Lung Cu Flag Tower

Fifty-four square meters of cloth.

That is the size of a flag flying on the summit of núi Rồng, Dragon Mountain, at the country's far northern tip. The number was not picked because it is round, and not because it looks good. Vietnam has 54 ethnic groups, and the flag on this summit was sewn at exactly 54 square meters, one square meter for each community.

Spread out on the ground, that flag would cover almost an entire classroom. Yet hoisted to the top of the pole, in the windy sky of the stone plateau, it does not look big at all. The wind here is so strong that the flag is always pulled taut. People standing below hear the cloth snapping and flapping before they even look up.

This is the Lũng Cú Flag Tower. It stands in a commune of the same name, in Tuyên Quang province. Many people still know this area as Hà Giang, and that is not wrong. It is simply the old name of a place that has since been reorganized. From the center of Đồng Văn, the tower is about 20 kilometers away. It is a short distance on the map, but it feels long. The road has to thread through steep slopes of upright, jagged rock, the kind people here call cat's ear stone.

The summit of Dragon Mountain is more than 1,400 meters above sea level. At that height the air is thinner and the sun is harsher. The clouds drift past at eye level instead of overhead.

To reach the foot of the tower, a climber must go up 283 stone steps in the open air.

That is 283 steps. Count them, and by step 100 the legs already feel heavy, with nearly two-thirds of the climb still ahead. Most climbers stop a few times along the way, and those very stops turn out to be the best part of the trip. At each one, looking back, the view grows a little wider. First come the rammed-earth houses of Hmong and Lô Lô villages, right at the foot of the mountain. Then the terraced fields, stacked layer upon layer along the slopes. Then two small lakes lying perfectly still on either side, flat as two pieces of mirror set in gray stone.

People in the area call the two lakes the Dragon's Eyes. The name comes from the name of the mountain. It also comes from a very natural way of seeing things, shared by people who have lived here for many years. If the mountain is a dragon lying down, then the two lakes on either side must be its eyes.

Geology tells a different story about the very same spot. The two lakes are really two ancient karst sinkholes, which are large hollows formed where limestone slowly dissolved. Neither is active any longer. Their floors are sealed by a layer of clay, which forms as limestone weathers, so the water gathers and cannot drain away. That is why, on a dry and thirsty plateau of stone, there are still two pools that never run dry.

Two ways of seeing, and neither one is wrong. One gives a name to remember, and the other gives a reason to understand. Someone who knows both, standing halfway up the steps, will remember the mountain more deeply.

And the rock underfoot is older still, almost beyond belief. The limestone of Dragon Mountain belongs to the Chang Pung formation, and it is more than 500 million years old. A full 500 million. The number is so large that it is almost impossible to picture. It reaches back to a time when not a single flower grew on land, and not a single tree stood up tall toward the sky. A hand laid on a rock face at Lũng Cú is touching something older than the forests.

The tower on that summit is octagonal, which means its shaft has eight sides. It was inaugurated on September 25, 2010. The shaft rises more than 20 meters. The flagpole reaches nearly 13 meters higher still. The outer diameter of the shaft is nearly 4 meters, wide enough to hold a staircase inside.

Around the shaft are eight images of bronze drums and eight reliefs carved in green stone. The reliefs are not there only for decoration. They tell the history of the country and the life of the highland peoples, carved as pictures so that anyone passing by can read them, even without knowing how to read. Walking once around the base of the tower means passing eight pictures in stone.

Inside the shaft, another 135 steps lead to the top. The spiral staircase in the heart of the tower is narrow and dark, with room for only one person at a time. At the end of those 135 steps, climbers come out onto the lookout platform. There, the whole border region opens up on all four sides at once.

At the foot of the tower stands a memorial house. Inside are displayed the work tools, the clothing and the crafts of the peoples of the region. Most visitors climb up and come back down quickly, passing this small house by. That is a pity, because it answers the question the whole climb has raised, the question of how people live in a land made almost entirely of stone. The plow, the embroidered skirt and the carrying basket behind the glass answer it more neatly than any sign.

The Lũng Cú Flag Tower was listed as a national heritage site on November 18, 2009, in the category of historic site and scenic landscape. The protected area also says a lot about how people see this place. The first protection zone covers the whole of Dragon Mountain. The second zone reaches further out to take in both Dragon's Eye lakes. In other words, the mountain, the tower and the pair of watery eyes are kept as a single whole, never to be separated.

There is one thing worth saving for the very end. After all 283 steps, once your breath has settled, look up at the flag.

Fifty-four square meters, 54 ethnic groups, one red cloth held taut by the wind above rock that is 500 million years old.

People come up to Lũng Cú once and remember it for a long time, and usually it is not the tower they remember. What stays is the feeling of standing at the country's far northern edge, hearing the cloth snap overhead.