Her fear is not hers alone. For six years, all 64 households in this remote village have lived in constant anxiety, awaiting relocation.
Fear in the rain
We visited Pa Xa Xá in late May, a small village nestled against a mountain slope in the heart of Pa Thơm commune. The sun had just peeked out after a night of torrential rain. The earth was still soggy, the narrow concrete path winding to the house of 65-year-old Quàng Thị Săn slick with mud.
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Her home clings to the foot of a sheer rock face, its back to the mountain and front to the valley. Two backpacks filled with essentials hang ready on a house beam, a permanent state of readiness for an escape if the mountain rumbles.
“During rainy season, every household braces themselves”, said Săn. “The moment we hear anything unusual, we grab the kids and essentials and flee to the school or border post for shelter.”
She led us to the back of her house and pointed to a boulder roughly the size of two people’s embrace. “Landslides haunt us all,” she shared. “A few years ago, during the rainy season, rocks constantly tumbled down the slope, turning our lives upside down. Ever since, heavy rains bring nothing but dread.”
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In July 2018, at the height of the rainy season, Pa Xa Xá endured several days of relentless rain. Around 1 a.m. one night, while the village slept, a massive boulder suddenly broke away from the mountainside, crashing straight into the village. It smashed one of the support columns under Săn’s stilt house before plowing into her newly built bathroom and toilet, stopping only after significant destruction.
No one was injured, but the village was thrown into chaos. “We were asleep when we heard a huge crash to the right,” recounted Săn. “My husband grabbed a flashlight and saw the rock had destroyed the bathroom. I yelled for everyone to get out and rushed to alert neighbors to evacuate to the school and the Pa Thơm border post. It was still pouring outside.”
The next morning, as the rain eased and the mountains showed no further signs of collapse, villagers cautiously returned to their homes. But around midday, disaster struck again. Another massive boulder broke free and slammed into Quàng Thị Choi’s house, completely demolishing it.
Choi had been in the kitchen at the time. Miraculously, the rock missed her. Shaken, she recalled: “I was cooking when I heard a deafening crash, the whole house caved in. I only suffered minor injuries. It wasn’t until neighbors pulled me from the wreckage that I realized a rock had hit the house.”
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Immediately afterward, local authorities arranged for Choi to take temporary refuge with relatives. With help from the community and local officials, a makeshift house was erected two days later in a safer location.
Following the incidents, the commune’s government and military units raced to implement safety measures, earthen barriers were built and bamboo planted to block falling rocks. Every year, the local disaster response and search and rescue committee inspects the area and updates prevention plans. Yet fear still looms in Pa Xa Xá, where residents remain in the danger zone and spend every rainy night with one ear tuned to the mountains.
“I just want to be moved somewhere safer so I can live and work in peace”, stressed Choi. “Every time it rains, I worry a rock might come crashing down again.”
A dream of a peaceful home
Roughly one kilometer from Pa Xa Xá, a resettlement site is under construction. Spanning 4.9 hectares, the site is being developed with essential infrastructure, including roads, access to the national power grid, clean water, and a community center, all designed to offer residents a stable, long-term home.
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At the construction site, progress is visible. Concrete roads have been poured, and electrical and water systems are being installed. The remaining work is being fast-tracked so that the site can be handed over soon.
Still, the pace of development lags behind the villagers’ hopes. Each day that passes, Pa Xa Xá residents wait anxiously to be relocated. Many households have proactively made all necessary preparations to be ready to relocate as soon as the land is handed over.
Under the floor of her stilt house, Săn has carefully stacked wood of various sizes. “We’ve been preparing since the rockslide in 2018,” she explained, opening a shed filled with handwoven thatch panels. “We brought wood down from our forest plot and gathered thatch during the season. Everything is ready, we just need the land so we can finally move and live in peace.”
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Unlike other families, Choi lives alone and hasn’t been able to gather enough materials to build a new home. But she is emotionally and mentally prepared. “I don’t need a big house”, she said. “Just solid ground and a sturdy roof where I can sleep peacefully without fear every time it rains.”
According to Cà Văn Tranh, Chairman of the Pa Thơm commune People’s Committee, “We’re expediting construction of the resettlement area. The investor and contractor aim to complete and hand over the site by 2025. The commune is closely coordinating and providing support to speed up the process and help residents settle into their new, safer homes.”
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As dusk fell over the mountains and gray storm clouds rolled in, signaling another downpour, we left Pa Xa Xá. Behind us, villagers rushed to prepare for the incoming storm, and for the longer rainy season ahead.
The summer of 2025 may still find Pa Xa Xá’s residents running from landslides. But they wait, uneasily, hopefully, for a future where homes are safe, and the earth behind them no longer threatens to give way.
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