Earning a Living in the Flood Season, Part 1: The Hamlet Waiting for the Mekong’s Waters

At 5 a.m., Trường Văn Hùng pulled in three nets he had cast at 2 a.m. on a newly flooded field near the border in Thường Lạc Ward, Đồng Tháp. After nearly three hours of waiting, he had caught just 12 small catfish, enough, he said, to cook with pepper for that day’s meal.

More than a decade ago, a similar night of fishing could fill an entire boat. Now every fish caught in Hùng’s nets matters. He remembers the flood levels from year to year, including seasons when water reached the floors of the stilt houses and residents had to raise their belongings and take their boats out to fish.

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This amount is enough to bring home and cook with pepper today.

This year, the field began filling only about a week ago, and the water remains far below levels seen at the same time in previous years. “These days the floodwaters rise slowly,” Hùng said. “Some years the water is so poor that the fields are left with only stubble.”

Unlike people elsewhere who fear floods, residents in the Mekong Delta have traditionally waited for the water. The floodwaters bring fish and shrimp, wash the fields and help flush acidity before the next rice crop. As the Mekong rises, rice fields become habitat for local fish and freshwater shrimp, while residents fish, trade and process their catch.

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These days the floodwaters rise slowly. Some years the water is so poor that the fields are left with only stubble. Unlike people elsewhere who fear floods, residents in the Mekong Delta wait for the water like they are waiting for a loved one.

Those high-posted stilt houses and boats were built around that seasonal rhythm. But the floods that once rose above the banks are increasingly becoming memories. Hùng recalled nights when fish thrashed beneath his house and a half-hour with a net could bring in kilograms of young linh fish. Now, he said, a full night may produce only about a dozen catfish.

About a kilometer away, Nguyễn Thị Điểm’s stilt house serves both as a coffee shop and a collection point for fish. People bring in their catch, buyers arrive, and women help clean the fish for extra market income. Điểm films each batch with her phone and sends the videos to customers in Cao Lãnh, Mỹ Tho and Ho Chi Minh City. “Wholesale selling is easier now,” she said. “I post a video, and if customers like what they see, they come to collect it or we deliver it.”

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Wholesale selling is easier now. I post a video, and if customers like what they see, they come to collect it or we deliver it.