CAN THO, VIETNAM – The pond’s flawless surface shatters as dozens of snakehead fish leap up to claim their lunch. “I taught them how to do that,” Le Trung Tin says proudly, tossing another handful of fish feed. As he winds his way along narrow paths on Son Island, Le Trung Tin explains how plastic pollution forced him to shift from fishing in Vietnam’s Mekong Delta to fish farming in filtered ponds. “I built this ecological environment free of plastic waste, chemical spills and (protected from) extreme weather,” he says, noting a reduction in fish deaths and increased profits compared with his previous fishing ventures in plastic-choked waters. “Living in harmony with nature is essential for fish farming, but it’s becoming harder in the delta.” Flowing more than 4,300 kilometers from the Tibetan Plateau in China, through mainland Southeast Asia and then into Vietnam’s Mekong Delta before finally emptying into the South China Sea, the Mekong River is among the top 10 waterways in Asia most responsible for riverine plastic waste reaching the world’s oceans. The proposed United Nations-led Global Plastic Treaty debated in South Korea earlier this month was hoped to offer some relief. But disagreements over plastic production and chemical use left the supposed landmark treaty far from consensus. Now, world leaders are planning a sixth, and again supposedly final, negotiations conference next year. Regardless of if the treaty gets signed in 2025, it may still be years before tangible solutions reach Mekong countries, like Cambodia, Vietnam and Thailand. Upstream from Le Trung Tin’s fish farm in Cambodia, a nationwide anti-plastic campaign has kicked off with fervor, but tangible policy changes are yet to emerge. Further upstream in Thailand, the government has announced plans to ban the import of foreign plastic waste next year. What this will mean for countries like Japan — which has in recent years exported about 50,000 metric tons of plastic waste to the country annually — is uncertain. Environmental activists and academics blame waste imports, combined with a lack of proper waste management, for a rise in plastic leakage into the Mekong. Plastic pollution is a major threat to the nations sharing the lower basin — Myanmar, Laos, Thailand, Cambodia and Vietnam — not least because tens of millions of people across those countries rely on the Mekong for their livelihoods, as the river is key for access to food, water and trade. Plastic threatens the endangered and migratory species that rely on a free-flowing river, while the aquaculture industries across these nations feel the weight of the plastic crisis in their nets and hauls. In addition, the consumption of microplastics and the subsequent impact on human health is a growing concern. “We’re addicted to plastics, now more than ever,” says Panate Manomaivibool, an assistant professor at Thailand’s Burapha University who has studied plastic waste in the Mekong’s transboundary regions. “Compared to the scale of the problem, attempts to fix it are tiny.” Four plastic waste hotspots along the Mekong’s lower basin — Chiang Saen in Thailand, Phnom Penh and Tonle Sap lake in Cambodia and Can Tho in Vietnam — illustrate the efforts to address plastic pollution and the ways plastic is changing the lives of river communities dependent on these waters. Boonrat Chaikeaw hauls in a net full of trash as he fishes in the Mekong River by Chiang Khong on the border of Thailand and Laos. | Anton L. Delgado Thailand: The gateway to the lower basin Clumps of trash stream down the Ruak River, a tributary of the Mekong, as a herd of rescued Asian elephants watches their mahouts (keepers) pick up the plastic waste. “The trash is mixed — plastic bags, bottles, food wrappers — the smell of food can tempt the elephants,” says Poonyawee Srisantear, an elephant camp manager in Chiang Saen. “When they play with the plastic, they sometimes try to eat it, which can harm their health.” Despite Poonyawee’s cleanup efforts, waste continues to flow down the Ruak, reaching the Mekong River less than a kilometer away from the elephants in the Golden Triangle region encompassing parts of Thailand, Myanmar and Laos. “It feels like it never ends,” she says. While at Burapha University, Panate led a field study in the Golden Triangle to better understand the source of this trash. Over the course of a year, Panate’s team collected 2,650 large waste samples from the sections of the Ruak, Kok and Ing rivers that merge with the Mekong. Their research determined that 91% of the waste was plastic, with labels indicating around 30% originated in Myanmar and nearly 20% in China, underscoring the international nature of the challenge. Panate says he tries “to be optimistic that we are not yet at the irreversible turning point,” but he fears the region’s addiction to plastic will be hard to break. “We are the first generation facing this problem on this scale. Our ancestors, even our parents, were never exposed to this level of plastic pollution,” says Panate. “Without an alternative, our countries will always choose to use the cheapest, easiest option. For now, that remains plastic.” Saksan Chuamuangpan, director of Chiang Saen’s Public Health Department, says that population growth and the subsequent rise in plastic use has dramatically increased the city’s waste production over the past two decades. By one of Chiang Saen’s border ports across the Mekong from Laos, Saksan watches his team attempt to remove rubbish trapped at the port. Over the course of an hour, they barely make a dent. “The more people there are, the more the city develops, the more the economy develops, the more the use of plastic increases,” he says. “All the countries that share the Mekong River must share the responsibility.” A trash bag drifts down the Ruak River, a tributary of the Mekong River, past a herd of rescued Asian elephants in Chiang Saen, near the Golden Triangle region between Thailand, Myanmar and Laos. | Anton L. Delgado While just a glance at the Mekong indicates