Decorations included palm leaves, traditional weaving frames, and classic Hmong musical instruments like the Khen and Con balls made from cotton and seeds. These items were beautifully displayed for the Long tong Festival, which translates as “going down to the fields”. Large swathes of intricate and colorful traditional textiles made by Tay, Dao, Hmong, and Pa Then people were also showcased. The stage was further enhanced by its backdrop of white limestone walls and natural stalactites, forming a stunning natural bas-relief, all surrounded by pristine forest. I quietly admired the community’s dedication to preserving and maintaining the local ecology. At the center of the stage is the entrance to Tham Pau Cave, nestled within Tham Pau Mountain. Locals recount a legend of a compassionate fairy who taught the people to cultivate cotton and weave. Inside the cave, remnants of a traditional loom remain. I stood in quiet reflection, taking in these traces of the past, the natural bas-reliefs, the untouched forest, and the convergence of cultural traditions.

The crowd gathered for the Fire Dancing Festival grew larger. Young Pa Then men joined the vibrant fire dance, filling the air with energy and power. The bonfire, as large as a house, was built from long logs, the flames crackling as they blazed. The young men leapt into the fire, their daring jumps met with cheers from the crowd. My heart raced each time they plunged into the flames and somersaulted out like magicians. Nearby, the shaman tirelessly struck the “pan do”—a ritual object believed to connect with the fire deity.