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| A sampan from the Hue area, probably much like those discussed here. Source: Junk Blue Book*. (Click any image to enlarge) |
The romanticization of
traditional lifestyles is an insidious form of prejudice, one that leads to
assumptions no less false and potentially no less damaging than racial
prejudice. There's an assumption of something pure and right in traditional
folkways that is lost when such ways are abandoned for modern/Western ways.
It's little different from the old "noble savage" meme, which we've
largely rejected in name, but which remains a strong theme in Western culture
in the form of romanticizing supposedly more "peaceful" lifestyles
that are "more in tune with the natural world," (in spite of the
constant states of warfare that have been observed in many tribal cultures; in
spite of smallpox, frequent childbirth deaths, illiteracy, et al, as being quite natural), and uncritically accepting,
idealizing, ancient-and/or-Eastern "wisdom" that is often unwise in
the sense that it is unsupported by science and often demonstrably untrue and harmful.
I acknowledge myself among such offenders
– after all, Indigenous Boats is my
blog, created and written because of my fascination with and appreciation for the
boats and boating-related activities and peoples of non-Western – and especially,
preindustrial (or should I say nonindustrial?)
– cultures. I certainly can't shake
the notion that there's something attractive about traditional, preindustrial
folkways – in spite of the fact that, when given the chance, most preindustrial
people eagerly adopt many, if not most, of the ways and material benefits of Western/industrial
culture.
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| Hue area sampan (type HUBC-1a in the Junk Blue Book) |
So the sampan dwellers of Tam
Giang Lagoon, in central coastal Vietnam, are a good object lesson about the relative
attractions, to those directly affected by the choice, of a natural, traditional,
or "primitive" lifestyle versus a modern, commercially-based one.
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| Tam Giang Lagoon (Source: DaCosta and Turner*) |
Tam Giang Lagoon, near the city
of Hue, is the largest lagoon in Southeast Asia – about 70 km long, fed by a
number of rivers, and with two narrow openings to the South China Sea.
Historically, it was home to highly productive fisheries of many species, and
as recently as 1985, some 100,000 individuals lived there year-round on about
10,000 sampans, one family per boat. If I have correctly identified in the Junk Blue Book* the type of boat in use
there in the early 1960s, these boats were rigged with lugsails, ranged in
length from 22 to 46 feet, in beam from 4.3 to 6.5 feet, and typically had a
laden draft of just 1.6 feet. Today, almost all are powered by inboard engines.
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| A van of sampans in Tam Giang Lagoon (DaCosta and Turner) |
Sampan dwellers were mobile
fishers, relying on hook-and-rod and dip-net gear for a mainly subsistence living,
with surplus catch being sold, usually direct to the consumer, in local markets
around the lagoon. Groups of thirty to fifty sampans, their families often
related, would travel together to fish different areas of the lagoon and gather
near one another in floating communities called vans.
This was hardly the idyllic life
that it might appear. Although the origins of the sampan dwellers are disputed,
it seems clear that they were refugees from other parts of Vietnam, who took to
the water because there was no farmland available in the region. DaCosta and
Turner* describe them as "marginalized," and state that "The sampan
dwellers tend to have low incomes, are landless, lack accessibility to
government services such as health and formal education, and have poor living
conditions." Furthermore, "They are scorned by land-living…society in
general, who consider them…poor and uneducated. In turn, the sampan dwellers
consider themselves isolated…." The sampan life even had serious spiritual
drawbacks, because "Being landless…means, among other things, that
families cannot bury their dead in permanent burial grounds, considered essential
in Vietnamese society to ensure a successful after-life." Although I speculate,
this philosophical weakness of their lifestyle might have had a negative psychological
impact on sampan dwellers continually worried about life after death.
Prior to and during the Second
Indochina War (i.e., "the" Vietnam War, to Americans), land-dwellers
around the lagoon began staking claims in the lagoon by constructing fixed-gear
fishing installations such as fish traps, weirs, and corrals and permanent
dip-nets. Although these installations had no legal sanction, they
proliferated, excluding the legally- and socially-impotent sampan dwellers from
areas of the lagoon. Following the war, these permanent installations expanded
rapidly, with aquaculture facilities added to the mix.
Eventually, privately-owned fixed-gear
facilities covered such large areas of the lagoon that open fishery areas
became severely restricted. The density of aquaculture operations also had
negative effects on water quality and on the natural flow of water through the
lagoon, further reducing the wild catch (and causing health and productivity problems
for aquaculturists as well).
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| The lagoon's fixed fishing facilities and aquaculture pounds are largely tended with small sampans propelled through the shallow waters with a pole. (Source: Truong Van Tuyen, et al) |
After a typhoon in 1985 killed
600 around the lagoon – including many sampan dwellers – the Vietnamese
government embarked on a program to resettle sampan dwellers to the land. The
goals of the program were not only to reduce their vulnerability to natural
disasters, but also to integrate them into the larger society and raise their
standard of living. Entirely new villages were established solely for former
sampan dwellers. Land was allocated to families, and partial funding provided
for the construction of permanent homes.
These policies were far from
ideal in their implementation. The land allocated was often marginal for
agriculture, and the provision of credit for home construction was often
inadequate and subject to political favoritism.
Nonetheless, some 90 percent of
sampan dwellers came ashore, enticed by the chance to become landowners. Former
sampan dwellers began establishing their own fixed-gear fishing and aquaculture
facilities, farming terrestrially, and engaging in a variety of other land-based
enterprises, while some of them also maintained their sampans for mobile fishing
during the season when their time was not taken up by land-based agriculture. The
former sampan dwellers were encouraged to join social and economic
organizations and, as landed citizens, attained political and social parity in
these groups and in society at large. They played a role, for example, in
negotiated efforts to rationalize the location, size, and spacing of fixed-gear
fishing and aquaculture installations. These efforts achieved success in
improving flushing and water quality in the lagoon and establishing a fairer
allocation of sunken lands both for landed citizens and remaining sampan
dwellers.
Although DaCosta and Turner found
significant disparities among the former sampan dwellers in the success of
their adaptation to land-based living, they are, by almost any objective
measure, generally better off than previously. They are now integrated into
state educational and healthcare systems, are active in the larger economy, and,
especially, are accepted into Vietnamese cultural life. In the words of one former
sampan dweller:
"In general, I feel my life is much easier since I have been on land. Life on the boat is isolated. Now I have more friends, and my kids can go to school, and it is much easier for me to make a living… I feel that I have stronger ties with the members of the village than on the boat."
Another former sampan dweller reported
that he had, in the authors' words, more "free time…to spend with his
friends and neighbours. This allowed him to build stronger ties with other
village members and, in turn, to gain information to aid his livelihood
development." Those stronger ties included the pooling of resources among former sampan dwellers to finance the construction of individually-owned fixed-gear fishing and aquaculture installations -- something they might have done previously, had not their isolation discouraged such cooperation.
There's something sad in the
loss of a traditional way of life – but that sadness seems to be mainly for those not
living it. It is true that that loss was forced upon the sampan dwellers by
external changes – especially by their exclusion from formerly accessible areas
of the lagoon by the growth of privately-owned fixed-gear fishing and
aquaculture installations. But to ask that the sampan dwellers be
"allowed" to retain their traditional lifestyle unchanged by the
modern world is essentially to ask that the modern world stop changing – and this
is obviously a vain request. In the case of the sampan dwellers, their lot was
made easier by humane government policies designed to incorporate them into the
larger society rather than to marginalize them further. And that may be the
best outcome to hope for for many traditional societies that will, in the future, be placed
under pressure by inevitable changes in the modern societies that surround them.
*Sources
Elsa DaCosta, Sarah Turner, Negotiating changing livelihoods: The sampan
dwellers of Tam Giang Lagoon, Viet Nam, Geoforum,
38(1) 190-206 (2007)
Truong Van Turen, Derek
Armitage, Melissa Marschke, Livelihoods
and co-management in the Tam Giang lagoon, Vietnam, Ocean and Coastal
Management, 2010
G. Levasseur, J.M. Lamperin, H.
Le Neel, L. Chambaud, The Sampan Dwellers
of the Vi Da District (Hue, 1993). Results of a survey preliminary to
humanitarian aid intervention, 1994
Junk
Blue Book: A Handbook of Junks of South Vietnam, 1962
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