave the thread into fabric, and dye the fabric for clothes and other
items.
“When I began working with the victims, the town ostracized and
criticized me for being associated with the women,” Mrs. Mai, 49, recounted in
an interview. “They said the women were unpure and I should not befriend such
unpure women. I told them what happened was not their fault, as they were the
victims of others’ wrong doings.”
Mrs. Mai, who had worked as a nurse and had been president of the
district’s Women’s Association, told the women who had returned to ignore the
village’s scorn. “I said to them that when they would be able to earn money, to
live on their own, and to care for others with their earned money, the town
would have to change their thinking,” she said.
Indeed, one by one, other village women began noticing the co-op’s
profits, and grew eager to join. Today the co-op is 110-women strong, and
working there can increase a household’s income fourfold. Even some men have
begun helping with heavy lifting and more labor-intensive chores. Over the
years, Mrs. Mai said she has also brought victims of domestic violence into the
co-op.
During a recent visit, two mothers chatted above the rhythmic clacking
of wooden looms inside the workshop. Outside in the smoky morning air, a young
woman, slowly and patiently sewed a pattern onto a new square of fabric.
When one of the crafts is sold, Mrs. Mai explained, the income is
distributed evenly among the women who helped produce it. She keeps 3,000
Vietnamese dong, or less than fifteen cents from each item, for a “rainy day
fund” to help the women.
Today the co-op sells its goods to an increasing number of tourists who
visit. Other customers include the French Embassy, a tourism company, a hotel
owner and an export company in Hanoi
The village, which lies within the commune of Lung Tam, is still poor,
but earns more than before, and is in many ways better off than many others in
Ha Giang, the country’s northernmost province and one of Vietnam
Mrs. Mai’s co-op has managed to preserve the traditions of her Hmong minority, while improving the region’s
economy and empowering its women, a hat trick that has steadily earned her the
support of political figures and nongovernmental organizations alike. Mrs. Mai
has been visited by President Tran Duc Luong of Vietnam France
“It’s so unexpected when you see her, and you know what she has been
able to do,” Stephanie Benamozig, a project manager for Batik, wrote in an
e-mail. “You almost expect a business woman wearing a suit, but she is a very modest
and smiling woman. She looks like the town mother.”
Indeed, Mrs. Mai, who on her own initiative and with her parents’
support was educated until age 17, is one of the few in her province who speaks
and reads Vietnamese in addition to her minority dialect. Such education is
rare among the province’s Hmong, more than 60 percent of whom remain
illiterate.
Her own daughter is now a teacher, and she encourages the women in the
co-op to send their children to school, too. Poverty, strict patriarchal mores,
and a lack of knowledge of the outside world have left many other trafficking
survivors in this region with few options.
So much of the success of the co-op has depended on Mrs. Mai’s
extraordinary skills that it has proved difficult to replicate. “Mrs. Mai is
very strong,” Ms. Benamozig said. “In Lung Tam, Mrs. Mai deals with everything.
She manages everything. It’s not common to have such a personality.”
Many of the women Mrs. Mai initially rescued have since married. “They
were lucky to find men who were able to understand that their unpureness was
not their fault and loved them for who they were,” she said. Attitudes in the
village have slowly changed.
“There is still a group of elders who cannot understand and support me,”
Mrs. Mai said. “But the rest — younger people — are able to see why I did what
I did and support me. They also no longer ostracize the women.”
