Da Bia – A Village in Transition

Starting June 2025, the community-based tourism model in Đá Bia hamlet must temporarily cease operations—a difficult decision, yet an unavoidable consequence as the Hoa Binh – Moc Chau expressway begins construction through this cherished land.

The project will include a 2-kilometer-long bridge crossing the river, obstructing the panoramic view that local residents once enjoyed—a view once defined by crystal-blue waters and golden-hued sunsets. Additionally, around 2,000 engineers and workers will soon arrive to serve this major infrastructure effort. Life here, long centered around fish farming and welcoming travelers, is being reshaped in profound ways.

Some villagers are becoming construction workers. Others are converting their homestays into lodgings for engineers. Food stalls, haircut shops, and makeshift services are springing up rapidly in this quaint little hamlet of fewer than 200 people—a place where the weekly market once relied on boat deliveries twice a week. The peace and simplicity of this village are giving way to new, louder rhythms—but for now, that is the only path forward.

Thanks to their years of experience in community-based tourism, the locals have adapted quickly and effectively—shifting from hosting travelers to accommodating construction crews. Many engineer teams even expressed their delight at having clean places to sleep and delicious meals to enjoy.

We, the team behind Action on CBT (Community-Based Tourism), understand that economic development is inevitable. Still, we cannot help but feel a deep sense of loss and longing. For at least 3 to 4 years, tourism here must go quiet. And after that—when the road brings easier access—what will become of the landscape, the environment, and the spirit of this place? We do not know.

Let us share a few heartfelt words from one of our team members – Ms. Trang—a young woman born and raised in the serenity of this lakeside region. Her mother, Ms. Yeu, was among the very first to welcome international visitors to Đá Bia, and a living keeper of ancient tales from the Mường Aụ Tá people.

Just three months… and I no longer recognize the place I once knew down to every bush, every slope.
Still Đá Bia – but changed in ways I never imagined.
Every time I meet a friend, the first question they ask is: “How’s Đá Bia these days?”
I… don’t know how to answer. Since the highway construction began, I haven’t posted a single photo of my hometown’s new face. Not because I’m in denial—but because I just… can’t bear to.
Everything has changed too fast, too sharply—like a clean, sudden cut.
Yesterday, I sat and looked at “Đá Bia” for a long, long time… and cried.
For the first time, I cried in broad daylight—not because of a leech biting me in the forest, but because it truly hurt.
I miss everything—everything that raised us through poverty and peace.
Now that the resistance in my heart has softened, I want to share—so that those who love Đá Bia, who once came here, who remember—can see Đá Bia in a moment that’s no longer peaceful, no longer poetic, no longer lush green like the memories.
I still love Đá Bia. I miss the quiet afternoons, the children’s laughter, the chirping birds, the rustling leaves in the wind, the engine sounds of fishing boats… But I’m slowly learning to accept. No blame. No complaint.
Just a desire to preserve, before the familiar is replaced by the new.
Đá Bia is still beautiful—beautiful behind the scaffolding, in the dry riverbeds, in the scarred hills being leveled…
We who live here still love our homeland—not only when it’s serene, but even now, when it’s chaotic and changing every day.
And maybe, one day, someone who once visited will return—driving on a brand new road—
And suddenly stop…
Silent in front of a Đá Bia that is no longer the same—
But still, somehow, familiar enough to warm the heart.

A lake of memories, still flowing within us…