When the river runs dry
Cambodia’s silent heartbeat is slowing. On the banks of Cambodia’s largest lake, fields that would normally be flooded with rich water lie fallow under the sun. Inches from the stagnant water, painted eyes stare from the prows of garish boats, their pilots sifting through baskets of snails. In years gone by, their nets would have been sagging with freshwater fish.
For the fishermen who ply their trade on Cambodia’s Tonle Sap, these are desperate times. And desperate times call for desperate measures.
“I have no choice, I decided to use machines to find fish even though I know it is illegal,” admitted Sothea as he sat on the wooden floor of his floating home. There are deep cracks between the floorboards, kept afloat by barrels and tyres. Some of the cracks are so wide you can see the dull glint of the water beneath.
Evie Breese
