A corner of Lao Kho village. Photo:Duong Dinh Tuong.

The Hmong people have established a cooperative to grow plums according to VietGAP standards, with an organic focus.

"Here, you can experience all four seasons in a single day: chilly mornings, scorching midday sun, cool afternoons, and freezing nights. The harsh climate and rocky soil make it seem impossible to live, yet it is the birthplace of a renowned fruit."Lao Kho plumsUnlike any other plums on the market, Lao Kho plums possess a subtly sweet, crisp, fragrant, and juicy flavor.

"Each plum is the culmination of the ideal altitude, the hot, dry Lao wind, the early season frost, and above all, the diligent, honest hands of the Hmong people who have lived for generations on these steep mountain slopes" - that's the beginning of the introduction printed in the leaflet of the Lao Kho Agricultural Cooperative, headed by Lờ Lao Chùa. Having heard much about this Hmong man from the commune officials, I decided to go find him.

His house is located on a mountaintop over 1,100 meters high overlooking Lao Kho village, where ice often accumulates on the roofs in winter, requiring him to use thick blankets at night year-round. His childhood was like that of many other Hmong boys of the 1980s generation: three meals a day of steamed cornmeal porridge poured into a basin, each person scooping a ladleful of porridge and a ladleful of water to prevent choking before heading to the fields.

When they planted rice, rats and birds would come and destroy it; when they planted corn, wild boars and squirrels would eat it. By harvest time, selling the produce wasn't enough to pay off the high-interest loans from the investors, so the debt kept growing each year. It wasn't until 2004, when Chua and his father planted 200 plum trees, that the family's life began to improve.

Mr. Lờ Lao Chùa inspects his plum orchard. Photo:Duong Dinh Tuong...

After getting married and moving out on his own, in 2012, Chua planted an additional 500 plum trees, equivalent to another 2 hectares. Thanks to the plum orchard, both of his children went to university, making him the most educated family in the village. Despite his thriving individual business, in 2019 he decided to establish a cooperative. “I heard about the importance of collective farming to build a brand and establish a guaranteed market, so I formed a cooperative with 9 members, which has remained unchanged ever since, with a total area of ​​12 hectares of plum trees.”

"The benefits of collective farming include using fewer pesticides, producing safer products, and achieving higher economic efficiency. Before, when we were still growing corn, some households in the village had their buffaloes and motorbikes confiscated by the investor as payment for debts. The investor even wanted to take their land, but the village management board refused," Mr. Chua recounted.

After saying that, he took me on his motorbike up the plum orchard along narrow, winding paths about two handspans wide, the only difference from before being that they had been paved with concrete. Finally, a vast garden appeared, stretching to the horizon, with its blossoms.plumThe branches are laden with fruit, the deep purple color standing out against the green canopy of leaves.

Nothing beats eating plums straight from the orchard. (Photo)Duong Dinh Tuong.

We weaved our way under the trees, picking the biggest, most purple plums we found and crunching them in our mouths. Lao Kho plums, when newly ripe, are firm, covered in a thick bloom, and quite sour and astringent, making them easy to transport, but they become sweet when fully ripe. To care for the plum trees, families who raise cattle have manure readily available to make organic fertilizer, while others buy animal manure to compost and use as a base fertilizer. Mr. Chua explained that pesticides must be sprayed three times a year: after harvest, during flowering preparation, and when the fruit first sets. All pesticides are applied with a two-month interval between harvest and harvest, and are not used at all.herbicideswhich uses a generator.

“The cooperative currently has 12 hectares of plum trees that met VietGAP standards in 2021. Three households are producing organically, including Mr. Trang Lao Ho, Mr. Trang Lao Ky, and myself. The cooperative's plum products have also recently been recognized as OCOP 3-star. In 2023, I harvested 18 tons of plums, selling them for 180 million VND, with a profit of 120 million VND after deducting expenses. In 2024, I harvested 13 tons, selling them for 240 million VND, with a profit of 170 million VND after deducting expenses.”

"This year I expect to harvest 18-20 tons, but the selling price will be lower, only about 10,000 VND/kg, the same as the price of conventionally produced plums because traders who come to buy don't ask if my plum orchard has VietGAP or OCOP certification," Mr. Chua lamented.

This is a particularly difficult area; within the 21 km border of Phiêng Khoài commune, Lao Khô accounts for more than 7 km. Yet, the temple has a TV, refrigerator, motorbike, pickup truck, and even a savings account with over 200 million dong.

Harvesting plums in Lao Kho village. Photo:Duong Dinh Tuong.

A profit of 100 million VND per year is minimal.

Following the pioneering plum planting by veteran Party member Trang Lao Lu, 27 other Party members in Lao Kho village have also started planting plums. According to Trang Lao Minh, the village head, the village has 137 households, all of whom are Mong ethnic people. Last year, 13 poor households were lifted out of poverty, leaving only 12. “I also escaped poverty three years ago thanks to planting late-season plums, earning 200 million dong annually with a profit of 100 million dong. But that's still a small amount compared to many households like Trang Lao Tra, who earn 800 million dong with a profit of 700 million dong; Du Lao Tinh, who earns 900 million dong with a profit of 800 million dong; Du Lao Phua, who earns 900 million dong with a profit of 800 million dong... or, on average, Trang Lao Nha, who earns 500 million dong with a profit of 400 million dong,” Mr. Minh boasted.

Fromplanting cornAs a result, they became heavily indebted to investors, even having their cattle confiscated, and then switched to growing plums. Now, about 30 households have surplus money that they can put into savings, something that was very unusual in this highland village just ten years ago, when people might not even taste meat for a whole month. Currently, 50% of the villagers have washing machines and refrigerators, and nearly 10% have bought cars. Trang Lao Tra and his wife recently drove their new car, worth over 600 million dong, much to the admiration of their neighbors.

That's understandable. While the villagers were busy listening to flutes and watching dances at the stadium during Tet, they were already up in the fields watering their plum trees, only returning home when they couldn't count their fingers anymore. It took them 4-5 days to water 800 plum trees, and they didn't even realize Tet had passed. They were still grieving.manureThey use it as a base fertilizer, nourishing both the trees and the soil. The couple's figures are always seen lurking on the hillside. Because of this, their plums are both large and beautiful, attracting traders who compete to buy them, fetching a price 5,000-10,000 VND/kg higher than ordinary plums.

A close-up of a Lao Kho plum. Photo:Duong Dinh Tuong.

While Tra and his wife worked diligently to get rich, LS and his wife only thought about making money without breaking a sweat. Recently, they were caught red-handed by the police while transporting drugs, leaving behind a 300-tree plum orchard left unattended. The "fruit" that LS and his wife are reaping today is the "seed" they had been warned about by the village management board and elders, but they still went ahead and did it anyway.

The story goes that a few years ago, the police dismantled a drug trafficking ring, and someone confessed to the couple, but due to insufficient evidence, they remained at large. Upon hearing this, the village management committee and elders urged them: “Since the police are paying attention, you must do something that the law doesn’t prohibit. Don’t neglect the plum tree you’ve planted; it won’t bear fruit.” But the couple were blinded by the easy money, and as a result, they were caught red-handed by the police last May.

They went to prison, leaving behind a withered, barren plum orchard. The village management and the elders came to persuade their three children. “Since your parents have gone down that bad path, don’t follow it anymore…” Lờ Lao Chùa said, his voice faltering. As I descended the slope past his house, he kept waving and saying, “Mù chế tua.” Go and come back, okay?(To be continued).