In the Northeast, the sound you hear most on the road is not music from a speaker. It is wind moving through rock, engines, and — with luck — a khen carrying up from a yard somewhere below the road. This region has a dense musical life, most of which never reaches a streaming platform.
The Hmong khen — instrument and rite
The Hmong khen is a musical instrument and a ritual object at once. It is played for pleasure, at markets, in courtship; but its most important repertoire is played at funerals, guiding the dead back to the ancestors. One such piece can last for hours, and the player dances while playing — turning, leaning back, sometimes dropping almost to the ground without letting the sound break.
The khen art of the Hmong in Ha Giang was added to Vietnam’s National List of Intangible Cultural Heritage in 2015, covering the districts of the stone plateau. In Dong Van and Meo Vac there are still craftsmen making khen by hand — a wooden body, bamboo pipes, brass reeds — and no two instruments come out the same.
One caution: if you hear a long, low khen coming from a house with many people around it, you are most likely hearing a funeral. Do not walk over with a camera. It is not a performance.
The jew’s harp — courtship without words
The jew’s harp is a small brass tongue held at the lips and plucked with a finger. It is so quiet that only someone standing very close can hear it — which is precisely the point. A young man stands outside the stone fence and plays; the girl inside the house knows who is out there. A whole tradition of courtship folded into a piece of metal the size of a finger joint.
Then singing and the tinh lute
In the lower country of Ha Giang, Cao Bang, Bac Kan and Lang Son, the Tay and Nung have Then — song and ritual together, performed for healing, for blessing, for lifting misfortune — accompanied by the two- or three-stringed tinh lute. In 2019 UNESCO inscribed the Then practice of the Tay, Nung and Thai in Vietnam on its Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity.
A Then practitioner is not a singer but a ritual master. When you attend a real Then session you are attending a ceremony with a patient, a household and a specific purpose — not a show.
Luon, sli, coi, pao dung, soong co
Each people here has its own way of singing: luon and coi among the Tay, sli among the Nung, pao dung among the Dao, soong co among the San Diu. What they share is that all are sung between men and women, improvised on the spot, and can run all night at a market. A good singer is respected here as much as a good singer in the city — but for a different reason: for how fast the words come.
The Khau Vai love market
The Khau Vai love market in Meo Vac, held once a year on the 27th day of the third lunar month, is the best known of these gatherings. In its original form it was the day when people who had loved each other but could not marry met again, sang to each other, and then went home to their own families. Today the market draws crowds and has a stage, but walk out beyond the centre and you will still find small groups singing to each other beside the rocks.
Leaf pipes and the Hmong flute
Not every instrument has to be built. A forest leaf held correctly between the lips can be blown into a melody; the skill is widespread and some players are remarkable. The Hmong flute is played end-on, with a slightly rough, mournful tone that suits a misty afternoon on the plateau.
Ha Giang in modern song
Ha Giang has recently acquired a song of its own: Ha Giang oi by the songwriter Quach Beem, which appeared with the tourism boom of the late 2010s and is played in almost every roadside restaurant along Highway 4C. You will hear it many times on your trip, whether you want to or not.
When the festivals fall
The first lunar month brings Long Tong, the Tay going-down-to-the-fields festival, and the Hmong Gau Tao. The third lunar month brings the Khau Vai love market. Otherwise the music appears at weddings and funerals all year round — that is, at moments nobody can book in advance.
How to listen well
We do not stage “ethnic culture evenings” on request and we never pay anyone to sing one more song. If a village holds a ceremony, a festival or a wedding on the night your group is staying, we ask the host whether guests may attend, and sometimes the answer is no, which is entirely normal. If you are invited, ask before you film and do not push into the middle of the circle.
For the music of the Northwest — Thai xoe, khap singing, Muong gongs — we have a separate page.