‘Business is not good’: Vietnam’s floating markets dwindle as economy soars

Can Tho, Vietnam – As dawn breaks over Can Tho, the city’s river is filled with the roaring engines of tour boats.

As the Cai Rang Floating Market is visible, traditional wooden houseboats emerge through the misty light.

With a history dating back to the early 20th century, Cai Rang and other markets like it were once among southern Vietnam’s most well-known cultural icons.

Prior to the construction of roads and bridges, the delta region’s numerous waterways served as the main means of transportation and trade, which resulted in the creation of floating markets where channels converged.

But over the last two decades, the markets have dwindled in size in tandem with Vietnam’s rapid economic development – first gradually, then suddenly – and only two of the region’s 10 major markets retain any significant presence.

“When I first visited]Cai Rang] market in 2011, it was much larger”, Linh, a local guide, told Al Jazeera.

“Now it’s about a third of that size,” said Linh, who ran daily market tours up until a few years ago.

Today, Cai Rang comprises about 200 vessels, fewer than half as many as during its peak in the 1990s.

The nearby Phong Dien market has become largely unrecognizable and has seen fewer than a dozen boat closures.

Cai Be, a once-thriving market in neighbouring Ben Tre province, is among those that have vanished completely, closing for good in 2021.

Historically the biggest of the delta’s markets, Cai Rang still resembles a decent-sized assembly of boats – at least from afar.

On closer inspection, the market looks more sparse. Nowadays, tour boats make up a significant portion of the traffic on the water.

Still, the market functions much as it always has, as sampans are loaded up with produce from larger “wholesalers”, which is then brought back to markets on land.

For many sellers, the boats double as homes.

The boat dwellers can often be found relaxing in hammocks, washing dishes with river water, cooking meals on small stoves, and taking care of their pets, often with dogs in tow.

Yet behind the photogenic charm, anxieties linger.

“Business is not good”, Phuc, who works at the market selling pineapples to tourists, told Al Jazeera.

Sometimes she sells just 10 pineapples a day at 20, 000 Vietnamese dong ($0.78) each.

Making enough money only during the high season is a possibility. The rest of the time, we are barely surviving”.

Up until recently, Phuc and her husband were a yams wholesaler.

They had been restocking their boat every week for the past 25 years, but it took them several days to get there and back.

But as road infrastructure has improved in the last decade, land-based trade has become faster and more cost-effective, supplanting the need for river-based commerce.

“The only people who continue to work here are those who can’t afford to buy a van or a big car]to deliver produce]”, her husband, Thanh, told Al Jazeera.

Tuyen, who works as a wholesaler selling onions, garlic and sweet potatoes, is also downbeat.

“Ten years ago, I used to earn good money doing this, but now it’s just enough to get by”, she told Al Jazeera, while preparing a breakfast of fish soup on her boat. “Everything is more challenging now,” he said.

Tuyen said the COVID-19 pandemic was a turning point, after which many sellers, unable to make ends meet, switched to working on land.

When asked why she didn’t participate, she cited the $55 million Vietnamese Dong ($195) rental fees associated with a market spot.

On the boat, she has no rent to pay.

“I’d prefer to stay on land – it’s more comfortable and convenient – but I don’t have the money”, she said.

Although improved roads are frequently cited as the cause of the market decline, other factors are at play.

As a result of the pandemic, many smaller markets struggled to recover from temporary closures as land-based markets were shifted due to health and safety regulations.

Poor planning has further exacerbated the situation.

Authorities have recently constructed flood prevention walls along the banks of one of the country’s numerous waterways in response to the annual flooding of the Mekong Delta.

Although the presence of piers has impeded river-based trade, these walls have helped to reduce flooding and erosion.

The future of the floating market is also a clouded by wider cultural shifts.

As Vietnam modernises, younger generations are turning their backs on their parents ‘ trade, seeking better education and career opportunities.

“My daughter doesn’t want to work here”, Phuc said. She favors to invest in stocks and work on her own terms for a company. She’s not like us – she doesn’t like this life”.

The typical resident of the nearby city of Can Tho may be concerned about Cai Rang’s future, but the average person seems to have little to lose from this.

There is no reason to travel to Cai Rang when most people do their shopping in supermarkets and malls these days.

“For me, it’s nothing special”, a hotel receptionist, who has visited the market only once, told Al Jazeera, asking not to be named.

Cai Rang Floating Market, the main attraction, contributes to the city’s economy by about 6%, despite this fact.

In 2017, the city welcomed 7.5 million tourists, according to official figures.

Arrivals in 2023 reached 5.9 million after almost nothing during the pandemic, but they are still significantly below their peak.

According to Son Ca Huynh, who runs a tour company in Can Tho, the effects of the pandemic and a smaller number of flights from other parts of Vietnam account for a large portion of this.

Tourism’s efforts are likely to become even more difficult if the floating market shuts down.

Huynh, who is branching out into cooking classes and off-the-beaten-track canal boat tours, said efforts to preserve the market could focus on its appeal to tourists, citing the floating markets of Bangkok as an example, rather than its commercial function.

“At the Bangkok markets, they sell many different things”, Huynh told Al Jazeera. “Here, we sell mostly fruit and vegetables”.

She said that in order to encourage traders to stay, the government would need to build new piers to offload goods and support them in raising their earnings, something she said is unlikely given the cost involved.

In any case, Huynh said, the market would lose its authenticity and its cultural value.

“In my mind, it would not be the same”, she said.

By 8am, the day’s trade has ended at Cai Rang.

The sun has risen high above the palm-lined riverbanks, and vendors are relaxing on their houseboats. However, the tour guide Linh doubts the viability of Cai Rang and anticipates its closure in the coming years.

Source: Aljazeera