Viet Endangered Narratives

31/08/2026

Armour, hair, and glass — all of it smaller than your fingernail.

A shell you can see straight through. A face buried under pale bristles. Antennae longer than the body they belong to. Wing cases that hold light like polished stone.
The transparent rim belongs to a tortoise beetle: its wing cases and shield are expanded outward into a flattened, see-through skirt that it can clamp down against the leaf, leaving nothing for an ant or a bird to grip. The velvety ones aren't furry at all — what looks like hair is a dense coat of tiny scales and setae, laid down in patterns that break up the outline of a body sitting still on bark. And the long-antennaed ones carry their eyes notched around the antennal bases, wrapping the socket in a curve.

Beetles account for roughly a quarter of all described animal species. Eight of them here, eight different solutions to the same problem: how to survive being small.

📷 Hoàng Xiếc

30/08/2026

Learning to see our wild neighbours

Following in the footsteps of three young Vietnamese directors, we journey into the heart of Vân Long Nature Reserve, where people and langurs share the same living space.

At VEN, we are happy to see our archive put to meaningful use - supporting a conservation story while encouraging young Vietnamese filmmakers to keep pursuing their passion.

Through their film, Thiện Trường, Thanh Hằng, and Trí Bon invite us to see the langurs not as distant wildlife, but as neighbours. We enter nature to observe, to breathe, and to reconnect with ourselves. Yet, as we watch them, they are watching us too.

From afar, the langurs quietly sense our presence - our calm, our peace, and our disturbance. Perhaps this is what the film gently asks us to consider: while we observe nature, can we also learn to respect its boundaries?

Through their film, years of quiet observation, patience, and love are passed forward to new audiences. And that is what VEN strongly believe in: how conservation stories continue to grow: from one person to another, from one generation of storytellers to the next - inviting us all to look closer, care deeper, and remember that this beautiful space was never ours alone.

🎬 Watch the full film and step into the world of the langurs:

Enjoy the videos and music you love, upload original content, and share it all with friends, family, and the world on YouTube.

29/08/2026

We all know the feeling when someone gets too close. When our personal space is ignored, we instinctively want to step back.

But do we offer wildlife the same respect?

Hili’s photo series “The Invisible Line” explores how human behavior sometimes can cross a line for animals. We understand that every person has a space they feel comfortable in, yet when we encounter wild animals, we sometimes forget that they have this invisible line too.

A camera, a curious visitor, or simply getting too close can turn a peaceful encounter into an uncomfortable one, even if it might be unintentionally. These animals may not be able to tell us where their boundaries lie, but their behaviour often does.

Respecting wildlife means allowing animals to remain wild — free to move, behave, and live without being approached, touched, fed, or disturbed for our entertainment. Giving them space helps protect their natural behaviour and allows us to appreciate them as they truly are, rather than expecting them to perform for us.

✨ Let Hili invite you to take a closer look at the invisible lines between us and wildlife. Her series reminds us that respecting nature also means respecting the space of the animals we come to see — even when they cannot ask us to step back. Sometimes, the most meaningful way to connect with wildlife is simply to let them be.

📷 Photo Series by Hili
🤝 Supported by VEN Team

28/08/2026

Out on our bird tour. Late afternoon, low sun, and a lot of waiting for something to come within range. The best moments came when we stopped moving — a pair working the shallows, close enough to see every marking.

26/08/2026

What remains after all those moments we shared here?

Joanne came to VEN to make a documentary, but she left something far beyond a film.

VEN believe that our presence can be a voice for nature, for the environment, for the unspoken. And sometimes, that voice does not have to be loud. Sometimes, it is soft enough to simply ask for your name, to sit beside you, to listen, and to leave us in awe of how even the softest voice can leave a resounding echo.

Now we finally understand, what remains. Not only a documentary in our archive, but memories in our hearts.

Joanne now becomes a part of us, in a way that no one can take away. Thank you, Joanne. Your presence still lingers here at VEN, even though you have long since left. We truly hope to see you again, somewhere along the way. There will be heavy days. But when they come, we will remember a girl who lived and loved like the waves - moving gently, freely, and always forward.

A soft voice, a lasting echo. 🍃

24/08/2026

Most people see the ocean from the top. A flat blue line, a horizon, maybe a wave.
Underneath is something else entirely — reef building itself over decades, fish moving in patterns you only notice if you stay still long enough, light shifting with every meter of depth.

Worth getting in the water for.🌊

23/08/2026

“Can you hear me? Open your eyes. What’s your name? Squeeze my hands.”

A pair of hands checks for a response. Someone scans the surroundings. Another person calls for help.

"Danger. Response. Send for help. Airway. Breathing. CPR. Defibrillation."

Step by step, our VEN team practised what to do when a field day suddenly becomes an emergency.

A bee sting. A snake bite. A jellyfish sting. A fall on a steep trail. Someone pulled unconscious from the water. Different situations, different risks - but the same need to stay calm, assess carefully, and act quickly.

We learned how to recognise what needs attention first: airway, breathing and circulation before injuries such as severe bleeding, burns or broken bones. We practised the questions that can tell us whether someone is responsive, and when to call 115 for emergency medical assistance.

This is what first-aid training looks like for us: not simply memorising instructions, but rehearsing the moment when there may be no time to hesitate.

Because forests, rivers and the sea are where we go to tell stories. And when we go there together, everyone’s safety becomes part of the story.

A big thank you to Surf Life Saving – Royal Life Saving Society Australia for equipping our team with essential first aid knowledge and practical skills, and for sharing the belief that everyone can be a lifesaver. 🛟

21/08/2026

Between 2006 and 2016 the peninsula lost 42% of its reef, from 80.9 hectares down to 46.9. The northern side took the worst of it.

Hon Sup sits on the other side of the mountain, out of the river's plume, on the widest reef platform Son Tra has. It held on.

By 2019, 19.7% of the Bai But–Hon Sup stretch was in good condition. Peninsula-wide: 7.9%.

Protected on paper since 2007. What actually kept it alive was geography — and volunteers cutting net off coral by hand. This June, nearly 100 kg came off Hon Sup in one morning.

Full story on our blog → https://www.vietendangerednarratives.org/post/hon-sup-1-28-hectares-and-the-healthiest-reef-on-son-tra

Photos by VEN & DucAnh

19/08/2026

What does it feel like to look at the world with tender eyes?

A small room, a few chairs pulled close together, and a simple TV glowing in the middle of it all - and slowly, people began to gather. A young person looking to step beyond their comfort zone, a trekking guide curious to learn something new for the trails, an adventurous soul searching for another perspective. We came together for Joanne’s film, but somewhere between the first frame and the last, we found ourselves looking at more than a documentary: a chance to look at the wild from Joannes’s eyes.

For VEN, this gathering was also an experiment.

Could a small room in Đà Nẵng become a place where young people stop scrolling, sit beside strangers, watch something closely, and allow themselves to wonder?

That evening, the answer felt like a quiet yes. We believe in the creativity and individuality of our people. We believe that when people are given the space to look, question, and create in their own way, something begins to move.

Joanne, thank you for showing us that a gentle voice can still change the way we see the world. She reminded us look closely - not with possession, but with empathy; not with assumption, but with curiosity. To pause long enough to see a life beyond what first meets the eye. What might seem like a pair of cold eyes becomes a living being, carrying its own character, rhythm, and quiet right to remain wild. Perhaps to look with tender eyes is to meet even the coldest eyes with tenderness - to wonder without taking, and to let another being exist on its own terms.

We came for her film "The Search for Cold Eyes", but each of us found something different: a question, a reflection, perhaps a little more tenderness for the lives sharing this world with us.

17/08/2026

Sea grapes.

Looks like a tiny bunch of green pearls, and it's one single cell.
“Caulerpa lentillifera” grows in warm, shallow coastal waters across the Indo-Pacific.

What looks like a small plant with roots, stems and beads is actually one giant cell with thousands of nuclei inside — no internal walls dividing it up. It just keeps growing, sending out runners across the seafloor.

People eat it raw. It pops between your teeth and tastes like the ocean. Some call it green caviar.

Algae doing more than we give it credit for.