Environment - Saigoneer

WWF-Laos’ Efforts to Preserve Unique Ecosystems and Traditional Ways of Life in the 4,000 Islands

2024-01-30T09:06:00+07:00

As it flows down through Laos towards the border with Cambodia, the Mekong River frays and unspools into separate threads of current that weave around islands and rocky outcroppings and tumble over Asia’s largest waterfall (Khone Falls) before continuing the long journey into Vietnam and then the eventual ocean.

The ancient tectonic forces that formed the Indochine peninsula’s jagged mountains and vast fields created this riverine archipelago in southwest Laos. Fittingly translated to “4,000 islands,” Siphandone is a unique landscape rich with sediment and naturally protective barriers that have allowed a wide variety of species to flourish in the waters and surrounding forests while supporting human settlements.

Flooded and lowland forests, deep pools, rapids, river channels and seasonally submerged islands have made Siphandone a biodiversity treasure trove. According to local communities, otters, northern pig-tailed macaque, freshwater stingray, Asian giant softshell turtle and green peafowl are among the hundreds of fish, reptiles, birds and mammals found in the area. Moreover, the nutrients deposited by routine floods have attracted permanent communities that engage in semi-subsistence agriculture and fishing while maintaining traditional lifestyles and cultures.

Photos by Emanuela Colombo / WWF-Laos.

Unfortunately, climate change coupled with population growth, ill-planned socio-economic development and irresponsible consumption threaten the area’s biodiversity as well as local livelihoods dependent on it. Overfishing, illegal fishing, large-scale deforestation and industrial projects up and down river, as well as human-induced changes to the natural flood cycles, have resulted in a significant loss of biodiversity. This has acute impacts on the approx. 100,000 local inhabitants whose well-being depends directly on the environment. Looming ecological degradation places them at risk for worsening poverty and an increased necessity of migration, which would result in the abandonment of cultural values and traditions.

Photo by Emanuela Colombo / WWF-Laos.

However, this ecological degradation is not inevitable in Siphandone. World Wide Fund for Nature in Laos (WWF-Laos) has long been partnering with The Department of Livestock and Fisheries (DLF) in the region and is implementing the Climate Resilient by Nature - Mekong Project (CRxN Mekong) to combat the effects of climate change while helping restore and rehabilitate fisheries and forests and improve local livelihoods via poverty reduction initiatives, nature-based solutions (NbS) and environment-based adaptations (EbA). To implement the project, the WWF-Laos team, in coordination with local authorities, identified six climate-vulnerable and natural resources-dependent villages in Siphandone to support.

Where there are Fish and Forests there is Hope

“Fish have declined because many use illegal and unsustainable means to fish; for example bombs or electricity. The increase in population has meant that there is more demand for fish and so the Mekong is emptying, ” explained one Siphandone resident. Another local added that because of climate change, “the water level of the Mekong rises and falls suddenly without following the seasons and this creates problems to the fish in the river and to the inhabitants of the villages located on the river banks.”

Photos by Emanuela Colombo / WWF-Laos.

Because the health of native fish populations along with their habitats are amongst the most identifiable and addressable issues in the area, WWF-Laos is supporting ongoing efforts with the DLF under the Ministry of Agriculture and Forestry since 2012 to effectively implement fisheries co-management projects in Laos. WWF-Laos has supported over 300 Fish Conservation Zones (FCZ) across the country, 64 of which are in Siphandone and cover more than 516 ha. of freshwater habitat. 18 patrol teams consisting of eight community members each regularly travel throughout the area monitoring 4,612 hectares of river for illegal activity and collecting data on the health of the fisheries that is critical for future planning and the development of sustainable solutions. WWF-Laos provides the team with the necessary equipment as well as training that enables them to cooperate with authorities that can enforce the fisheries laws of Laos. It's still early, but in Siphondone small increases in per-hour fishcatch in the area point to the stabilization and potential increase from 0.47 kg in 2018 to 1.47/hour in 2022.

“If we have the forests, we will have cool weather, tranquility, and be able to store water for a long time, as well as bring shelter for animals and a source of food for the villagers. An alternative to just fishing is considered to reduce the burden of finding fish because the forest has a lot of food that can be sourced sustainably, such as mushrooms, vegetables, bamboo shoots, and more. The community knows best, so they help to select plant species that best suit the area, including household fruit trees and local plants,” explained Chieng Kham, the deputy of the village chief of Donxom village in Siphandone.

To ensure the forests remain healthy for wildlife and humans, WWF-Laos supported the establishment of community-created forest management protection regulations for 89 ha of forest. Village members then collaborated to plant 7,864 indigenous plants and fruit trees, filling 21.44 ha of forest and riverbank. Local groups routinely patrol the area to look for and report threats to the forest and biodiversity while monitoring the growth of new trees. The reforestation helps rejuvenate and protect wildlife habitats and non-timber forest products while combating erosion along the river.

Photos by Emanuela Colombo / WWF-Laos.

Empowering the Community to Protect Nature

In addition to the support of local authorities, education and awareness efforts are a crucial element of the far-reaching preservation plans. Individuals need to be enabled and empowered to enact ways to restore and protect the land and water. Participatory workshops covering broad themes such as defining EbA and NbS resulted in specific actionable plans drafted by community members with the support of the WWF-Laos team. Explaining the need for the efforts involved asking the communities to simply assess the changing state of the rivers they’ve grown up beside and imagine the future for their loved ones. Conservation is thus understood as a matter of ensuring that cherished ways of life and livelihoods can continue for generations as part of a sustainable future.

To effectively preserve the ecosystem there must be economic incentives and disincentives to mitigate illegal fishing, deforestation and other environmentally damaging practices alongside encouragement for community members to remain in the area. The Village Development Fund for Conservation (VDFC) distributes loans to individuals to support activities and business transition to more sustainable agricultural practices. To ensure the funds are used effectively, WWF-Laos, partnered with local civil society organization Lao Micro-Finance Association (LMFA) to provide equipment and training on financial literacy, business development, management, governance and auditing of the funds. The funds and training empower Siphandone residents to adopt diversified, climate-resilient, and ecologically-compatible livelihood activities as sources of food and income such as raising pigs, chickens, ducks, buffaloes and cows; cultivating vegetables and farming mushrooms. Interest returned on the loans goes to supporting the patrolling of FCZ and to growing the funds, thus creating a sustainable model.

Photos by Emanuela Colombo / WWF-Laos.

Success for the CRxN Mekong Project requires close community involvement. Siphandone residents are not only required to act as stewards of the forests and waters, but their knowledge of the area and lifestyles is essential for creating and implementing EbA practices such as agroforestry and more sustainable traditional fishing practices. For example, local villagers know best which tree species to select for forest restoration and which fish are most suitable for dried and fermented fish products. Similarly, WWF-Laos recognizes the need to incorporate local beliefs and customs into regulations and engagement with communities and has involved local temples and monks in decision-making.

The CRxN Mekong Project in Laos prioritizes the support of frequently marginalized groups such as women, young people, ethnic minority groups and individuals with disabilities. Women, in particular, have a large role to play in the management of natural resources and community development as evidenced by the fact that of the 2,351 total program participants across six villages, 1,458 are women and the Laos Women’s Union (LWU) has a leadership role in each of the six FCZ management committees. Meanwhile, 41 women have a leading role in VDFC management.

Photo by Emanuela Colombo / WWF-Laos.

Siphandone’s stunning web of water rushing around stark rocks surrounded by lush forests may be one-of-a-kind, but the problems it faces are sadly shared with environments across Southeast Asia and beyond. Many of the solutions explored in Siphandone can thankfully be applied all along the Mekong River’s shores as well as in its expansive delta. The ongoing success of the CRxN Mekong Project in Laos can thus offer a blueprint and hope for the region as a whole.

Climate Resilient by Nature (CRxN) is an Australian Government initiative, in partnership with WWF-Australia, advancing high-integrity, equitable nature-based solutions to climate change in the Indo-Pacific. Funding for this project in Laos is provided by the Mekong Australia Partnership – Water, Energy and Climate.

[Top photo by Emanuela Colombo / WWF-Laos]

On the 12th Day of Christmas Saigoneer Gave to Me: 12 Birdcalls From Across Vietnam

2023-12-23T13:00:00+07:00

Almost everywhere we go in the world, birdsong abounds.

The little titters and tweets of sparrows gathering over handfuls of tossed rice on Hanoi street corners. The deep, thrumming coo of doves as they wander about with their blank faces and relatively empty heads. The grumpy squawk of gulls stealing French fries or the inscrutable clicks and caws of crows. But how many bird songs could you actually identify?

There are more than 11,000 species of bird in the world, each with their own distinct cries of alarm, of romance, and of community. When you add in regional dialects — yes, birds have those — it is a world of languages nearly double that of us humans. To step into a forest in Vietnam is to enter a public square, and hear those languages spoken. Some seem to match the character of the bird perfectly, like the little chips and whistles that erupt from the charismatic Strawberry Finch. Others will sound entirely alien, like the almost simian howl of the Temminck’s Tragopan.

For this month celebrating sounds at Saigoneer, I’ve put together a little audio safari of some of my favorite birds in the country. We’ll travel from north to south, starting just short of the Chinese border and finishing up in the dry dipterocarp forests of southern Vietnam.

1. Temminck’s Tragopan / Gà lôi tía

Tragopan temminckii

Audio from Chubzang via Xeno-Canto.

Cryptic, secretive and remarkably difficult to photograph. This bizarre-looking pheasant ranges primarily through the highlands of China and India, though they maintain a small outpost in northern Vietnam. I shot this one on the slopes of Fansipan, where it foraged and let out its great gibbon-sounding calls into the mist.

2. Black-streaked Scimitar Babbler / Hoạ mi đất họng trắng

Erythrogenys gravivox

Audio from Ray Tsu 诸仁 via Xeno-Canto.

Keeping things weird a little farther south in Mù Cang Chải is this curve-billed air-goblin, which I shot perched amongst some ripening táo mèo. With an unexpectedly cute call, this Scimitar Babbler sounds like a pair of frogs that really want to make friends.

3. Red Avadavat / Mai hoa

Amandava amandava

Audio from He Wenjin/ 文进 via Xeno-Canto.

Sticking in Mù Cang Chải for a moment longer, we find the Red Avadavat, also known as the Strawberry Finch — a superior if less popular name. These gregarious seed-eating birds love farmland, which is why almost any recording of their happy squeaks will include farm sounds in the background.

4. Mandarin Duck / Uyên ương

Aix galericulata

Audio from Stanislas Wroza via Xeno-Canto.

Jumping over to the east before we head farther south, these spectacular ducks appear every winter in Ba Bể Lake — don’t look now, but they’re about to arrive again. Given that they are not your average duck, it should be no surprise that they don’t say “quack.” Their hoarse, high yapping sound is a call of alarm, which is why you will usually hear it fading into the distance as they leave your peeping ass behind.

5. Rufous-gorgeted Flycatcher / Đớp ruồi họng hung

Ficedula strophiata

Audio from Geoff Carey via Xeno-Canto.

Down out of the highlands and into Hanoi, where the parks and riverbanks can be a stopover for some surprising species. That includes this Rufous-gorgeted Flycatcher, a lover of high-altitude forests who showed up in the botanical gardens some years back. Its call is a high, insistent, adorable little peep.

6. Dark-necked Tailorbird / Chích bông cổ sẫm

Orthotomus atrogularis

Audio from Sam Hambly via Xeno-Canto.

Time to leave the north behind for Hà Tĩnh Province, where I shot this fancy boy. It isn't the most beautiful of birds, but the Tailorbird is quite amazing — it will pierce the edges of leaves and literally sew them together with threads of plant fiber or stolen spider’s silk to make it nest. Bonus: its call sounds like a recording of a xylophone played poorly, at 2.5x speed.

7. Crimson Sunbird / Hút mật đỏ

Aethopyga siparaja

Audio from Bram Piot via Xeno-Canto.

Beautiful and quite common, I shot this sunbird in Quảng Bình. There are actually 146 different species in the sunbird family, and their calls can be hard to distinguish. It sounds, more or less, like “tweet, tweet, tweet.” Rather boring. But he makes up for it with his looks.

8. Stripe-throated Bulbul / Bông lau họng vạch

Pycnonotus finlaysoni

Audio from Brian Cox via Xeno-Canto.

The bulbuls represent another big extended bird family — 166 species, all told — but once again I’ve picked one of the prettier ones. I shot this Stripe-throated Bulbul in Bạch Mã National Park, right in the center of Vietnam. His lilting call sounds like an Italian making an argument out of an open window.

9. Red-tailed Laughingthrush / Khướu đuôi đỏ

Trochalopteron milnei

Audio via Xeno-Canto.

Heading southwest towards the Laotian border, you will arrive at the Ngọc Linh Nature Reserve. Permission from local authorities is required to enter, but if you can get that, you have a chance to see one of the most stunning birds in the world — the Red-tailed Laughingthrush. Their call is as ostentations of their plumage — imagine a siren, followed by an insane laugh. A giddy arsonist, running from the police.

10. Rufous-Faced Warbler / Chích đớp ruồi mặt hung

Audio from Ray Tsu via Xeno-Canto.

The ambivert of the bird world. The Rufous-Faced Warbler is often difficult to see and can be identified by their cricket-sounding calls rather than by sight. But at the same time, they love the company of other species, traveling in mixed feeding flocks. Which is why you’ll hear so much social commotion in the audio here. I shot this shy party-boy in Măng Đen.

11. Banded Kingfisher / Sả vằn

Lacedo pulchella

Audio by Joshua Chong via Xeno-Canto.

A big leap south now to Đồng Nai Province, where I shot this lovely Banded Kingfisher just outside of Cát Tiên National Park. Here he is about to deliver a juicy caterpillar to his babies — a good dad, this kingfisher. Their calls aren’t the typical cackling laugh of their relatives, but a mournful trill that descends into the forest like bittersweet song.

12. Green Peafowl / Công lục

Pavo muticus

Audio by Marc Anderson via Xeno-Canto.

For our final bird, we step into Cát Tiên National Park and find Vietnam’s answer to the peacock — the Green Peafowl. Males of this species look like shimmering dragons when they fly. Females may lack the long tail but they keep those stunning green feathers. And their call is one of the most amazing things about them — a trumpeting hoot that can carry far across the forest. There is a questioning quality to it. “Where are you?” they seem to say.

In a forest filled with languages, all the birds can answer back. Here we are. Right here.

Floating Rice, Lục Bình Baskets and Dried Fish: How WWF-Viet Nam is Helping Save the Mekong Delta

2023-12-11T15:52:00+07:00

For much of the country, the word flood conjures images of cataclysmic destruction and death. But in the Mekong Delta, it means life.

The regular flood cycle in the Mekong Delta supplies nutrients that nourish lush fields and waters teeming with fish. These bountiful harvests have earned the region its rightful distinction as Vietnam’s “rice basket.” But climate change in general and unsustainable land and water management in particular, is upending the flood cycle and threatening the health of the water and soil, and by extension, the entire region’s future.

The Mekong Delta is famed for being able to support three rice harvests per year, but the third one which occurs during the natural flood season, brings with it a range of problems. To grow rice during this time, farmers construct dikes and rely on large amounts of pesticides and fertilizers. These chemicals leach into the environment, polluting waterways and poisoning native fish populations while the entire exhaustive process leaches nutrients out of the soil without allowing it time to replenish. While this system has been in place and expanding for decades, it will cause the rice fields to continue to decline in fertility and become non-productive, as well as prevent them from playing a valuable role in storing floodwater that would cause problems downstream.

Thankfully, there is hope. By transitioning the third rice crop to nature-based farming, and allowing river water to flood the fields in the wet season, sediment will naturally accumulate, improving soil quality and height and helping to prevent “shrinking and sinking.” Saigoneer ventured to two communes in Long An Province this fall to learn about nature-based solutions that underpin this restoration and protection while supporting local communities via economic opportunities. Simply, WWF-Viet Nam (World Wide Fund for Nature in Viet Nam) has introduced a program to empower farmers to grow an ancient variety of floating rice and farm fish in fields otherwise used for conventional rice harvesting while also providing access to financing to support responsible economic activities. The Climate Resilient by Nature - Mekong Project (CRxN Mekong) reveals how a more sustainable future is possible for the region.

But what does such an ambitious plan look like in practice? Truthfully, our visits to Vĩnh Đại and Thạnh Hưng Communes in Long An were filled with all the familiar sights that make the Mekong Delta so easy to fall in love with. Strikingly green rice fields expanded toward tree-lined horizons; fish flourished in swaths of fenced-in water behind simple homes and women filled idle hours weaving water hyacinths and creating fish traps. Each project element was carefully designed to mitigate negative environmental impacts while remaining easy to integrate into traditional community lifestyles.

Subtly sweet with a rich umami flavor, chewy texture and undeniable freshness, the fried cá chốt (Mystus catfish) we were given in Thạnh Hưng Commune was not only delicious but a perfect encapsulation of how the CRxN Mekong Project operates. Instead of erecting barriers to grow rice during the flood season and pumping in harmful chemicals, local farmers used the area to raise fish with fingerlings and netting funded by the Project. Once harvested, the fish are cleaned and gutted, dried in a machine provided to the community and then vacuum sealed. The fish can then be sold in local markets or distributed elsewhere in the country as part of Vietnam’s One Commune, One Project (OCOP) initiative.

We witnessed similar, small-scale operations later in the day as well. 37 women in Vĩnh Đại Commune transform lục bình, a notoriously invasive and meddlesome plant, into commercially viable products. We visited one home where a woman was weaving strips of the water hyacinth into baskets, boxes and other home goods in coordination with local company Artex Đồng Tháp. The undertaking helps clear waterways of noxious weeds while simultaneously providing additional income to women in the community. Supporting women in the Delta is an important goal of the overall project because, unlike men, they are often unable to travel outside their homes to secure additional work. Thus, in addition to educational workshops led by experts from nearby universities on topics such as domestic abuse, the CRxN Mekong Project provided 25 zero-interest loans from a revolving fund to 25 different women.

In the fields surrounding one home where the lục bình goods were crafted stretched proof of perhaps the project’s most drastic facet: the floating rice. The type of white rice we eat every day in Vietnam which constitutes the overwhelming majority of exported rice may be ubiquitous now, but it wasn’t always that way. Different, native varieties adapted to the region’s specific flooded conditions once covered the countryside. While the variant does not yield as large of harvests as conventional rice, because they evolved for this area they do not require devastating chemicals or drastic manipulation of water via dikes, making them far more responsible to grow. Planting floating rice during the flood season also allows the fields’ soil to rejuvenate as well.

The CRxN Mekong Project purchased agricultural drones capable of carrying 50 kilograms of floating rice seeds for planting and provided trained pilots to operate them. Once harvested, the rice is sold domestically and abroad as well as used for value-added products such as rice milk, rice noodles and rice flour in cooperation with other local small and medium-sized enterprises (SMEs). And because the 100 hectares planted with the ancient grain do not need pesticides, their waters are safe for raising fish. The cá chốt, cá lóc and other native species grown there not only offer a great source of income but also reduce illegal or irresponsible fishing practices in the area.

During our trip to Long An, we stopped for lunch at a conventional roadside restaurant, complete with rows of hammocks for post-meal naps. The feast included a heaping bowl of floating rice prepared with lotus seeds as well as fried cá chốt and grilled cá lóc. Served with the the smiles and casual friendliness one expects to find in the Delta, it exemplified why the region’s way of life was so important to protect along with the small but profound steps it will take to do so.

Climate Resilient by Nature (CRxN) is an Australian Government initiative, in partnership with WWF-Australia, advancing high-integrity, equitable nature-based solutions to climate change in the Indo-Pacific. Funding for this project in Vietnam is provided by the Mekong Australia Partnership – Water, Energy and Climate.

As Infrastructure Lags Behind, Saigon's Poorest Hardest Hit by Worsening Flooding

2023-10-26T10:00:00+07:00

In April this year, in the first downpour of southern Vietnam’s rainy season, the narrow rented room where Mã Thị Diệp and her children were staying in Hồ Chí Minh City was inundated by knee-high water.

“It flooded in from the street and came up from the drain in the bathroom. We couldn’t stop it,” recalls the lottery ticket vendor. “The liquid was black like coal and so stinky I almost fainted.” The water subsided after two hours, and the family cleaned the room until midnight. “My skin got itchy a bit, and it’s lucky we don’t have anything too valuable to get damaged,” she adds, half-jokingly.

Originally from Vietnam’s southern province of Sóc Trăng, Diệp’s family — and many other migrants among HCMC’s 9.4 million residents — live in District 12, to the north of the city centre. Despite lying on the higher and supposedly drier side of the city, District 12 has become one of its most flood-prone areas in recent years. Generally it is Saigon’s outskirts, predominantly home to migrants and lower-income households, that suffer the highest rates of subsidence and flooding.

The 2023 rainy season began a month earlier than usual in southern Vietnam, arriving in April. Heavy bursts of rainfall in which 100mm of water fell in one hour used to happen around once every five years last century, but became a daily occurrence in June and July this year, according to local authorities. Research anticipates that heavy rainfall will inundate the city’s underdeveloped drainage system more regularly in the coming decades.

This dwelling in District 2 of HCMC, which is home to many migrants from the Mekong Delta, flooded following a downpour in November 2021. Photo by Cương Trần.

These extreme weather trends feed into a worrying wider picture. HCMC is one of the world’s fastest-sinking coastal cities, alongside Tianjin and Shanghai in China, and Semarang and Jakarta in Indonesia. The city is also at increasing risk of substantial flooding from rising sea levels: a one-meter rise would be enough to submerge a fifth of the city by 2100, according to a 2020 government report.

The economic engine of southern Vietnam, Saigon produces 22% of the country’s GDP. Chronic flooding is currently estimated to cost the city US$1.3 billion annually, rising to US$8.7 billion — or 3% of GDP — by 2050.

“It is a city built on water,” says Nguyễn Hồng Quân, an expert in environmental hydrology and climate change at Vietnam National University. “And now it is put in front of a new set of changes. Without proper planning, more severe flooding is certain in the future.”

Infrastructure outpaced by urban sprawl

Long-time District 8 resident Nguyễn Tấn Lợi says this swampy region was covered by rice fields and fish ponds until the early 1990s. It has since been built over with university campuses and residential wards. “The city’s surface is now mostly paved by concrete, with little open soil for the water to seep into,” says Hồng Quân. “[Rainwater] is flushed into the outdated sewers, which can hardly handle it and eventually spill it out back to the street.”

In the city’s southern reaches, Nguyễn Trung Hiếu and his neighbors also face inundation. His neighborhood in District 8 — one of HCMC’s poorest districts — is flooded twice a month between September and February by the Bà Tàng Canal that runs through it. “The tides get higher and higher, by roughly 5cm a year,” he says. Hiếu has raised his floor “a few times already” and the residents have all paid towards work to raise their shared road.

Nearly half of HCMC’s area lies less than one meter above sea level. It is also criss-crossed by a network of tide-influenced rivers and canals that covers approximately 21% of the city. This network is one reason why the city has been an important trade port for the past two centuries for ships carrying agricultural goods from the Mekong Delta and other areas of southern Vietnam. Following the war in the 1960s–1970s, it became the country’s manufacturing and financial hub.

HCMC’s District 8 is a low-lying, historically swampy area that has been built over in recent years, hindering water drainage. Photo by Thanh Huế.

This explosive economic growth came with rapid urbanization, stacked mostly upon soft, alluvial soil. Plumbing infrastructure was slow to catch up to the urban sprawl, so groundwater extraction using makeshift wells became widespread. Thousands of these wells remain in HCMC, pumping groundwater for industrial, domestic and agricultural uses. Where extraction of groundwater exceeds the rate at which it can be replenished, this can cause the water table to lower, and the ground above it to sink.

Between 1991 and 2015, Vietnam’s wider Mekong Delta area sank by an average of approximately 18cm during those 24 years; a 2017 study found groundwater overexploitation to be the main culprit. The gradual subsidence of this area is forcing the poorest inhabitants with the least amount of land to migrate, most likely to HCMC and adjacent industrial hubs.

According to a 2015 study, HCMC itself subsided by an average of 8mm per year during 2006–2010. The most severe levels of subsidence, reaching 70mm per year, were noted in the city’s eastern outskirts, along the Saigon River. Following municipal efforts to reduce groundwater extraction and defend against sea-level rise, a 2020 study found that subsidence levels had improved to between 3.3mm and 53mm per year during 2017-2019. However, the fastest subsidence rates were still to be found in the city’s outskirts. Meanwhile, rising sea levels are projected to displace 78% of HCMC’s inhabitants by 2100.

Disproportionate impacts on HCMC’s residents

A 2016 World Bank study found that HCMC’s slums (“densely built small households and shelters that have [a] predominantly semi‐permanent character”) are disproportionately exposed to the consequences of flooding, with 68–85% being at risk, compared to an average of 63–68% across all of the city’s urban areas.

HCMC is Vietnam’s strongest migration magnet, but the city’s environmental challenges tend to exacerbate the problems faced by many newcomers. “We found migrants were initially healthier than non-migrants, but then their health declined really quickly over time,” says Hang Ngo, a public health research scientist. Last year, her research into migrants from the Mekong Delta found that most live in small, poorly ventilated dwellings with substandard hygiene conditions. If these dwellings are in flood-prone areas, the risk of dengue fever and skin infections increases.

Lê Văn Lợi, a garment worker by day and motorbike taxi driver by night who lives in Bình Chánh District on Saigon’s western outskirts, shares that floods are his biggest fear: the waters can knock over drivers, while fixing a waterlogged bike costs more than VND150,000 (US$6). “Not worth it for a few dollars’ ride,” says the 29-year-old. During particularly rainy spells, Lợi’s income drops substantially.

Crucially, the city’s low-income and migrant populations, who tend to live in areas of high flood risk with underdeveloped local infrastructure, usually have fewer resources to protect them from flooding. “It is like a vicious circle,” says Cao Vũ Quỳnh Anh, a University of Tokyo researcher who has studied how HCMC residents cope with floods.

A road on the outskirts of Saigon’s District 2, flooded following heavy rain in June 2018. Photo by Cương Trần.

Grey, green and communal problem-solving

The Vietnamese government is currently betting on engineering to hold back the water in its biggest city. But progress so far has been slow. For example, a drainage infrastructure project for the city was proposed in 2001, but 20 years later, its construction was less than 50% complete. Another project, which seeks to protect a 570 square kilometer area encompassing the city centre with ring dykes, sluiceways and water pumps, is currently behind schedule. Insufficient interest in such projects from both city authorities and private investors is reportedly a factor in these delays.

Critics have pointed out that these flood defense projects are too limited in scope however, because they are mainly concerned with the old, central areas. HCMC’s urban sprawl is outpacing protection plans. “These ‘grey’ solutions may help soothe the flooding problems, but they are not enough,” says Hồng Quân.

According to research published in June 2023, the deployment of “small-scale rainwater detention measures” (also known as the “sponge city” approach) would be beneficial in Saigon. Such measures would include installing green roofs, rain barrels, porous sidewalks and water-detention basins. The research found that these smaller-scale, fragmented measures are a “highly complementary adaptation pathway” when deployed alongside large-scale engineering interventions.

Quỳnh Anh says the city is following the same reactive adaptation approach as other Asian coastal cities like Tokyo, Jakarta and Manila. This approach means “fewer choices of measures are left and time is very tight for any solution,” she says.

According to both Hồng Quân and Quỳnh Anh, Vietnam’s most populous city currently lacks a comprehensive flood-mitigation plan that connects solutions together. But for such a plan to materialise, Quỳnh Anh says “better communication between the city and its people” is essential. “Understanding is very important. It helps the city to come up with more applicable adaptation plans, and the residents can be proactive in coping with flooding.”

Meanwhile, both Mã Thị Diệp and Nguyễn Trung Hiếu are running out of solutions. Diệp has moved her family to a new neighborhood on higher ground, but she says she cannot afford a more expensive room if this one floods. And Hiếu knows the tide will keep climbing, but he cannot keep raising his home: “If we lift the floor any higher, it will touch the ceiling.”

This story was originally produced by China Dialogue and has been republished with permission.

Vignette: Local Ox Rampages Airport, Stops Flights, Gets Put in Museum in Huế

2023-08-30T11:00:00+07:00

Name a famous buffalo.

Maybe you are able to recall a specific buffalo from a beloved story or film, but it’s unlikely you can think of an actual buffalo that can be deemed notorious. Fame is a uniquely human quality after all and it’s rare for an animal to have such an impact on our societies so as to achieve it.

But I have seen a famous buffalo. On the second floor of Huế’s Central Coast Museum of Nature (Bảo Tàng Thiên Nhiên Duyên Hải Miền Trung), surrounded by primate skeletons and across from a taxidermy chicken diorama rests a stuffed buffalo head. On the third floor, the full and imposing skeleton stands. We’ve written enough about the failure of Vietnamese museums to offer enough informative signage, but it’s true that we wouldn’t have known this buffalo is famous were it not for the museum staff that happened to be showing us around. They shared its story.

In 2012, a buffalo rampaged onto the Huế’s Phú Bài International Airport runway after killing a local woman. At least 12 flights were affected and more than 100 policemen were required to capture the wild animal that died shortly after its capture. The bull, famous to those who had picked up a newspaper that day or heard telling of it in the city, was donated to the humble museum.

Its head rests down the hall from the body of another quasi-famous mammal: one of the 17 tigers recovered during a bust of the shockingly large illegal tiger operation in Nghệ An in 2021. It ultimately passed away not long after its rescue and its body was donated to the museum to aid in its mission to educate locals about Vietnam’s natural world. We only knew the story behind this specific stuffed tiger because of the staff.

Is the nature museum any more appealing with the knowledge that some of the animals on display made national headlines? Do the buffalo’s glass eyes sparkle a little brighter knowing the body they’re set in demanded the full attention of a police force and diverted countless holidays? It could be true that “You’re nobody, till somebody kills you” as The Notorious B.I.G. rapped. But you still need people to share the story to keep that fame intact. This is Saigoneer, doing our part.

Vignette: Behold Vietnam's Oldest Rock, a Memento Mori of Human Insignificance

2023-08-25T14:00:00+07:00

While lamenting how long it had been since I’d last sent a postcard, a coworker at Saigoneer revealed that she is too young to have ever seen a stamp in person, let alone affixed one to a letter. The fashions I wore in high school have come full circle and are once again in style. New slang terms initially baffle and then enrage me. I read popular music festival fliers without recognizing a single name.

In other words, lately, I’m feeling old. I am thus extremely thankful for the “Fossils - A Journey to Discover the Origin of Life on Earth” exhibition in Huế for putting it in perspective for me.

In front of ancient ammonites, the teeth of long-extinct wales, bone fragments from prehistoric panda bears, evidence of monstrous sharks and fragile shrimps, rests the exhibition’s most impressive piece: a hunk of rock. Dull brown with swaths of drab red, dusty gray and black, it looks exactly like any rock you may picture; it's the Platonic ideal of a rock. An average person passing it in a park wouldn’t give it a second glance.

But Dr. Trần Ngọc Nam, the former Dean of the Department of Geography-Geology of the College of Science, Huế University, was on a mission to find such a rock. Research had suggested Vietnam’s oldest rocks would be found in the Central Highlands and the Con Voi Mountain Range in the Northwest. He thus traveled with a team to a waterfall in Yên Bái Province to collect this specimen. Analysis of its zircon crystals at a Japanese laboratory determined it to be 2.936 billion years old.

2.936 BILLION years old? That means the rock has been around since before a single living creature existed on our planet, let alone the emergence of humans. Its very existence amongst our society today serves as a valued memento mori, reminding us how insignificant the average human lifespan is compared to the longevity of the physical world.

Thinking about how long it’s been lying about, minding its own existence has helped assuage the emotions I’ve been feeling — I realize that when I was staying up past my bedtime, praying the sound of dial-up internet wouldn’t wake up my mom, some of my friends hadn’t even been born yet. But I’m not old, that rock is old.

Learning to Coexist in Peace Is the First Step to Protect Vietnam's Last Remaining Elephants

2023-07-21T10:00:00+07:00

A trail of enormous footprints, criss-crossing slabs of cracked concrete, lead to a battered ranger station in Vietnam’s Pù Mát National Park. Park staff say the wild Asian elephant that left the tracks is as friendly as it is lonely.

Separated from any of the country’s remaining wild herds, the solitary giant satisfies her social appetite by interacting with people at the station. Rangers say the 29-year-old female has been solo since her mother died more than a decade ago. Signs of her visits to the rangers are hard to miss, with craters in the soil left by weighty feet, a fence bent from a playful push, and a dented sign toppled by a frisky trunk.

“The elephant usually comes here to play,” says Nguyễn Công Thành, a ranger at Pù Mát in Vietnam’s north-central Nghệ An Province, as he points out the damage. The wild elephant herd which lives deeper in the forests of Pù Mát — made up of around 15 individuals — is far less friendly, he says.

Nguyễn Công Thành, a ranger at Pù Mát National Park, holds a battered sign which was knocked down by a solitary wild elephant.

Lộc Văn Hùng, a fellow ranger, with a section of the station’s fence that the elephant damaged

Only around 100 wild elephants are estimated to survive in Vietnam, separated into 22 groups across the country. These last survivors of Asia’s once 100,000-strong elephant population face a myriad of threats, including conflict with people, exacerbated by habitat loss.

Drawn to fruit trees, corn, rice and other agricultural produce, a herd of wild elephants can destroy a farmer’s livelihood in a single meal. And when Vietnam’s remaining wild herds interact with humans, the results are often fraught and sometimes fatal.

As pressure mounts from agricultural expansion and other human development, conservationists warn the dwindling number of elephants will soon approach the point of no return in sustaining a viable population.

In the last two years in Pù Mát, rangers allegedly suspect two elephants may have been killed by poisoning in possible acts of retribution following conflicts with humans.

An Asian elephant takes a bath in Vietnam’s Yok Don National Park in May 2023, when a record-setting heat wave swept Vietnam.

With Vietnam’s elephant populations trailing on the very edge of viability, each incident of conflict threatens the continued existence of the species there.

Vietnam’s elephants on the brink

Asian elephants are listed as critically endangered on the Vietnam Red Book of rare and endangered species, while the International Union for Conservation of Nature’s Red List categorize them as endangered at the global level.

A tourist draws a rescued Asian elephant during a tour hosted by NGO Animals Asia in Yok Don National Park, which is estimated to be home to 28–60 wild elephants.

Vietnam’s wild elephant population has been in sharp decline for decades. Huge swathes of forest were destroyed during the 20-year-long American War, and the animals’ habitat has continued to shrink as the country has developed.

Hunted for ivory and the elephant skin trade, and captured from the wild for use in logging and tourism, Vietnam’s wild elephant population has fallen from approximately 2,000 in 1980 to between 91 and 129 in 2022, according to the Vietnam Forest Administration.

The few surviving wild herds live in areas close to Vietnam’s borders with Cambodia and Laos. The largest groups are in three national parks: Cát Tiên, Pù Mát and Yok Don. Even then, Cát Tiên and Pù Mát are home to fewer than 20 elephants, while between 28 and 60 are estimated to live in Yok Don, according to data from the Vietnam Forestry Administration. The rest of the nation’s wild elephants are sparsely scattered across nine provinces, with four provinces counting just a single wild elephant.

Wild Asian elephant herds have declined steadily for decades in Vietnam. As of 2022, 91–129 elephants are estimated to survive across 12 provinces, with the largest herds restricted to three national parks. • Data source: Vietnam Forestry Administration • Graphic: China Dialogue, Anton Delgado

The Vietnam Forestry Administration lists Lâm Đồng Province as elephant habitat. However, no data on the number of individuals is included.

A national plan to save elephants

Vietnam is currently crafting a national action plan on elephant conservation to protect the country’s remaining wild herds. This program will run from 2023 to 2032, and will set a vision to 2050.

Mai Nguyễn, wildlife program manager at Humane Society International (HSI), an animal welfare and conservation NGO, says that national agencies, along with authorities from those provinces where wild elephants cling on, have been meeting with conservation groups in “consultation workshops” and “technical meetings” to develop the action plan.

A sculpture of an Asian elephant herd made of snares and other wildlife traps in Vietnam’s Pù Mát National Park, which is estimated to be home to fewer than 20 wild elephants.

HSI is leading on writing a draft plan, while also providing technical support and encouraging authorities to find “appropriate interventions” to mitigate conflict between elephants and local communities, Mai says. The plan must be signed by Vietnam’s prime minister or the Ministry of Agriculture and Rural Development before it comes into effect.

But reducing human-elephant conflict is complex, and more information is needed to inform responses, Mai says. “The conflict is unique and it’s also very complicated. To sort this out is not easy and it takes time… We should keep monitoring and learning about the characteristics of the conflict.”

Retaliation and reconciliation

Some traditional methods used to scare elephants away from crops in Vietnam can be harmful to the animals. While many farmers will bang pots, flash lights, and set off firecrackers, some have also used more violent means.

Locals in Cát Tiên have told conservationists about an incident some four years ago in which they threw a Molotov cocktail at a wild male elephant and lit it on fire in an attempt to drive it away. People in the area later reported the elephant is one of the more aggressive animals now.

An Asian elephant munches vegetation in Yok Don National Park, which is home to Vietnam’s largest wild elephant herd.

Conservationists had initially hoped that “bio-fences” such as bee boxes and chili plants could be used to deter elephants, but these passive interventions have been mainly unsuccessful.

Another potential solution, which some are pushing to be included in the conservation plan, is a countrywide compensation program for property destroyed by elephants. These initiatives are intended to prevent acts of retaliation against the animals, and though some exist on the local level, there is no such countrywide mechanism.

“We hope some compensation to local people can settle down the conflict and hopefully we can protect the elephants,” said Thông Phạm, a research manager with Save Vietnam’s Wildlife.

Phước, a fruit vendor, playing with his three-year-old son at an elephant fountain in Buôn Đôn Square, Đắk Lắk province.

Mai Nguyễn at HSI is working to submit a final draft of the action plan to the government in the hopes of it being signed by the end of this year. “To sort this out is not easy,” she says. “We must represent the elephant voice.”

Training for better responses to human-elephant conflict

In late May 2023, Cao Thị Lý, an elephant expert and retired professor from Tây Nguyên University in Đắk Lắk, led a training course on mitigating human-elephant conflict. At the event, approximately an hour’s drive from Pù Mát National Park, we met with conservationists, rangers, and members of a “community quick-response team” dedicated to mitigating human-wildlife conflict around the park. The training course was arranged by nonprofit Fauna & Flora International (FFI), which runs conservation efforts in Pù Mát and backs the response team.

“Out of 13 Asian nations [with extant wild elephant populations], Vietnam is the one with the fewest wild elephants left,” says Lý. “We have to change to help the elephants.”

Cao Thị Lý, a retired professor from Tây Nguyên University in Đắk Lắk and author of a book on human-elephant conflict in Vietnam, leads a training course on the topic with conservationists, rangers and researchers.

Habitat destruction has exacerbated human-elephant conflict, says Đặng Đình Lâm, a member of the quick-response team.

Rubber plantations and slash-and-burn farming near Pù Mát National Park have shrunk elephant habitat and thus availability of elephant food, Lâm says.

“The conflict has two sides. Elephants lack habitat, and because they destroy crops and property, people dislike them,” Lâm says. “I hope that the government and people will be more responsible about protecting elephants.”

Engineers of the forest

“When I was young, I could see elephants everywhere,” says Quỳnh Phạm, driving an e-cart into the 115,000-hectare Yok Don National Park in Vietnam’s verdant Central Highlands, which is home to the country’s largest wild elephant population. Quỳnh is the ethical elephant tourism manager for Animals Asia, a nonprofit working in Vietnam and China to improve the welfare of captive wildlife.

In December 2021, Animals Asia signed a memorandum of understanding with the province of Đắk Lắk (where Yok Don is located) to end elephant rides completely by 2026 and transition to ethical elephant tourism. As of 2022, there were 37 domesticated or captive elephants in Đắk Lắk province, and between 28 and 60 in the wild.

Ten animals previously used for elephant rides now live in Yok Don, under the care of Animals Asia. The elephants roam freely in the park during the day, with mahouts traveling with them to ensure their safety; they are kept on long chains in the park overnight. Visiting tourists can watch the animals grazing, bathing, and mud wallowing from a safe distance.

While far from the hundreds of Quỳnh’s youth, the 10 retired elephants can now play their key natural role in the forest ecosystem.

Trampling through the forest, two females graze on bamboo and plough through thick vegetation — a long way from the elephant rides of their past. Wild Asian elephants do this for 18 hours a day, dispersing seeds and creating new forest trails for smaller species as they go. As elephant populations have plummeted across Asia, this important role as an “engineer” has been left unfilled.

An Asian elephant, rescued by Animals Asia, feeds in Vietnam’s Yok Don National Park. Elephants can eat up to 150 kilograms of vegetation per day.

Prasop Tipprasert, who has worked in elephant conservation for more than 30 years in Southeast Asia, explains that the presence of elephants in the wild indicates a healthy, biodiverse landscape.

“If we cannot keep elephants from extinction, we lose the potential of keeping our forests healthy,” says Prasop, who now works for the Laos-based eco-tourism agency MandaLao Elephant Conservation.

Cao Thị Lý, an expert in human-elephant conflict, points out a sign warning of frequent wild elephant sightings in Vietnam’s Pù Mát National Park.

Lý, the retired professor, says that for elephants to maintain their role as ecosystem engineers in Vietnam’s forests, the country’s government must actively restore and reconnect their habitat to give different populations opportunities to interact and interbreed.

While elephants could once travel through suitable habitat from northern to southern Vietnam, forests have become increasingly fragmented, with conflict with humans becoming “systematic” as forests shrink, she says.

“Due to the conflict between humans and elephants over the small leftover shared resources, bad outcomes arise,” she notes. “The confrontation between humans and elephants has intensified.”

An approximately 40-year-old Asian elephant rescued by Animals Asia treads through Vietnam’s Yok Don National Park

Elephants on the brink in neighboring countries

The decline of elephants in Vietnam is mirrored in neighboring nations. The wild Asian elephant populations of both Laos and Cambodia are estimated to number less than a thousand. In China, barely 300 wild elephants are believed to survive, with their once enormous range now limited to a pocket of the south-western province of Yunnan.

Conflict over resources is a major concern for China’s remaining wild herds. In 2021, 14 elephants usually resident in a nature reserve in Yunnan’s Xishuangbanna region began to move northwards. On their months-long journey, the elephants destroyed property, creating a challenge for authorities in finding a balance between elephant conservation and protecting citizens’ dwellings and livelihoods. According to local authorities, 150,000 people were evacuated from the elephants’ path to avoid potentially dangerous incidents, and the government paid out a total of US$770,000 in property damages.

Farmland surrounds Pù Mát National Park, one of the few locations where wild elephants cling on in Vietnam.

Sitting just steps from where Pù Mát’s solo female elephant is often spotted, Cao Thị Lý underlines how important habitat protection is if there is to be any chance of saving the last elephants of Vietnam.

“Vietnam is the weakest in everything in elephant conservation,” she says. “We have the chance to help the elephants to keep growing their population in the future, but we need to rebuild forests.”

This story was originally produced by China Dialogue in collaboration with Southeast Asia Globe with additional reporting by Nguyễn Háo Thanh Thảo. It has been republished with permission from China Dialogue.

Another Hoàn Kiếm Turtle Dies in Hanoi, Setting Back Conservation Efforts

2023-04-24T16:00:00+07:00

It’s reported that a “Hoàn Kiếm turtle” living in Hanoi has died, further impeding efforts by conservationists to keep the species from extinction.

According to inside sources confirmed by Tiền Phong, the carcass of a Hoàn Kiếm turtle has been floating atop the Đồng Mô Lake in western Hanoi for the past two days. Government officials are currently investigating the cause behind its passing.

“Hoàn Kiếm turtle” is the colloquial name for Rafetus swinhoei, or Yangtze giant softshell turtle, an endangered reptile with fewer than five mature individuals living in eastern China and along the Red River Delta in northern Vietnam.

The softshell turtle carcass spotted in Đồng Mô Lake recently.

Experts believe that the Đồng Mô specimen could have died for days before being spotted by locals. It measured 156 centimeters in length and 93 kilograms in weight. According to the Asian Turtle Program, there are likely two turtle individuals living in the lake, but scientists have only managed to catch and genetically confirm one female in 2020 — believed to be the ill-fated one that recently passed away.

While Rafetus turtles once populated the many water bodies in the Red River Basin, environmental degradation and human activities have vastly reduced their distribution. The Suzhou Zoo in China once hosted a pair of Yangtze giant softshell turtles, but the female individual died in 2018 during breeding efforts.

In 2016, the last turtle of Hoàn Kiếm lake, a male often known by the honorific Cụ Rùa, passed away. With the recent passing, the world is down to two confirmed Rafetus swinhoei individuals: one in Suzhou and one in Xuân Khanh Lake, Hanoi (confirmed via eDNA in 2018). Even though it is possible that Đồng Mô Lake might house more turtles, more scientific testing is needed to determine that they indeed belong to the same species as Rafetus swinhoei.

[Photos via VOV]

I Saw the World's Most Handsome Bird Right in Vietnam's Hidden Backyard

2023-03-13T15:43:12+07:00

Everywhere I go in Vietnam, I keep my eyes peeled for the incredible birds that call this country home. Sometimes I don’t even realize that I’m doing it. I scan the horizon above low hills for migratory hawks. I stare into breaks in the foliage for passing buttonquail. I peer into rice paddies, fingers crossed for a cryptic snipe. And, of course, there’s Facebook. I refresh Facebook over and over again, waiting for the arrival of the mandarin duck. Its scientific name is Aix galericulata, which one assumes means “prettiest goddamn duck in the world.”

In actuality, "aix" is an Ancient Greek word first used by Aristotle to refer to an unknown diving bird while "galericulata" is the Latin for a wig, derived from galerum, a cap or bonnet. This is the kind of bird so utterly magnificent that you basically assume you’ll never see it. Mandarin ducks breed in the dense and isolated forests on the edge of rivers and lakes in far eastern Russia, China, and Hokkaido, Japan; the total number tallies up to just a few thousand pairs. During the winters they migrate southwards, fleeing the subarctic temperatures of their breeding grounds for the warmer swamps and flooded fields in central China. And every winter there is a single family group that decides to fly a little farther than the rest: about a thousand kilometers farther, to a hidden lake in northern Vietnam.

A family of Vietnam's next top avians.

Ba Bể is the largest natural lake in the country, and the heart of Ba Bể National Park. While only four hours from Hanoi by car, this treasure of the northern mountains is often skipped by Sa Pa trekkers and Hà Giang road trippers. But it is not ignored, thank goodness, by the Vietnamese birdwatching community. Steep limestone cliffs and primary forest all around the lakeshore make Ba Bể a hidden haven for birds, including the too-beautiful-to-be-allowed mandarin duck. My search for the duck during the migratory season begins online, where Vietnamese birdwatchers share their photos, tips and secrets.

Birdwatchers like Nguyễn Mạnh Hiệp, a senior official at the Vietnam Administration of Forestry, who keeps tabs on the ducks by staying in contact with national park rangers. There's also Nguyễn Thanh Sơn, an office worker and wildlife lover in Hanoi who, like me, relies on a network of bird and photography enthusiasts to let him know when incredible species like the mandarin duck are spotted. This winter, when the prodigal ducks returned, photos of them immediately began to pop up among this insular community of dedicated birders. Sơn decided one afternoon that he had to see them, and the next morning he was up at 3am to make his way north. I was on a business trip in Thailand when they appeared, and the moment I returned to Hanoi I was on my way, too, not wasting the hour it would have taken to go home and drop off my luggage.

Mandarin duck is the kind of bird so utterly magnificent that you basically assume you’ll never see it.

The passage into Ba Bể felt very much like entering another world — so much so that it’s worth saying this, despite the cliché. I joined my friend Bùi Đức Tiến, Vice President of the Vietnam Bird Conservation Society, and together we caught an early morning boat from town that coursed down a narrow river feeding the lake. We passed through an enormous limestone cave, coming out on the other end to the secluded sanctuary of Ba Bể. I was, of course, deeply anxious. We did not yet see the duck. It was far from certain that we would see the duck. I'm not sure I can describe how much I wanted to see the duck.

And then, there it was. It was Tiến, of course, who spotted it first: a single male, perched on a tree that overhangs the water. We cut the engine and coasted towards it. I lay on my stomach on the bow, steadying my camera and holding my breath. The duck, who has, in the past weeks, flown on little wings across a significant portion of the Asian continent, was totally relaxed. He was, without exaggeration, one of the most beautiful birds on a planet so richly populated with beautiful birds. Purple, indigo and chestnut splayed from his body at odd angles, like ornate shavings of tinted glass. What a thing it is to behold.

Majestically leaping off the water.

The Vietnamese name for these ducks, chim uyên ương, can be literally translated as "love bird." Vietnamese novelist and translator Nguyễn Hiền Trang points out that the name comes from the Chinese language: yuanyang (鸳鸯). In both Vietnam and in China, these ducks have a cultural significance dating back millennia. Mandarin ducks first started to show up in ancient Chinese poetry more than 1,500 years ago, appearing as symbols of both romantic and fraternal love. In Vietnam, terra cotta mandarin ducks decorated palace and pagoda towers during the Lý and Trần dynasties. The ducks even make a few appearances in the classic Vietnamese narrative poem 'Chinh Phụ Ngâm Khúc' once again as symbols of devotion and love.

Why symbols of love, you ask? The answer is in their duality. With ostentatiously colored males and much more modest females, the mandarin duck embodies the balance of yin and yang — gendered forms of the feminine earth below and the masculine firmament above. Perhaps owing to this legend, people across the ducks’ migratory route believe them to mate for life. But while lifelong monogamy isn’t unheard of in the world of birds, I regret to inform you that, in the case of these ducks, it is indeed a love story that’s too good to be true. Male mandarin ducks may be beautiful, but they are also carousing ruffians, hilariously unfaithful lovers, and absentee fathers.

Mandarin duck is one of the most beautiful bird species that can be spotted in Vietnam.

But that name, love birds, still rings true. One of the joys of birdwatching is escaping the self, and spending time appreciating an animal entirely on its own terms, and in its own world. Love birds may better describe the feelings that the mandarin ducks give us than it does their talent for monogamy. Judging by their prominent place in ancient Vietnamese culture, we can guess that there used to be a whole lot more of these ducks flying around than just this one family, at this one hidden lake. But with a growing number of Vietnamese people committed to protecting these creatures, we can hope that they will remain safe for generations to come. That’s what we could all use in times like these, I think. More birds. More love.

The Nocturnal Thrill of Capturing Vietnam's Elegant Fauna in Wildlife Photography

2022-12-14T13:00:00+07:00

For most people, walking in the jungle at night would sound like a bad idea. A lack of knowledge and many misbeliefs, unfortunately, create bad assumptions about the wilderness after dark. And snakes, species that seem to be conjured by our nightmares, only reveal themselves when the sun is on the other side of the planet. But they are simply wild animals, with important roles in the ecosystem. With that acknowledgment and a respectful approach, we can start…

Venturing into nature satisfies my passion for wildlife while presenting a never-ending learning process. Working for NGOs in the past and now as a consultant, the boundaries between work and passion sometimes blur. For a naturalist, it’s almost inconceivable to stick to only one branch of zoology. For me, ornithology was, and still is, my biggest link with the wild. Birds are everywhere and their ability to travel makes them a strong symbol of how nature isn’t limited to borders. For those who take time to look up, open their ears and pay attention, birds will appear. Once I learned to do so, it became physically impossible not to notice birds all around me.

An interest in any particular animal logically leads to an interest in its habitat and by extension the other species around them. While looking for some snakes, for example, one will surely observe different amphibians as well as insects and other invertebrates. A naturalist will surely want to know about those as well. Thankfully, in Vietnam, herping (looking for reptiles and amphibians) is mostly done at night. Therefore, it’s possible to balance it with birding which is mostly a daytime activity. Your sleep quota might suffer a bit but bear in mind that it’s also often only seasonal.

Thus, over the years I developed an interest in reptiles as well as wildlife photography. Trying to capture a specific behavior or simply the beauty of what goes usually unseen is an interesting combination of art and science. I do believe that it’s important to sometimes forget devices and technologies to focus on capturing experiences and memories, raw, with my senses alone.

My first “identified” contact with snakes in France was with a Natricine water snake (Natrix maura), a common and harmless species that are often killed because people mistake it for a viper, despite such action being illegal. Snakes in Vietnam don’t always have the same luxuries of being classified as protected species. Many of them are still hunted to be raised for food or sometimes sold as pets. In most situations, fear and a lack of knowledge result in them being killed. Thus, a few years ago some friends and I created a Facebook page, Snakes & Wildlife Central Vietnam - Inform & Protect, in order to bring accurate information and support to people encountering snakes or other wild species. We believe it to be the best way to avoid destruction and raise awareness.

With posts in both Vietnamese and English about snakes and their ecology, nothing like it previously existed. People can post or message to identify a snake, learn more about it and to ask for a relocation when necessary. Still limited to the Hội An and Đà Nẵng area, the initiative is 100% volunteer-supported. Therefore, money doesn’t influence what happens to the snakes. Step by step, we can see similar initiatives being launched, especially in the south, where young Vietnamese herpers are also organizing rescues and relocations. There is still a long way to go, but I am convinced the journey starts with discovery. So with that, let’s step into the jungle.

5pm in Hội An, September 2022

Looking for reptiles and amphibians in Vietnam is most successful at night. Animals are more active then and their detection becomes, to a certain extent, easier.

Massive clouds have been playing in the sky all afternoon and now, they are releasing an impressive amount of water. For a naturalist, especially a herpetologist*, rain can be a blessing. Frogs and toads are definitely more active. Some snake species will also enjoy this weather, making their detection a bit easier.

*Herpetology is the study of reptiles and amphibians. It comes from the ancient Greek herpeton, designating reptiles or, more precisely, “crawling things.”

Few universities offer courses on herpetology. Though, like many other field zoology disciplines, experiences and uncountable hours spent outside are the best ways to prove one’s knowledge of it on a CV.

For the trip, I prepare some equipment including snake hooks. They will be useful to move a snake without harming it or causing it stress. They are also the safest way to interact with venomous species. I also charge my camera batteries and double-check my SD cards. It’s essential to check my flashlights and headlamps before going into the forest. Having good lighting is necessary for finding wildlife at night, especially snakes because they do not wait for people to pass by and jump on them — this, however, would make things so much easier.

Spotting snakes necessitates looking closer and analyzing patterns and colors. Different angles of light might suddenly reveal a strange shape among the leaves, for example. Frogs and toads are betrayed by their eyeshine which results from a layer of cells in their eyes called the tapedum lucidum. This helps to reflect light, increasing the amount available for their photoreceptors. Many nocturnals animals or species living in dark environments have a tapedum lucidum. Spiders, those amazing hunters, have it as well.

I remember one session in particular at a dry stream. Many huge, moss-covered rocks there provided great micro-habitats for invertebrates. My torchlight quickly revealed that those rocks were also the favorite hunting area of dozens of massive huntsman spiders (Sparassidae). I could clearly see their large eyes shining through the darkness when the light was hitting them.

Despite sometimes reaching an impressive size, these members of the Sparassidae family (Họ nhện thợ săn) are harmless to humans. Some species live inside human houses while others prefer a forested habitat. Unfortunately for people scared of spiders, they are extremely fast and jumpy. When disturbed, they move in the blink of an eye.

Snakes, unlike huntsman spiders, rely on other senses to capture prey and move at night. As always, for wildlife, learning about the ecology of the species one is looking for is essential. I hope that this knowledge of their behavior and preferred habitat, in addition to how they appear in the dark, will help me tonight.

Everything is packed, it's time to go! The rain has slowed to a very light drizzle; nothing that could keep a naturalist inside.

While Quảng Nam Province is still rich with some amazing wild areas, the ones around Hội An are getting tough for wildlife. City expansion has resulted in the uncontrolled destruction of natural habitats. Rice paddies are increasingly found stuck between houses, cafes and large hotels. Patches of spontaneous vegetation are becoming rare. And even worse, roads and paths are appearing everywhere. Habitat fragmentation is a real threat to all species because as individuals get disconnected from each other, they must risk crossing dangerous thoroughfares. Snakes are unfortunately regular victims of the vehicles traveling around Hội An and elsewhere in the country.

Thankfully, it’s still possible to observe species better adapted to disturbed habitats. The Siamese red-necked keelback, or Rắn hoa cỏ cổ đỏ xiêm (Rhabdophis siamensis) is the snake that people are most likely to observe at least once if they live here. Relict habitats, the remains of what once was an area’s primary landscape, can shelter many animals and thus preserve biodiversity.

The Siamese red-necked keelback (Rhabdophis siamensis) is uniquely easy to observe during the day. Adapted to disturbed habitats, the snake often dwells near houses and gardens. According to some Vietnamese traditional beliefs, the snake can be an incarnation of an ancestor watching over a person. Therefore, the snake, compared to some of its less lucky cousins, is more readily tolerated.

Very reluctant to bite, the Siamese red-necked keelback is rear-fanged. To inject its venom, the snake needs to hold onto and chew into its prey, allowing its venom to flow along the grooved teeth. Therefore, the snake is unlikely to envenomate a person. During my many interventions to relocate snakes from houses or gardens, I have never seen a red-necked keelback try to bite unless handled. The snake is also able to reuse toxins from the toads it feeds on. The chemical components are sequestered and stored in glands located on the neck area, under the skin. When threatened, the gland will break, spreading a mix of blood and toxins on the snake’s skin. This will undoubtedly give a memorable negative experience to any potential predators willing to give it a go.

The road to our destination tonight is without major difficulties. I found the area via routine explorations for new areas. Not too far from Hội An, the jungle here is well preserved despite human activities getting closer and closer.

As the summer ends, nights are fill with the scent of hoa sữa (Alstonia scholaris). It’s not surprising that the perfume of these white flowers of the blackboard tree has been a source of inspiration for poets and artists in Vietnam for generations. For me, its deeply linked to nights observing wildlife.

Around a cultivated area, we cross the path of a small White-lipped pit viper, or Rắn lục đuôi đỏ, (Trimeresurus cf. albolabris). We stop shortly to observe the snake, which remains relatively common in the area. As we continue, the sound of frogs, katydids and a few Large-tailed nightjars, or cú muỗi đuôi dài, (Caprimulgus macrurus) compose our evening’s soundtrack.

Once we reach our destination, it’s time to leave our bikes behind. Deeper in the jungle, we can already hear amphibians singing. The forest floor is still wet from the rain and leaves are shining with tiny ephemeral jewels.

Our cameras and flashlights are ready. It’s time to focus. Snakes can be anywhere, moving on the ground or among branches. Several species in the area are mostly nocturnal, actively hunting for lizards, amphibians, small mammals or even other snakes, at this hour. Looking for movement is a good way to spot them. Finding them is also a matter of training one’s eyes for unexpected details, colors or shapes that break the pattern of surrounding vegetation. In many situations, this is easier said than done.

Walking very slowly and changing the angle of our lights helps to reveal treasures hidden among the leaves. Lizards scurry around and frogs like to explore trees, especially during wet weather. Spiders are especially eye-catching thanks to their wide range of colors and habits. The genus Macracantha, for instance, includes some of the most incredible spiders. Last time I was here early in the morning, I came across a spectacular Long-horned orb weaver (Macracantha arcuata). It might be among my favorite spiders.

“Snake!” The night’s quiet is broken. My friend has just found one slowly moving between branches. Its colors blend perfectly among dying leaves and branches. It is a Common mock-viper, or Rắn hổ đất nâu, (Psammodynastes pulverulentus). They are mildly venomous and there is no reported case of envenomation, so the fairly small snake isn’t a danger to humans. That said, it doesn’t mean that a bite would be a pleasant experience at all!

I get my camera ready to capture different views of the snake. The most important thing is to avoid disturbing the snake for too long. Capturing beautiful and accurate images will surely be a great help when talking about it and sharing it with more people, but observation and handling, especially for reptiles and amphibians, should never come before the well-being and respect of the animal and its habitat. In many situations, leaving the snake alone is the best thing to do. Doing so allows one to best observe its natural behavior. Despite the competitive impulses fostered by social media, capturing an image must come with strong ethics. Observations are themselves a source of massive satisfaction for any serious naturalist and photos are never indispensable unless one is leading a scientific survey.

The mock-viper sets its own boundaries. After a few minutes, it decides to go further inside the bush. The photo shoot is over. I take a quick look at what I got. They don't seem too bad and I will see the final results later on my computer. For now, it’s time to look for more discoveries.

As we get closer to a small stream, frog calls become louder. They are coming from everywhere. Some species are singing in the water and others are sitting comfortably on branches. The most prudent ones are carefully hiding under roots or in holes. It sometimes sounds like they are using the natural cavities as echo chambers. The ground is literally talking to the night.

I am studying each bush, from the highest branches to the dead leaves littering the ground. Finally, my careful attention pays off: a thin green vine is moving in a strange way. It is definitely not a plant. My excitement rises as I get closer and find the head of a snake. It’s an Oriental whip snake, or Rắn roi thường, (Ahaetulla prasina). Its slender body provides another of its popular names: Vine snake (the name actually covers different genus from Asia, Africa and South America). This individual has an intense fluorescent green color.

The Oriental whip snake (Ahaetulla prasina) can be found in different colors, often called morphs. Some individuals are grey or light brown, while others are shades of yellow. There is plenty of variation amongst the green color, as well.

The species is widespread in Vietnam. In 2021, a new species, Ahaetulla rufusoculara, was split from Ahaetulla prasina in southern Vietnam, showing how even common and widespread species can still retain some mystery.

This genus really has a unique look and some specific habits as well. Snakes flick their tongues to capture chemicals to be analyzed by their Jacobson’s organ. Doing so gives them a detailed idea of their environment, the potential presence of prey and much more information that we don’t fully understand yet. The flicking happens in the blink of an eye. When I observe Oriental whip snakes, I almost always see them holding their tongue straight out of their mouths. I have to be honest, this makes them look usually much less impressive than some of their cousins. The behavior might be an example of something called lingual luring. Their tongue looks a little like a tasty worm and tree frogs or agamid lizards can be tempted to give it a go. before realizing, too late, that the vine behind the “worm” was actually a predator.

A few meters further from the bush, I spot a silhouette on a large fern. It’s a gorgeous Mountain horned dragon (Acanthosaura nathaliae). Like other Acanthosaura, the species is active during the day. At night, they find a comfortable spot to sleep, but remain somehow always ready to jump away if danger gets too close. For now, my slow approach is paying off. The tiny dragon is still watching but seems to be ok with the camera around. It looks like a young female judging by its color and the size of her horns. She still has some small pieces of old skin on her head. Snakes shed in one full piece, which is why it’s sometimes possible to find snake skins in the wild. Lizards, in contrast, go through the process piece by piece.

Exploring the jungle at night requires a lot of attention. It’s worth checking almost every leaf, as one can find tiny surprises like different insects hiding. Different frogs are also perfectly adept at climbing. Tree frogs and flying frogs are the masters of this discipline. I am lucky this time to catch a gorgeous South-Vietnamese bug-eyed frog (Theloderma vietnamense) sitting quietly on a green leaf. It’s in a perfect position to capture a few quick images. Despite its name, the frog can also be found in Central Vietnam as well in neighboring countries. Its eyes seem to offer a perfect reflection of the night sky. On the leaf, the animal is pretty easy to spot, but on tree bark or the forest floor, it would be nearly impossible unless it was moving. The genus Theloderma that it belongs to also includes some incredible other species like the elusive Mossy frog (Theloderma corticale) that can be observed in North Vietnam.

After some more time exploring around, photographing various insects, spiders and frogs, it’s time to return to the bikes. We didn’t encounter many snakes but that’s part of what makes each encounter so precious.

Before packing everything back, I decide to have a quick look along the path. One doesn’t really use their ears much when looking for snakes. But as a birder, I am sensitive to small sounds. Something moving just behind me suddenly grabs my attention. What a surprise: right in front of me, a gorgeous juvenile Guangxi cat snake, or Rắn rào quảng tây, (Boiga guangxiensis) is slowly exploring the jungle. The species is fairly widespread in Vietnam, but finding one is always great. Meeting such a beautifully colored young individual like this is, however, much more rare. The colors on its body are truly amazing. This might be the longest-lasting photo session of the night. And would be a delight to observe it for hours, but the cat snake finally moves further into the vegetation, continuing its night exploration. It’s a signal for us to leave the jungle, at least for today.

What an evening! A list of all the species encountered isn’t the only way to measure if it was somehow “successful.” Actually, to me, any moment in nature is good and even without observation there’s value as every situation is an opportunity for learning.

That said, let’s be honest, finding some little “jungle treasures” offers an ineffable thrill. Rare species bring extra excitement and can contribute to making the night even more memorable. The quality of observations and their situations matter as well. Finding, for instance, a spider in the process of molting, is a fantastic moment. On this night, the young Boiga guangxiensis was definitely a highlight.

Discovering nature also involves simply enjoying what is there and appreciating the surprise of the moment without building too many expectations. Nature is good for reminding one to remain humble.

I can use the images I captured to raise awareness of the region’s important wildlife by sharing them online and at the workshops that I lead. Nowadays, scientists and professionals rely on the public for observations and data via collaborative websites as part of worldwide communities. Collecting data is also an integral part of learning more about a species and its geographical range as well as how ecosystems change over time. Exchanging data can even sometimes contribute to new discoveries. Contributing to those projects is a good way to assist with wildlife protection as knowledge is the first necessary step.

The road out of the jungle unfolds under a sky filled with stars. The moon is still young and shines in an incredible orange outfit. Its beauty is emphasized by small clouds that look like splashes of dark ink. Images of this incredible night remain vibrant in my mind. There will be many more to come.

The Mekong Delta Loses Sand Too Fast Due to Extraction, It's Time for a Sand Budget.

2022-12-09T10:00:00+07:00

Many people will be familiar with the dread when your income no longer covers your expenses; when you’ve exhausted your savings and are sinking ever deeper into debt. In the Mekong Delta, a similar downward spiral is happening. But it’s not the delta’s finances that are draining away — it’s the sand that sustains it. Not its economic stability that is being undermined, but its very foundations.

The Mekong is literally drowning in "sand debt": far more sand is being removed than is being replenished. Without a budget setting out how much sand can be extracted sustainably, this debt will turn into disaster.

If you only look at the headline figures, all seems well with Vietnam’s Mekong Delta and the connected Đồng Nai Delta — home to a combined 40 million people, growing cities, thriving economies, and a major regional rice bowl and seafood source. But a closer look reveals some real cause for alarm. The Mekong Delta is sinking. Saltwater is intruding ever further inland. The water table is dropping. All these come with significant costs to communities and nature, as infrastructure, livelihoods and the survival of species are negatively affected.

Blinded by the delta’s rapid economic growth and urbanisation over recent decades, decision-makers seem to have missed the fundamental threat to the delta: the fact that it is shrinking. The delta has already lost large areas of agricultural land to the sea, with studies estimating it is losing the equivalent of 1.5 football pitches every day. It’s like a company’s share price collapsing or the foundations of a family’s house crumbling. But few people, particularly decision-makers, are talking about it. When they do, they blame climate change, storms and sea level rise — the triggers, not the root cause of the problem.

Sand is being mined without limits

Everyone has turned a blind eye to the real cause: what is being lost beneath the murky waters of the Mekong River. No one is reading the balance sheets that show the delta has been massively overspending its annual sand "income" and digging deep into its ancient reserves.

Sand is essential to development, as it is used in land reclamation and to make concrete and asphalt. But hundreds of millions of tonnes of sand have been extracted unsustainably from the bottom of the Mekong and Bassac river channels — as well as likely similar amounts from the Đồng Nai — as if it were a free, infinite resource. At the same time, gargantuan amounts of sand have been trapped behind upstream hydropower dams in China, Laos and Thailand. This loss of natural capital has left the delta with insufficient resources to keep itself afloat — to replenish what is naturally distributed along the coast and keep the delta above the rising seas.

The future cost of this oversight is high and rising rapidly. Coastal and riverbank erosion is wiping away productive fields, houses, stretches of road and other critical infrastructure. In many areas, riverbeds are now three metres deeper than they were 25 years ago, weakening riverbanks and sucking saltwater deeper into the delta. Without their protective offshore sandbanks, mangrove forests are being washed away.

Erosion along the Mekong and in its delta is threatening critical infrastructure and ecosystems. Photo via Alamy.

Any auditor can see that the delta is facing ruin. It is hemorrhaging land faster and faster. Some areas are already deep in the red, having lost 50 centimeters of elevation over the past two decades, and these losses are mounting. When a delta loses land, it also starts losing freshwater, agricultural productivity, infrastructure and resilience. And eventually, people.

With an average elevation of less than one metre above sea level, the Mekong Delta is already extremely vulnerable to the worsening impacts of climate change. Its growing sand debt leaves it even more exposed to floods, droughts, storms and sea level rise. It heightens the risk of losing more of the ecosystems and biodiversity that underpin the delta’s societies and economies — from the mangroves that buffer its coasts to the fisheries that feed millions. It also raises the likelihood of eventually running short of sand for use in development. All this puts millions of livelihoods and billions of dollars at risk.

Using big data to save the Mekong Delta

But there is a path to sustainability. It starts with taking a long, hard look at sand. We must see it not just as an essentially free raw material for construction, but as an asset that provides priceless benefits to rivers and coasts, communities and cities, people and nature. We need to properly account for its primary role: as a raw material of the delta itself, that forms the very land beneath people’s homes, fields and factories.

This transformation in how we value sand is underway. Over the past three years, a series of groundbreaking scientific papers and media stories have underlined the role of sand in the existential challenges tens of millions of Vietnamese people are facing. The next step is to start monitoring sand in the Mekong, accounting for sand flow from upstream and extraction in the delta, and to use this to develop a sand budget.

This approach has been made possible by the deployment of innovative "multi-beam echo sounder" sonar technology, which allows scientists to quickly measure changes in a channel’s depth and shape, as well as track sand formations moving along the riverbed. For the first time, we can confidently estimate how much sand is entering the delta from upstream, how much is flowing along and being stored in the delta’s channels, and how much reaches the coast.

Dredged sand is transported in the Mekong Delta, Vietnam. The Mekong Delta is sinking due to unsustainable sand mining and the impacts of upstream dams. Photo by Josef Kubes via Alamy.

Now all we need is to gauge how much sand is being mined. Once again, technology is providing solutions. Satellite images can systematically record all sand barges operating in the delta’s channels, allowing for a rough evaluation of the total volume dug out of the riverbeds.

Then we can plug all this data into a computer and generate a "delta-wide sand budget" — exactly what the Mekong Delta and the regulators responsible for sustainably managing it need to tackle its burgeoning sand debt.

The world’s first delta-wide sand budget

By April 2023, the Viet Nam Disaster Management Authority, which is partnering in this project with WWF and the German government, will deliver the first ever delta-wide sand budget. Another team working in parallel will produce a river stability plan for the delta, measuring and modelling for the first time the changes triggered by sand mining across the Mekong Delta, with key recommendations for better regulation and enforcement.

Unlike in the world of finance, there is no way to simply forgive the sand debt that has built up over decades in the Mekong Delta. But these game-changing innovations offer decision-makers in government and industry the tools to determine how best to restore the delta’s sand balance sheet. They will be able to assess whether sand holds more value to people and nature trapped in buildings and reclaimed land, or flowing through channels and along the coast, offering free and effective protection from the impacts of climate change.

These tools come at a crucial moment, since demand for sand (and other aggregates used in construction) is expected to increase significantly over the next 30 years to support economic growth and meet rising demands for infrastructure. Some of this demand will be met by grinding rocks to manufacture sand, which can be done more sustainably now. But river mining will continue to be an important source of sand, with huge impacts if it is not rigorously regulated.

The Mekong is drowning in sand debt. Decision-makers must work with nature — with the natural dynamics of the river and its flow of water and sediments — to replenish what has been lost and start to rebuild the delta’s reserves. The development of a sand budget for the Mekong will finally allow governments and businesses to plan a sustainable path to a more resilient future; one based on using sand to rebuild the delta as well as building infrastructure on top of it.

This article was originally published on The Third Pole. Visit the original feature here.

Đắk Lắk Receives $2.2m in Financial Support to End Elephant Rides by 2026

2022-11-17T15:00:00+07:00

To be distributed between now and the end of 2026, the VND55 billion (US$2.2 million) provided by the Animals Asia Foundation (AAF) will be used to help tourism centers in Đắk Lắk Province become more elephant-friendly and cease all elephant-riding activities.

The money will support the operation of centers that provide care for elephants and offset lost profits among elephant owners and mahouts. Bathing and feeding the animals have been proposed as more ethical means of elephant tourism that don't cause the physical and emotional stress that rides do.

The concrete plans with financial support come after a 2020 commitment to end elephant rides made by province officials at a tourism conference. Previously, in 2018, all rides in Yok Đôn, Đắk Lắk's largest national park, were ordered to stop by 2023. Because the animals are accustomed to humans, they cannot be safely released into the wild, so the best option is to let them roam freely in the park and allow tourists to view them from a safe distance.

In addition to more humane treatment of the animals, the province is making efforts to curb poaching and the ivory trade. Last month, Đắk Lắk authorities held a conference titled "Tourism companies join hands to promote the image of Đắk Lắk – an elephant-friendly destination."

The event sought to educate participants on ivory regulations and the laws regarding wildlife items, based on the observation that members of the tourism sector, in addition to tourists, do not have sufficient knowledge of the sanctions on the trade and use of wild animals, including ivory and other items obtained from elephants. Their tail hair, for example, has emerged in recent years as a popular commodity prone to illegal interaction with wild elephants.

The short film Tháo Bành Cho Voi (Bring Down The Howdahs) via indie collective Phim của Quạ.

In 2017, the US government pledged US$24 million to help conserve elephants in Quảng Nam Province as more international organizations focus on protecting dwindling elephant populations around the world.

Many fear that all the efforts are too little, too late. Between 2009 and 2016, Đắk Lắk alone lost at least 23 wild elephants, approximately 25% of the total population. Nghệ An Province, meanwhile, is down to an estimated 14–16 wild individuals. Habitat loss is causing the animals to enter residential areas, exacerbating tensions between humans and the animals. As recently as the 1990s, Vietnam was home to 1,500-2,000 wild elephants but that number has plummeted to an estimated 124-148, primarily in the Central Highlands. Their loss represents not only a blow to the globe's biodiversity but also Vietnam's long and important relationship with voi, from the Trưng sisters to more recent agricultural use.

Xanh Hà Nội Aims to Plant 1m Trees to Improve Hanoi's Living Environment

2022-08-26T10:00:00+07:00

Amidst glooming effects of global warming, Xanh Hà Nội’s efforts since 2017 have played a crucial role in trailblazing a community-reliant framework for keeping Vietnamese cities green.

Environmental NGO Xanh Hà Nội was founded in 2017 with the primary goal of planting 1 million new trees. Now active for five years, the organization is still quietly but diligently making the capital greener everyday. The project is providing the densely populated capital with much-needed green spaces.

Planting more trees will help reduce air pollution and extreme heat, both of which are burning issues in the capital. Currently in Hanoi, the green area per capita is only one-fifths to one-tenths of the UN’s recommendation.

The trees used by Xanh Hà Nội come from nurseries and are selected carefully based on how each species might contribute to the local ambiance.

Nam Nguyễn, the founder of Xanh Hà Nội, shared with Saigoneer that he quit his job last year to become a full-time social activist advocating for sustainable development in Vietnam, as social activism has always been at the heart of his dream. Previously, after coming back from seven years abroad in the US, he worked as a consultant, as well as a scholarship mentor: “My prior jobs gained me access to an extensive network of motivated students who are also very dedicated to activism in Vietnam.”

A lot of planning goes into planting these trees. For one thing, Xanh has to consult thoroughly with local and regional governmental agencies to ensure that the green plan is consistent with larger urban planning visions. Urban planning is one of the main causes why trees are cut down in Hanoi, and Xanh wishes to conserve resources and avoid such potential changes.

Depending on the area, the organization also chooses different types of trees for their projects. To provide residents with healthy small snacks, fruit trees such as jackfruit are often prioritized in residential areas. On the other hand, common choices for trees in schools and other public spaces are poinciana or yellow tabebuia for a colorful touch.

As tree-planting groups always seek permission from local communities before planting, most Hanoians welcome this initiative with open arm.

Using a consistent crowdfunding method to fund their bi-weekly activities, the initiative is reliant on community efforts. Another way for Xanh to raise funds is by selling organic products such as honey from work communes in protected forest areas, giving individual donors a stronger incentive to contribute financially. Besides individual donations, the NGO has also partnered with various companies and organizations looking to enhance the environment and air quality in Hanoi to plant trees in charity campaigns.

To date, Xanh has planted approximately 10,000 trees in both central districts and suburban towns. If you want to contribute and perhaps have a tree planted under your name, visit Xanh Hà Nội's Facebook page for more information.

[Photos via Facebook page Xanh Hà Nội]

Saigon Students Win Science Contest Silver Medals for Bodhi Tree Leaf Teabags

2022-08-25T11:00:00+07:00

Sustainable teabags made from bodhi tree (Ficus religiosa) leaves earned Ngô Trần Thảo My and Nguyễn Thiên Ngân silver medals at an international event that fosters global awareness of environmental issues amongst secondary students.

My and Ngân, both Grade 11 students at Saigon's Gia Định High School, learned from international news sources about the destructive effect of microplastics that are found in a multitude of products including teabag filters. This awareness along with the knowledge that traditional teabags take a long time to decompose naturally inspired them to embark on the project "Studies on creating the tea filter bag from leaf veins of Ficus religiosa."

The pair selected bodhi trees, known as bồ đề in Vietnamese, to experiment with because it grows widely in Vietnam and already has various local ceremonial and decorative uses. After analyzing the leaves' chemical composition with the assistance of several testing centers to ensure they are safe for humans, they proceeded to develop a five-step process to turn them into teabags. After soaking, washing, cleaning and drying them, only the veins of the leaves remain which are then woven into teabags. They perfected the routine so that they can now create 50 teabags in two days.

My and Ngân presenting their project for the competition.

The pair spent over six months on the project while managing their regular highschool work and exam preparations. "Doing research helps us develop skills in teamwork, experimentation, presentation, rebuttal, in additional honing scienfitic thinking. This is truly a memorable milestone in our time as students," Thảo My explained in Vietnamese.

The annual GENIUS Olympiad event is held at the Rochester Institute of Technology in New York and "provides challenges and opportunities for secondary school students, to instill in them the skills and knowledge needed to be the citizens, leaders, scientists, artists, writers, engineers, and policy makers of the future," according to the organization. The virtual 2022 event featured 821 projects and 960 students from 60 countries with 599 of them receiving awards which include renewable scholarships.

In addition to Thảo My and Thiên Ngân, Vietnam received 28 total honors across creative writing, science, business and short film disciplines. Fifteen of those winners were from Gia Định High School.

[Photos via Thanh Niên]

Hanoi Students Create Green Material From Durian Rind to Aid Oil Spill Cleanup

2022-07-23T19:00:00+07:00

A group of university students has created an aerogel material from durian rind which can help clean up oil spills.

According to VnExpress, the all-girls trio, Ngô Thị Nhung, Vũ Thị Xuân and Đinh Hoàng Trang Nhung, comes from the Hanoi University of Science and Technology. They made their aerogel from the cellulose of durian husk. This material is hydrophobic and can adsorb oil, which makes it a promising biodegradable agent in oil spills cleanup.

From left to right: Đinh Hoàng Trang Nhung, Vũ Thị Xuân, Ngô Thị Nhung. Photo via VnExpress.

Most of the aerogel used in cleaning up spills now are inorganic, which makes them hard to dispose. That is what drove the girls to find an alternative material. They found that 60% of durian peels are cellulose — a compound with a variety of uses such as purifying water or turning solar energy to chemical fuels. From these peels, the group extracts cellulose powder, then forms the aerogel.

The group dubs their material A-SR, which stands for Aerogel-Sầu Riêng, or Durian Aerogel.

The group also built a contraption to facilitate the cleanup process. The machine resembles a belt sander, except the belt is stuffed with the durian aerogel that can adsorb oil on the water surface. Test runs showed that one gram of the gel can adsorb 42 grams of used oil or 34 grams of diesel.

The trio’s project was among the 100 student-led initiatives showcased at their university’s science fair. They aim to collaborate with the mechanical engineering team to improve the prototype.

[Top image uses photos from Giáo Dục Thời Đại and Vietnam Travel]

In Đà Lạt, Greenhouses Revolutionize Farming, but at What Environmental Cost?

2022-07-05T10:00:00+07:00

Plastic greenhouses in the city of Đà Lạt may protect farmers from the impacts of erratic weather, but the environmental toll of agri-plastics is building in the agriculture-dependent region.

Cam Ly landfill was, until it was shut down in 2020, the primary dumping ground for the city of Đà Lạt. Five kilometres from central Đà Lạt in the Central Highlands region, the landfill was the final destination for the majority of plastic used in agriculture in the hilltop locale. But in August 2019, heavy rain prompted an outpouring of trash, sending plastic sheeting from greenhouses and untreated agrichemical bags and bottles rushing downhill. The incident covered lowland farms in thousands of tons of waste.

Greenhouses cover approximately 2,425 hectares within Đà Lạt’s city limits — equivalent to more than 4,500 football pitches. Photo by Thịnh Doãn.

Đà Lạt is the capital of Lâm Đồng Province. The municipality is known for its temperate climate, rolling hills, pine trees and agriculture. Over the past two decades, plastic greenhouses have enveloped much of the landscape within the city and surrounding areas. They have increased agricultural production and raised farmers’ income. However, greenhouses are also contributing to rising temperatures, floods, pollution of waterways and the build-up of agri-plastic waste, with no formal system for recycling.

In the city’s Ward 12, greenhouses cover 83.7% of farmland. In wards 5, 7 and 8, they occupy more than 60%. Photo by Thịnh Doãn.

Discarded agricultural plastics in Đà Lạt’s Ward 5, where greenhouses cover more than 60% of agricultural land. Photo by Thịnh Doãn.

Plastic shield against a volatile climate

While greenhouses are expensive, they are a “mark of achievement” for many farmers, often lead to higher yields, and act as a “safety net against climate change,” says Nguyễn Châu Bảo, co-founder of Act Now, a Đà Lạt-based environmental non-profit. With increasingly unpredictable weather patterns in the region, greenhouses allow farmers to control the environment and shield crops from harsh conditions.

Plastic sheeting allows non-native plants, like tomatoes, to be grown all year, protected from heavy rains, humidity, hail and frosts. Heavy downpours can cause roots to become waterlogged, split tomatoes’ skin, and lead to bacterial infections in the plant. For this reason, the majority of tomatoes are grown inside greenhouses in Đà Lạt.

After dark, bulbs light up greenhouses in Đà Lạt to prompt overnight growth. Photo by Govi Snell.

Hiền, a farmer in Đà Lạt, says he relies on plastic sheeting to ensure a stable growing environment for his crop of flowers. He rents the land where he has a small greenhouse for six-month periods, so it is vital his crops come to harvest reliably within this time. From Hiền's roadside flower farm, greenhouses can be seen in every direction.

Hiền says that without a greenhouse rain would damage the buds of the flowers he grows. Once these flowers have bloomed, they will be packaged in plastic and sold to Hanoi and South Korea. Photo by Thịnh Doãn.

Workers cut and package flowers for sale inside a large greenhouse in Đà Lạt. Photo by Thịnh Doãn.

Ecological toll of plastic greenhouses

Despite the benefits for farmers, greenhouses have a heavy ecological impact on the region. Võ Xuân Hạo Khuyên, who was born in Đà Lạt in 1995, used to be able to see wide swaths of pines from her home. The green space has since disappeared.

“Right now it is just the white colour because all you see is the greenhouses,” she explains. The problems caused by rapid greenhouse development are easy to see, Khuyên adds, listing temperature increases, light pollution and floods.

Temperatures in Đà Lạt increased by between 1 and 1.5°C between 2008 and 2018, and the rise is expected to continue, according to statements from Vũ Ngọc Long, former director of the Ho Chi Minh City-based Southern Institute of Ecology, in a local news report. While urban development has played a role in the temperature rise, Long said that the immediate area surrounding a greenhouse is 3 to 5°C hotter than areas in similar climates without plastic-covered structures.

The area immediately surrounding greenhouses can be several degrees warmer than areas in similar climates without plastic-covered structures. Photo by Thịnh Doãn.

Plastic greenhouses prevent rain from being evenly absorbed into the earth. Photo by Thịnh Doãn.

While rising temperatures are a concern, floods have already had a severe impact on the region and are now a regular occurrence during the rainy season from May to October.

When raindrops hit the greenhouse, they cannot be absorbed by the soil below. Instead, says Khuyên (who has studied the sustainability problems created by greenhouses), the runoff from the tightly packed greenhouses creates streams that combine after heavy rain, flooding the city’s drainage system.

“We are a mountain city. We aren’t supposed to have floods, but at the end of the day we have floods, very heavy floods that even killed people,” Khuyên says.

Experts cited concrete paving, deforestation and the glut of greenhouses as primary causes of Lâm Đồng’s floods in a 2019 report on environmental disasters in Vietnam. Photo by Thịnh Doãn.

In August 2019, the damage from the severe floods that hit Đà Lạt and surrounding areas extended beyond swamping the land with trash from the landfill. More than 12,000 homes were flooded, 10,000 hectares of crops were damaged and 11 people died. In 2020, 44 people were forced to evacuate a Đà Lạt hotel when the structure became at risk of collapsing during a downpour. That same year, a runner died after being washed away by a flash flood during the Đà Lạt Ultra Trail marathon.

Districts downstream of Đà Lạt along the Cam Ly River which flows through the city are also impacted by the greenhouse-amplified flooding. During last year’s rainy season, areas of Đà Lạt and Đức Trọng District, approximately an hour’s drive from the capital city, flooded within 12 hours of heavy rain as the water level rose. Farmland was inundated, households were forced to relocate and sections of a national highway were submerged.

“Floods never used to appear in Đà Lạt,” says Phạm Trọng Phú, who grew up in Lâm Đồng Province and now works for SNV Netherlands Development Organisation, a non-profit with a base in Đà Lạt. “Many disasters have followed with the development of greenhouses.”

An alternative way to farm?

LVDM Organic Pilot Farm is experimenting with growing beefsteak tomatoes outdoors, but this year the crop failed after heavy rain hit the area in mid-March. “The rain came two months early… That’s climate change,” says Leonie Ha, the farm’s project manager. Photo by Thịnh Doãn.

Les Vergers du Mekong (LVDM) Pilot Organic Farm is located down a steep, dirt road in Đà Lạt’s Ward 3. With funding from LVDM as well as the GIZ (German development agency), the team of six running the farm can try eco-friendly methods without direct impacts on their livelihoods. Fruit is grown to be juiced and bottled for sale, and the only plastic sheeting to be found is a small covering that protects seedlings.

Although many farmers in the region have taken up greenhouse farming because of its stable yields, others believe the environmental toll of the plastic coverings outweighs the benefits.

Staff at LVDM are leaving the tomatoes to fully ripen before gathering the organic, fungus-resistant seeds for reuse. “We are allowed to fail,” Ha says. “[Most] farmers cannot do this kind of thing.” Photo by Thịnh Doãn.

Trần Thị Mỹ Phượng, a farmer who works at LVDM, waters beetroot seedlings. “The number of people doing [eco] farming like this is increasing slightly but the reality is that greenhouses [are growing] significantly faster,” she says. Photo by Thịnh Doãn.

Nguyễn Nhi is the farm manager at Rừng Thông Mơ Farm & Bistro, a winding 25-minute drive from central Đà Lạt through pines with sections occupied by greenhouses. During the dry season from November to April, Nhi says, heat is trapped inside the greenhouses, causing temperatures in surrounding areas to increase. Additionally, the moist atmosphere inside greenhouses is conducive for worms, which eat the vegetables, causing farmers to rely heavily on pesticides.

At Rừng Thông Mơ, food scraps are composted in these large plastic barrels for three months to be used as fertiliser. “I am pro natural farming because it’s not just good for the plants, it’s not just good for nature, but also for the people, for the farmer’s health,” says farm manager Nguyễn Nhi (right). Photo by Thịnh Doãn.

Lettuce is grown without plastic at Rừng Thông Mơ. Photo by Thịnh Doãn.

Rừng Thông Mơ has no plastic greenhouses. Instead, herbs and green leafy vegetables are grown using intercropping methods, and rice husks are burnt to deter pests. The farm produces little to no plastic waste, avoiding the harmful impact agri-plastics can have on soil health.

“Of course I want people to use fewer greenhouses but it’s hard because it comes with efficiency. You can make more money,” Nhi says. “It is hard to ask them to go back to the natural way of farming. I expect the number of greenhouses to double.”

Nguyễn Duy, co-owner of Rừng Thông Mơ, picks herbs at the farm. Photo by Thịnh Doãn.

Plastic waste is not recycled

Over time, due to use and UV exposure, plastic degrades and needs to be replaced. The majority of the plastic sheeting used for greenhouses in Đà Lạt is burnt or buried once it is no longer usable.

Nguyễn Hồng Quân, who grew up in Đà Lạt and is now director at the Institute for Circular Economy Development, a research unit within Vietnam National University in Ho Chi Minh City, says that currently no “holistic or systematic solution” is available to recycle agri-plastics in Lâm Đồng Province. The majority of agri-plastics end up in landfills.

“I think this is quite a big issue now. We see a lot of plastic waste from greenhouses,” Quân says, adding that the difficulty of managing plastic sheeting is compounded by farmers being dependent on greenhouses for their livelihoods.

Plastic sheeting used in agriculture gradually degrades and has to be replaced. Photo by Govi Snell.

Vietnam has no formal system for recycling plastic materials, despite a new environmental protection law that took effect in January. The mandate — which comes without funding — makes the country’s local governments responsible for sorting and recycling waste.

Miquel Angel sits on Vietnam’s Tourism Advisory Board and surveyed some landfills this April. He has not seen improvements in waste management and says trash is still being buried, burned or allowed to leak into the country’s waterways.

“This is a lot of talk,” he says of the new regulation. “Nobody is taking any action.”

Styrofoam seedling trays pile up at the side of the road in Đà Lạt. Most agri-plastics used in the region are not recycled. Photo by Govi Snell.

Plastic disintegrates next to a greenhouse in Đà Lạt. Photo by Govi Snell.

“Greenhouses are like single-use plastic, they should be banned,” says Paul Olivier, who has lived in Đà Lạt for 16 years and supports farmers with transforming waste into feed, fuel and fertiliser. Olivier explains that he sees plastic sheeting, styrofoam, and bottles and bags for chemical pesticides and fertilisers in Lâm Đồng’s streams, lakes and rivers, where fish often float lifeless at the surface.

Lan, the owner of a vựa phế liệu in Đà Lạt, says she rarely buys plastic sheeting and has no set price for greenhouse covers. Photo by Thịnh Doãn.

Informal waste collectors are the driving force behind the management of Vietnam’s plastic waste, approximately 27% of which is recycled. Waste pickers gather plastic bottles, cardboard and a variety of other discarded materials to sell at a local vựa phế liệu — a scrap collection centre where recyclables can be bought and sold.

At another informal recycling hub near a high density of greenhouses, used plastic sheets sell for a meagre VND10,000 (US$0.43) per kilogram. Photo by Govi Snell.

Action for change

Although not yet approved, Lâm Đồng Province’s Department of Agriculture and Rural Development has put forward a scheme for the management of greenhouse farming with specific goals set for 2025 and a vision for 2030. The document acknowledges that the province currently has no regulations on the management and construction of greenhouses, and that local authorities do not have effective solutions to lessen the environmental impacts of greenhouses.

Nguyễn Thanh Thảo Nhi (left) and Nguyễn Châu Bảo (right) are co-founders of Act Now, an environmental non-profit in Dalat. “Agriculture is one of the biggest factors that contributes to environmental degradation here,” says Bảo. “Greenhouses create a lot of problems.” Photo by Thịnh Doãn.

The government wishes to control the proportion of greenhouse area in agricultural land to below 40% in all of Đà Lạt’s 12 wards. All greenhouses illegally built on forest land, ecologically sensitive areas, and historic, scenic and culturally significant land will be cleared away by 2025. By 2030, the government also wants to upgrade substandard greenhouses, manage greenhouse construction, and build new modern greenhouses in the province.

At trash cleanups, members of Act Now chant, “Đà Lạt is our home, not a landfill.” Photo courtesy of Act Now.

“I really want to look at the positive side,” says Bảo of Act Now. “It has to be a community change, a very big systemic change if you want to see a reduction in plastic waste or agricultural waste. I think it is the biggest problem we need to solve.”

This article was originally published on The Third Pole under the Creative Commons BY NC ND licence.

Scuba Diving at Nha Trang Island Temporarily Banned Due to Poor Coral Health

2022-06-29T10:24:13+07:00

Hòn Mun, a 5-square-kilometer square island about 10 kilometers off the coast of Nha Trang, will be closed to swimmers and divers indefinitely to protect the area's severely damaged coral.

Officials announced the ban on Monday noting it was to "evaluate the condition of the sensitive area so that an appropriate plan to enact the sea conservation area" could be made. Coral cover on the sea bed has fallen from 60% in 2020 to 50% recently. Visitors to the area in the past week have observed that 70–80% of the coral in the area is now dead.

The length of the ban has not been decided upon, while scientists say they need to investigate the cause of the coral death. Climate change, recent storms, pollution, illegal dredging and construction, irresponsible fishing, and the activity of divers and swimmers have all been suggested as causes, but there is no consensus on the primary culprit, nor the most effective means to restore the marine ecosystem.

Some recreational divers are critical of the announced ban, however. One diver told AFP that "swimming and diving activities were the least influence on the coral reefs, compared to other activities." They argue that if recreational visitors were truly the problem, the area would have improved during the recent pandemic. This did not happen. They suggest unmitigated and illegal fishing boats in the area are to blame, and the ban will do nothing to stop them.

Many point to Thailand's decision to close famed Maya Bay to all activities for nearly three years to protect the area as a model to follow. They sacrificed economic gains in the short term by strictly enforcing a ban on all recreational and commercial activity in the area in hopes it will result in an enduring ecosystem for generations to come.

Unfortunately, the attention and plans seem sorely overdue to many knowledgeable of the area. "From 1998-1999, I stood in front of hundreds of oceanographers to warn about the possible disappearance of coral ecosystems in Hòn Mun in particular and Nha Trang Bay in general because of the impact of people," Nguyễn Tấn Thành, Director of Turtle Drive Co., Ltd, told the news source.

Hòn Mun is part of the first and only protected marine area in Vietnam today that has been assessed by the World Wildlife Fund (WWF). It is included in the Nha Trang Bay Marine Reserve which covers 160 square kilometers of surface water and islands.

[Top image via Thanh Niên]

In Ninh Thuận, a Bamboo Scientist Builds the 'Great Green Wall' to Protect the Soil

2022-06-21T09:00:00+07:00

In Ninh Thuận Province, not far from the South-Central Coast, Dr. Diệp Thị Mỹ Hạnh, a botanist, is growing a "wall" of bamboo.

The protective corridor, aptly named "La Grande Muraille Verte" (The Great Green Wall), helps fight soil erosion and climate change. It’s an important effort to improve the local environment as Ninh Thuận's unfavorable geographical location and severe deforestation have led to degraded land and poor conditions for agricultural production.

Dr. Diệp Thị Mỹ Hạnh is a world-renowned botanist, specializing in bamboo. In her Phú An bamboo village, located around 40km from Saigon, she collected over 300 varieties of the plant, the vast majority of which are Vietnamese. For La Grande Muraille Verte, she used a specific kind of thorny bamboo, which is native to dry regions and therefore specifically suited to grow in this location. Particularly fast-growing, the variety is well-suited to building this green wall.

Once complete, the bamboo wall will block the wind, making sure that the fertile top layer of soil won’t blow away with every gust while the bamboo's roots will create a network to hold the soil in place. Growing the bamboo will also contribute to the creation of local microclimates that help to bring back life to the degraded landscapes.

Next to the wall, Dr. Hạnh is performing several sustainable experiments to increase agricultural production in the region without the use of any agrochemicals such as pesticides or herbicides. Together with the late Jacques Gurgand, she sets up nine testing plots where bamboo is grown under different conditions. The blocks are either covered with crops (beans) or degradable material (mulch), or left uncovered. The experiments' second variable is the irrigation method: the plots are watered as usual in the region, watered locally, or not watered at all. Dr. Hạnh is keeping track of the growth of vegetation on the plots (both the bamboo and the beans) to see which effect the different measures have.

Her findings are valuable for the local community in general and for the farmers in particular. Dr. Hạnh describes how locals were initially hesitant to participate in her experiments as the benefits of the wall and the plots weren't very clear to them. But now that they see how her work is increasing soil fertility and water retention, they are happy to learn more. The insights gained have the potential to improve the lives of thousands if not millions of people.

Dr. Diệp Thị Mỹ Hạnh's efforts have made her a phenomenon in the world of bamboo. In 2010, she received the UNDP Equator Prize for her efforts. This year, she’s planning to present her findings from Ninh Thuận Province to the global community at the World Bamboo Congress. Saigoneer had the privilege to accompany Dr. Hạnh to the site of her wall and soil experiments to learn more about her work, have a look through the documentary below:

Video produced by Annigje Jacobs and Brice Godard.

Vietnamese Students Win Earth Prize for Dragon Fruit Peel Biodegradable Sanitary Pads

2022-06-15T09:00:00+07:00

A trio of Vietnamese high schoolers claimed the top prize in the environmental awareness competition The Earth Prize 2022 thanks to their project which turned dragon fruit peels into biodegradable sanitary pads.

The winning group, named Team Adorbsies, consists of Trần Quỳnh Anh, a 15-year-old student from Ho Chi Minh City; and 17-year-old Bùi Tú Uyên and 16-year-old Lương Anh Khánh Huyền from Hanoi. They beat 650 teams from 516 schools in 114 countries and areas to clinch the top honor and US$100,000 from The Earth Foundation, an NGO in Switzerland. Their project focuses on the creation of “Adorbsy” environmentally friendly sanitary pads made from dragon fruit peels.

The trio did trials on bamboo and banana peels, but were surprised to discover the lack of academic knowledge on the physical-chemical properties of dragon fruit. Uyên, who's in charge of technology, shared that Adorbsy makes use of the fiber and pectin in the peel to craft a product with promising absorption potential. Back in 2019, research by Dr. Trương Thị Cẩm Trang found that dragon fruit peels have higher concentrations of pectin than citrus peels. Her team explored ways to turn peels into biodegradable bags to be used instead of plastic ones.

Image via The Earth Prize.

Quỳnh Anh told VnExpress: “The name Adorbsies, meaning cute things, stemmed from our objective to promote the idea that 'cute little products' can make 'great impacts' on alternating the ways people perceive environmental problems.” Huyền emphasized their goals not only to realize the idea of eco-friendly menstrual pads — as they are virtually non-existent in the Vietnamese market — but also to use the money to launch a campaign encouraging females of ethnic minorities to use sanitary pads to help improve gynecological health.

Inspired by a previous social campaign where Vietnamese people "rescued" unsold dragon fruits due to a drop in sales during the pandemic, the team came up with the idea to leverage cheap and available resources and turn them into an environmentally friendly sanitary product for women. As Thời Đại reported, through this project, the team wanted to normalize the discussion of menstruation, which is usually regarded as taboo.

The Earth Prize is a competition seeking environmentally sustainable solutions that have real-world impacts. It's open to students between 13 and 19 years old from schools around the world. The top prize is a US$100,000 grant, awarded to the winning team and their institution; three runner-ups will each receive US$25,000; and the best advisor/educator will win US$25,000.

The Earth Prize is organized by The Earth Foundation, a Swiss NGO with the goal of awakening, empowering, and galvanizing the youth in actions for environmental sustainability.

[Top photo via Thời Đại]

Award-Winning Children's Book on Conservation to Release Sequel Tomorrow

2022-06-10T11:00:00+07:00

Saving H'non: Chang and the Elephants, a sequel to the critically acclaimed children’s book by Trang Nguyễn, is scheduled to hit shelves on June 11 following the success of Saving Sorya: Chang and the Sun Bear.

Trang Nguyễn, an award-winning Vietnamese conservationist and the founder of local conservation NGO WildAct, currently holds numerous awards for her contribution to wildlife protection and animal welfare. Both books feature art by Jeet Zdung, a Vietnamese illustrator whose artworks have been featured in multiple international publications.

Saving Sorya: Chang and the Sun Bear (Chang Hoang Dã: Gấu) follows the protagonist Chang, a young conservationist, on her journey to rescue and return a sun bear to the jungle. In 2021, the same year of its release, the graphic novel received the highest-tier prize of The Vietnam National Book Award, and praise from Vietnamese and foreign critics for its impact on raising awareness about wildlife conservation among local children.

An excerpt from Saving H'non. Images via Facebook user Lê Mỹ Ái.

The sequel, Saving H'non: Chang and the Elephants (Chang Hoang Dã: Voi), is inspired by the author’s own experience. The story continues with another journey by Chang, this time with a mahout named Wat, to help H’Non reintegrate into the wild. H’Non is a 60-year-old elephant who used to live in the jungle of Vietnam's Central Highlands but was kidnapped at a young age and underwent harsh training to transport heavy construction materials. As she grew old and weak, the abuse continued as she was exploited by the tourism industry to carry visitors, to the point her limbs and back were broken.

Kim Đồng, the book’s Vietnamese publishing house, has announced an upcoming webinar on June 11 to celebrate the launch of the sequel and a new edition of the first book. Trang Nguyễn and Jeet Zdũng, the co-author of the books, will join to share their thoughts on wildlife conservation. The English version of Saving H'non, according to Macmillan, has been scheduled for release on March 16, 2023.

Readers can pre-order Chang Hoang Dã: Voi on the Kim Đồng website prior to the official launch.