Đăk Đrinh Lake lies in the northern reaches of Kon Tum, where the hills rise in slow, deliberate waves and the pace of life is set by the land. The Ca Dong ethnic communities remain here, maintaining their language, stilt houses, and routines that have shaped this corner of the highlands for generations.
Greenery surrounds the man-made lake.
I travelled here in May, during the Vietnam national holiday period, looking to escape the crowds elsewhere in the country. It was a time of transition into the wet season with greener hills, heavier air, and a chance to find some quiet among places where pleasures are simpler and days move more slowly.
The direct route round here will always be on the water.
In a town hanging in the hills along the lake's shoreline, one local homestay owner has taken it upon himself to build a small English-language school for children from surrounding hamlets. He funded it, stocked it, and continues to run it on his own — a quiet act of community care in a place where resources are limited and long daily walks to and from school are still common. Classes are held in town, with those staying at the homestay often volunteering their time to help teach basic English or contribute practical materials, bringing lessons to life in more informal and interactive ways.
The school, built carefully by hand, on the edge of town.
Around the lake, mornings begin with wooden boats cutting across the water, fishing nets thrown by hand. Fields on the slopes fill with families working through the heat in steady routines. Evenings settle slowly, with people taking to the lake to cool off, while thunder rumbles through the hills and fields begin to flicker with fireflies.
Children gather before an impromptu football where the photographer is happy to report that he lost, comfortably.
Have a look at more of the photos from the weekend below:
The owner of Đắk Đrinh Lodge in the school he built with his own hands.
Children of all ages are introduced to English
The best welcome to the village anyone could ask for.
Staggered rice paddies give way to the man-made lake.
Friendly locals always happy to greet new guests.
Late afternoon light settles on a stilt house veranda as the day begins to wind down.
An elder looks over the village while a dog lies close by.
Inside a house, the evening routine continues: cooking, sorting, and preparing for night.
An elderly woman sits quietly inside her stilt house while a child leans against her shoulder, a small moment of closeness framed by the interior of the home.
A stilt house set up for life here.
A stilt house amongst the golden rice fields, typical of the village.
A man sleeps in the open doorway of his stilt house.
Rounding up the local children before class starts.
A child practices the English alphabet during a community-run class, held in the village for children from surrounding hamlets.
Harvested fields are watched over by poncho scarecrows.
Distant agricultural fires burn long into the night.
A concrete road cuts through the hills, one of the few signs of recent change in an otherwise slow landscape.
Everything travels by boat here. To take the road is the long way round.
Banana trees at the lodge.
Houses dot the hillside, connected by a series of well-trodden pathways.
Đắk Đrinh Lake in full calm — mountains, cloud, and water holding the same color.
Late afternoon light settles over Đắk Đrinh Lake, where steep green hills fall quietly into the water below.
