Tet (Lunar New Year) on precarious boats

(Baonghean.vn) - The Lunar New Year is fast approaching, but the atmosphere in the floating village remains bleak and gloomy. Their simple wish to celebrate a warm and prosperous New Year after a year of wandering on the river is also fluctuating, just like their own lives…

Lives of ups and downs

In the biting cold of the year-end days, we made our way to the floating village at the foot of the Ro Bridge (Vo Liet commune, Thanh Chuong district, Nghe An province). About 20 dilapidated boats huddled together, silent in the thick fog. Waking up early in the morning, Mr. Nguyen Ngoc Tung hastily put on his worn-out warm coat and stood on the bank, gazing thoughtfully towards the riverbank. He is a true boat dweller; for generations, his family has used boats as homes and the Lam River as their livelihood. He recounted that during the war against the Americans, the floating village gained more residents when several boats belonging to transport workers came to live there. After the war ended, they stayed, choosing this riverbank as their anchor point. Thus, old and new residents intertwined and have lived there in large numbers until now.

The floating village of Cau Ro is deserted at the end of the year.

Mr. and Mrs. Tung and their young grandchild only wish for a more fulfilling Lunar New Year celebration.



As Tet (Lunar New Year) approaches, Nguyen Thi Tiet's family is still struggling to make ends meet.

Like many people in the floating village, Mr. Tung doesn't remember his exact birth date, but he says that even as he nears the end of his life, poverty and hunger still cling relentlessly. When asked why he and the other villagers don't abandon their boats and find work to change their precarious lives, he smiled sadly and said: "In my youth, I used to work as a boat builder on land, but in 1992, the cooperative dissolved, and I became unemployed. Without qualifications and with limited skills, drifting on the river, relying on the 'generosity' of the Lam River, has become my lifelong occupation." Mr. Tung no longer remembers how many times he had to patch up his old, dilapidated boat to make a living and support his family of five. Fortunately, towards the end of his turbulent life, he, his wife, and their orphaned grandchild were able to live in a new boat that their children saved up to buy for them.

“My life has been hard enough, but what I feel most sorry for is my grandchild, who is just over 3 years old. A few days after she was born, her mother left because of our extreme poverty. Then, when she was 2, her father went to the South to work, and since then, I haven't heard from him. I'm old now, and I'm worried that when I die, there will be no one to care for and raise her?!” Mr. Tung recounted, his voice choked with emotion.

In this impoverished fishing village, the plight of Mr. Tung's family is not uncommon. His next-door neighbor is the family of Mr. Nguyen Dinh Viet. When we visited, his family was busy transferring the gravel they had just dredged from the riverbed to the shore. Seeing the camera flash, Mr. Viet looked worried and explained: "My family does this job out of necessity. We work year after year, month after month, and still don't earn enough to live on, but we have to take the risk for the sake of our children." In our conversation, Mr. Viet humorously recounted that, after more than 20 years living in this fishing village, his family is considered "richer" than the surrounding families because… they have many children. He and his wife have five children, including their eldest daughter who recently got married and moved out, and is considered relatively well-off. His two sons, who dropped out of school, are now working as construction laborers in Vinh. Of the seven family members, only the fourth child, considered the most educated, is in high school and has to attend school in the mornings and work alongside his parents in the afternoons.

“This job is only available for six months of the year; the rest of the time, when the floods come, we just sit around doing nothing. Our family's monthly income is about 1.5 million VND, and all our living expenses depend on that. Sand and gravel are becoming increasingly scarce, and living off the river is becoming more and more dangerous, while prices only keep rising, so life is incredibly difficult!” Mr. Viet shared.

The entire village was unusually quiet on the last days of the year. Up above, to the right of the Rộ bridge, convoys of buses carried migrant workers returning home to reunite with their families after a year of hard work. Not far away, the villagers sat huddled together, sadly dreaming of the day they could be on land, dreaming of a Tet holiday without the hardships of being adrift…

Tet is still a long way off…

When we asked about preparations for Tet (Lunar New Year), Mr. Tung waved his hand dismissively: “I haven’t prepared anything. And what is there to prepare anyway! The people living on the boats are poor, and Tet only adds to our worries. I’ve never had a proper Tet celebration in my life!” The 77-year-old man added: “Our Tet is very simple! If we have money, we go ashore to buy a few kilograms of meat and some sweets to make a feast. Some of our children, if they can afford it, give us a sticky rice cake, others give us a packet of candy to place on the ancestral altar. We just go from boat to boat, and before we know it, Tet is over.” While talking to us, looking at his young grandson shivering from the cold in his worn-out jacket, Mr. Tung wished: “This year, if I receive government assistance, I’ll save up a little money to buy a new jacket for my grandson. He’s been wearing his older siblings’ hand-me-downs all year.”



Mr. Nguyen Dinh Viet struggles with sand and gravel in the biting cold.

It wasn't just Mr. Tung; every resident of the fishing village at the foot of the Ro Bridge could only manage to have a simple Tet celebration like this. We followed the old wooden planks of the bridge, bobbing on the water with each step, to reach the boat of Ms. Nguyen Thi Tiet's family. Tet was approaching, but her family had only managed to buy a row of fairy lights, which she said were "just to create... atmosphere!" While we were talking, Mr. Nguyen Van Duong (her husband) returned from casting his nets. Looking at the basket of fish with only a few meager catches, he shook his head in dismay: "For the past two months, it's been like this every day. We can't even earn enough to eat two meals a day." Ms. Tiet's entire family are fishermen; all their expenses depend on the catch. Since the Lam River is no longer as generous as before, their family's finances have deteriorated significantly. Their children's education has also been cut short as a result. "My eldest child finished 9th grade and then went to work. Now she's a garment factory worker in Binh Duong, sending over 500,000 VND home to the family every month. With her business doing so well, we'll probably have to wait for her to come home before we have any money for Tet (Lunar New Year) preparations."

The floating village of Cau Ro has about 20 boats moored close together, all relying on precarious fishing and struggling economically. This means that this Tet (Lunar New Year), 20 families with nearly 100 people will continue to face a Tet filled with hardship and deprivation. The vast and boundless Lam River now seems to have lost its capacity for compassion towards the people of this floating village. The new year has begun, but will their hardships and difficulties ever end…?

Pham Bang - Thanh Duy