The butcher's stall is open before dawn.
At 3 a.m., Mr. Le Xuan Thuy laboriously carried a large slab of pork, transported from the slaughterhouse, to Bac Son market. He placed the meat firmly on the stainless steel table, pulled up a sharp knife, and quickly flipped, selected, cut, and divided it into portions. He set aside the pork leg, neatly arranged the pork belly pieces. Ribs, lean meat, and bones were sorted into their respective parts. Having been in the pork selling business for over 15 years, Mr. Thuy's hands were quick, precise, and decisive in cutting the meat, making it instantly appealing to buy.

At dawn, Xuan Thuy pork stall is ready to welcome customers. Photo: KIEU DIEM
Under the lamplight, Mr. and Mrs. Thuy worked and hurried each other to ensure timely delivery to breakfast shops. They carefully recorded every detail: what kind of meat customers ordered, how many kilograms, whether the order was delivered, whether payment was made or not. The portions of meat for regular customers were set aside on the stall; some were waiting to be picked up, and the rest Mr. Thuy delivered.
Watching Mr. Thuy easily cut, fillet, and portion the meat, I asked to try, but the meat I cut wasn't straight, the grain was uneven, and the lean and fat parts weren't clearly defined. Mr. Thuy looked at it and said, "Customers won't buy it if you cut it like that; it looks bad, you can't see the meat clearly." In the end, I had to buy that portion of meat and eat it at home. A small experience, but enough to understand that behind a neat meat stall each morning lies skill, experience, and even the discerning tastes of customers.
After sorting the meat, Mr. Thuy hurried off to deliver it to his regular customers. At the stall, his wife sold retail and prepared the meat according to customer requests. Some bought braised pork belly, others minced lean pork, some asked for small pieces of ribs, and others requested that the meat be ground for fillings. For the minced meat, Mrs. Thuy even rubbed it with salt and washed it thoroughly before putting it into the grinder. She said, "Doing it this way allows customers to cook it immediately upon taking it home; the meat is more fragrant and cleaner. Now, it's not just about weighing accurately and selling at the right price, but also about saving customers time."
At 4 a.m., the vegetable stalls begin to light up. The rumble of motorbikes loaded with goods pulls up. Ms. Nguyen Thi Thu Van hunches over, pulling baskets of vegetables towards her stall, turning over each bundle, picking out wilted and damaged leaves, and arranging them neatly. “If the vegetables aren’t fresh, customers will just glance at them and leave. Buyers these days are very picky; the price has to be right, the vegetables have to be delicious, and the weight has to be accurate for them to come back,” Ms. Van says, her hands still busily gathering the freshly delivered scallions.
Having worked at the market for nearly 40 years, Mrs. Van has only taken two days off a year: the Qingming Festival and the first day of the Lunar New Year. Over those years, her small vegetable stall has witnessed many changes in the market. From the days of using balance scales and recording debts in worn-out notebooks, to the advent of electronic scales, smartphones, and bank transfers infiltrating every stall. The market has changed, and so have the ways of buying and selling, but for Mrs. Van, what keeps customers is trustworthiness. “Selling at the market means selling to regular customers. Some people bought from me when they were young, and now they bring their grandchildren to the market. Shortchanging or overcharging even once means losing a customer,” Mrs. Van confided. While choosing vegetables and joking with a vendor, Mrs. Trinh Xuan Mai shared: “I go to the market to buy enough for two meals; mainly, I go to meet the vendors for fun.”
Next to Mrs. Vân's stall, Ms. Quách Thị Kiều's vegetable stall set up later than usual today. But from 4 a.m., even before Ms. Kiều arrived, her suppliers arrived one after another, placing their orders in their usual spots. Some delivered noodles, others delivered green vegetables… without needing to call or ask. Everything happened as a routine that had been going on for many years in the market. As soon as she parked her motorbike, Ms. Kiều encountered customers waiting to pick up their pre-ordered items. Some were rushing to get vegetables to cook noodles, others needed root vegetables for their breakfast stalls. Ms. Kiều answered while weighing and dividing the goods. Her hands moved quickly, selecting vegetables, picking up roots, and tying bags. For regular customers nearby, she loaded the goods onto her motorbike and went to deliver them herself, returning a few minutes later to continue dividing the portions. "I've had regular customers for decades, and I just keep doing this. Today, I'm a little tired, so I set up late. I can't take a break because the customers are waiting. I'm used to selling at the market; staying home would be boring," Ms. Kiều said.
For long-time vendors, the market is more than just a place to make a living. It's a biological clock that wakes them up every day to go to the market. The market is where they meet familiar faces, hear a few greetings, haggle over prices, and call out to each other.
The worry is that overcharging will result in losses.
A corner of Bac Son market bustles with the sound of trucks carrying fresh fish pulling in. Crates of fish are quickly unloaded. The noise of engines, the splashing of water, the splashing of fish in basins, and the shouts of people create a lively atmosphere in the fish market. Traders nimbly select fish, check their size with flashlights, and quickly weigh each basket to ensure early deliveries. As soon as the fish are unloaded, they are sorted and distributed. Baskets of still-fresh fish are quickly loaded onto motorbikes and delivered to other traditional markets in Rach Gia ward.

Small traders weigh out fresh fish. Photo: KIEU DIEM
Le Minh Khoa and his wife, originally from Vinh Thuan, rent a room in Rach Gia and have been making a living at Bac Son market for over 10 years. That's enough time for them to become familiar with the rhythm of life at the market. Fresh snakehead fish, catfish, tilapia, and red snapper thrash about, splashing water all over the market floor. As customers arrive, Khoa and his wife clean the fish on demand. Some ask for scales to be removed, others for it to be cut into pieces, and some want the guts cleaned and thoroughly scrubbed before cooking. Khoa's hands move swiftly, holding the wriggling fish while quickly and efficiently wielding his knife.
At 6 a.m., the market started to get busier. Some bought braised fish fillets, others only chose fish heads to make sour fish soup. Some people took quite a while, asking for prices several times before deciding to buy less than they had planned. For Mr. Khoa, just by observing how customers choose fish, ask for prices, and change their order, sellers can somewhat predict the day's sales. Fresh fish remains a unique advantage of traditional markets. Buyers can see and choose the fish themselves, and sellers can clean it however they want. But that advantage doesn't ease the sellers' worries, because fish is a product that can't be kept for long. Live fish fetches a good price; fish that are suffocated or slow to sell must be immediately discounted. "Fish is a dish that needs to be cooked immediately and eaten daily, so I don't dare stock as much as before. If I stock too much and can't sell it all, I'll lose money," Mr. Khoa said.
The difficulty of selling fish lies in the daily calculations. Taking too little means worrying about running out of stock and losing regular customers. Taking too much, especially on slow market days, leaves you anxious at the end of the day when you see the fish left in the tub. Each market day is a time for Khoa to consider: How many kilograms of snakehead fish and tilapia should I take today? Which types are easy to sell? What price will customers accept?
According to Mr. Khoa, since transportation costs and many input expenses have increased, the price of fish has also risen compared to before. "I just hope to earn enough each day to cover my family's living expenses. The profit is only enough to get by," Mr. Khoa said. While weighing the fish for customers, the seller is also calculating the cost of goods sold, profit, market expenses, rent, and family living expenses. Therefore, the fish on the stall is not only food for the buyer's meal but also the livelihood of the seller amidst the ever-changing market.
Selling at the tech-savvy market.
At 8 a.m., the market is in its peak hour. The crowds are dense, and besides the familiar calls to action, many stalls are filled with the sounds of text messages. Some are replying to messages ordering vegetables. Others are taking pictures of fresh fish to send to regular customers. Some are receiving bank transfers and preparing goods for customers to pick up. E-commerce is no longer a strange concept for small traders in traditional markets. Although not yet professional, Zalo, Facebook, and smartphones have become tools to support daily buying and selling.
Small traders at Bac Son market all have a group of regular customers. Customers text their orders, and the sellers prepare and clean the food in advance. Selling by phone helps traders retain customers on rainy days or when customers are busy and unable to go to the market. Although Ms. Nguyen My Hanh's stall only sells squid, shrimp, and fish, customers can order other items by phone, and Ms. Hanh can still deliver them, saving them the time of going to the market. "Nowadays, customers can buy wherever is convenient. I have the advantage of being located at the market, so I have everything I need. As long as customers call, I can deliver to their homes. Fresh goods, reasonable prices, and fast service mean customers remember me," Ms. Hanh said.
However, e-commerce also creates considerable pressure. A common excuse for slow sales among small traders is "too many sellers," referring to other shopping channels besides traditional markets such as supermarkets, convenience stores, delivery services, packaged foods, pre-prepared foods, and online sales channels. For some dry goods, small household items, and pre-prepared foods, traditional market traders face significant competition.
Around midnight, the market thinned out. A few pork stalls had sold out and packed up. Vegetable vendors gathered their remaining bundles, tidying them up to prepare for the afternoon market. In the afternoon, there were only a few individual customers, not as many as in the morning market. Around 5 PM, many fish stalls washed their trays, set out water, and calculated how much they had sold that day, how much stock they should order for tomorrow, whether prices would increase further, and whether regular customers would return. For these vendors, each day at the market is a calculation of making a living.
Nevertheless, markets still hold a familiar place in people's lives. Markets are the quickest indicators of price fluctuations, purchasing power, and consumer habits. When people's incomes are affected, traders realize it through slower sales. When food prices rise, housewives immediately change what they buy in their shopping baskets. With the development of e-commerce, markets also adjust to adapt.
The local economy is not just found in charts, reports, or statistics; it's present in every bunch of vegetables, every fish, every piece of meat, every basket of goods brought home for family meals. Each market day represents another day of persistent struggle for survival. And as long as Bac Son market remains brightly lit before dawn, as long as vendors diligently maintain their stalls, and buyers seek out the fresh produce and trustworthiness, the traditional market continues to maintain the simple yet enduring rhythm of the local economy.
KIEU DIEM
Source: https://baoangiang.com.vn/theo-chan-tieu-thuong-ra-cho-a490676.html









