Drought Season in Cambodia: A Floating Village Stranded on Dry Land
At the bow, a boy becomes ballast — a quiet counter to the river’s tilt.
Cambodia is currently facing its worst drought in decades. Water levels have dropped so dramatically that you can now stand in the middle of the Siem Reap River with the water barely reaching your knees.
During my visit, I made my way to Chong Khneas, the closest and most tourist-friendly floating village in the Siem Reap area. I’d heard about the drought, but I wasn’t sure what I’d find when I got there.
Chong Khneas sits at the junction where the Siem Reap River flows into Tonlé Sap Lake. The region is part of a seasonal floodplain — shrinking during the dry months and swelling again with the rains. It has served as a vital food source for the people here since the days of the Angkorian civilization.
As a tourist destination, Chong Khneas is lined with tour boats offering hour-long rides through the village for around $20 USD per person. The boats leave from the river and take roughly 20 minutes to reach the lake, where the floating village begins.
A post meant to measure flood levels now rises from a patch of dry sand, surrounded by scrub. In June 2016, the water was at least ten meters lower than normal, far below the midpoint where it should have reached.
A few thousand people live in Chong Khneas, though many have left in recent years due to the drought. Contrary to what some might assume, the village structures genuinely float on the water — they’re not built on stilts.
This floating city has its own rhythm of life, with schools, shops, and even a gas station drifting with the current. Before boarding the tour, I was warned about a common detour: the boat driver might take us to an “orphanage” and pressure us to buy overpriced food for the children — conveniently sold at their own store.
I can’t say for sure if it’s a scam, as many online reports suggest, but I personally feel more comfortable donating through vetted NGOs and community-based organizations. With so many children working in the area, I couldn’t shake the feeling that these setups do little to keep kids in school or fed. It wouldn’t surprise me if the food we were encouraged to buy simply ends up back on the shelf, waiting for the next tourist.
If you’d like to help, here’s a list of trusted ways to support the local community.
The entire village floats on water, with fishing as its main livelihood. Homes can be moved—literally—to wherever the catch is better.
It was heartbreaking to see so many children working in tourism — and hard not to feel complicit by simply being there.
Along the banks of the Siem Reap River, a man and a boy — father and son, perhaps — quietly prepare their fishing net.
As tourist boats glide past, a boy plays in water barely 30 centimeters deep.
Water buffalo are a common sight in this part of Cambodia.
In recent years, the rainy season hasn’t brought the rain it once did.
Children play outside their floating home, while the adults rest in hammocks inside.
A man carries motorcycle batteries to the floating mechanic for a recharge. Most boats here run on repurposed motorcycle engines.
In some areas, the water is so low that sandbanks now rise above the surface.
The process of actually catching fish is simple, but the aftermath takes much more time and effort. Because of the drop in the water level, the Tonlé sap naturally carries away thousands of fish. The fishermen simply place cone-shaped nets into the water from their floating houses and then lift the net as soon as seconds later. - Wikipedia
A boy pushes his boat through the knee-deep water, navigating with ease where engines can’t.
Part of the tour included a stop at a crocodile farm — home to the critically endangered Siamese crocodile, kept beneath a floating bar and souvenir shop.
A fisherman casts his net, hoping for a catch to sell at the market.
A boy plays aboard a tourist boat, waiting for the next wave of visitors.
A child stands at the river’s edge, watching a tourist boat come in — two worlds meeting for a moment.
