"The stork's body" at the mouth of Lach Ken estuary...

Việt Nam•01/08/2023

As soon as the tide recedes, the Lach Ken estuary (bordering Cuong Gian commune in Nghi Xuan district and Thinh Loc commune in Loc Ha district, Ha Tinh province) bustles with people returning to collect clams and oysters. Under the scorching sun, their thin bodies bend under the weight of their labor, toiling like egrets and herons...

As soon as the tide recedes, the Lach Ken estuary (bordering Cuong Gian commune in Nghi Xuan district and Thinh Loc commune in Loc Ha district, Ha Tinh province) bustles with people coming to collect clams and oysters. Under the scorching sun, their thin bodies bend under the weight of their labor, toiling like egrets and herons...

From 6 a.m., the Lạch Kèn estuary is bustling with the calls of groups of people who make their living by raking for clams and oysters. As if by coincidence, when the tide recedes, they are all there, ready for their journey to earn a living and feed their children.

For decades, Lach Ken has been a source of livelihood for women in coastal areas of Nghi Xuan, Loc Ha, and Thach Ha districts. When their gardens and rice paddies could no longer provide a stable life, clam and oyster harvesting became their "lifeline."

Most of the clam gatherers in Lach Ken are women, and they have been involved in this work for decades.

With quick movements, after a few minutes of preparation, small groups fanned out in different directions; those gathering clams went down to the stream, while those harvesting oysters headed to rocky areas and sand dunes.

Wading into the waist-deep water, Ms. Nguyen Thi Ly (48 years old, residing in Thinh Loc commune, Loc Ha district) lowered her "tools" to the ground: a bamboo handle about 2 meters long, with a U-shaped steel blade attached to the end. The woman bent over, using all her strength to press the handle down, pushing the blade into the mud, and then walking backward. By doing this repeatedly, clams would get caught on the blade. Hearing the clams hit the steel blade, Ms. Ly bent down to pick them up and put them in her bag.

Ms. Ly shared: "The job of raking for clams usually follows the tide; we go whenever the tide recedes. In winter it's freezing cold, and in summer it's scorching hot, burning our skin. Sometimes we suffer from heatstroke and faint without realizing it. Many times I want to quit, but if I don't work, I don't know what will happen to my family of five."

For generations, Lach Ken has been blessed with a variety of natural resources, providing a livelihood for many people in the coastal area.

Among the group of clam gatherers, Mr. Nguyen Van Thang (59 years old, residing in Cuong Gian commune) is the only man. According to Mr. Thang, there used to be quite a lot of people in the profession, but the number gradually decreased because the work is arduous and the income is not much.

“Clam harvesting is often a gamble with luck. Some days you can earn 200,000-300,000 dong, but other days you spend the whole day wading through the water and only get a few tens of thousands of dong. This job is very hard; almost everyone suffers from back pain, joint pain, and skin diseases. It's hard work with low income, so when opportunities arise, many people quit and look for other jobs,” Mr. Thang confided.

Only by witnessing it firsthand can one truly understand the hardship and toil of clam gatherers. They have to immerse themselves in seawater for hours under the scorching sun, everyone getting soaked.

Their hands were covered in cuts from clams, and their feet were also cut from stepping on clam and mussel shells. Despite the hardship, they all persevered to make a living. Each time they went clamming, they worked quickly, because if they didn't, the tide would rise.

These are the lives of people who make a living by harvesting oysters in Lạch Kèn.

On the rocky shore where she harvests oysters, Mrs. Tran Thi Nhung (58 years old, residing in Loc Ha district) is striding along as if she's running. For nearly 20 years, this work has helped her earn extra money to support her life and pay for her three children's education.

Not far from where Mrs. Nhung was, Mrs. Vo Thi Mai (75 years old, residing in Song Nam village, Cuong Gian commune) was diligently prying open oysters on the sand. For nearly 40 years, she has clung to this profession. Her advanced age, coupled with the hot sun, makes her work even more arduous. In the middle of the vast Lach Ken lagoon, Mrs. Mai's figure is as small as a mushroom.

At the age of 75, Mrs. Mai still has to work harvesting oysters to earn money to support her family.

Each time she caught an oyster, she would smile. Her weathered, sun-tanned face would brighten. In that moment, she thought about how her family would have a more substantial and satisfying meal.

Ms. Mai shared: “For generations, Lach Ken has provided abundant resources, but to exploit those resources, we have had to sweat and shed tears. At this age, I should be surrounded by my children and grandchildren, but difficult circumstances force me to accept the job of harvesting oysters. If I don't go out to sea one day, my worries will only grow heavier. Therefore, I don't know when I will be able to rest.”

The small joys of those who make a living by harvesting oysters at the Lach Ken estuary.

The sun was high in the sky, the tide was rising, and everyone hurried ashore to return home. At the seaside, each person had their own circumstances, but they all shared the common burden of earning a living, the hardship and resilience they endured.

Each trip to gather clams and oysters is a journey to ignite the dream of a prosperous and fulfilling life. Tomorrow, when the tide recedes, a new life of earning a living at the estuary begins...

Text and photos: Ngoc Thang

Presentation & Technical: Huy Tung - Khoi Nguyen

2:01:08:20 23:09:14

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