"Made in China" sweat and blood: the whole truth about manufacturing in China
The witness, the user peek-a-Boo, spoke about the reverse side of the work in the factories in China. Everyone knows that the Chinese make products for the world. But do you know what else they use respiratory mask instead of toilet paper, shoved his hands in working machines and easily bypass the most serious "protection against the fool"?
Often at exhibitions of Russian toys wholesalers in order to attract customers they say: "we Have our own factory in China where young Asians in elf hats, singing joyful songs, herachat toys for our children! Take it from us, we do everything ourselves with love..."
How to distinguish a person who has a factory in China, from the fact that stars, that he has a factory? Ask: how do you deal with manufacturing in China? The one that says, "Do all ohrenitelno, the Chinese are hard working guys doing all the quality..." — stars. The one that says: "How can I, bahadoralast hate! Fuck am I even messing with it..." — he definitely has his factory.
Frankly, I do not always get to make toys, "love", because unexpected shit is the favorite companion of production, where there is at least one Chinese.
It seems to me that the Chinese nation with the lowest instinct of self-preservation. Every day at the factory meetings, training, safety, saying, do not put your little Asian hands on a running machines and do not make unnecessary movements in the direction of the rotating mechanisms. Still there are a couple of enthusiastic experimenters who consider themselves smarter, more agile, faster, than, say, sawing machine. Hence the minor loss of limbs. I now understand the origin of the expression "to make blood and sweat".
Whatever protection on the machines or standing, factory or modified by us, there will always be individual, which it will pass because of the "non-standard" thinking.
The man killed himself the tendons in the hand. His task was to put one stick in the ADF. One stick left, placed second. And so to until either end of the stick, either the working time or not zamanay monotonous work and not quitting. Fucking the simplest algorithm of actions, I would say. Just stick a fucking stick fucking machine. What could be easier? In my opinion, great job, overwhelming any extraneous thought processes and individualism. But if it is possible to crap, Chinese shit yourself. Still consider myself to be a master Shifu, we, white people, some Babuino from evil are, in fact, he, Lao Wang, with two classes of education in a rural school, knows how to harness the devil-machine and increase productivity by half.
Anyway, he decided to poke several sticks at the same time. Stick does not fit, because we had anticipated this course of events and set the limiters. But as they say, if a patient wants to live, then the medicine is powerless. While chief technologist departed, the frustrated engineer decided to exercise "smart", severing the rails, twisting the screws, put a couple of sticks at once. In a second he is yelling and running around the shop with sticking out your arm with a stick, like a sharpening kit. We took it to the dressing in the office, there stood a large bucket filled with water, apparently, someone was mopping.
Besides safety, there is also a cultural dimension in the education of workers. You can take the girl out of the village, but the village of girls ever. There are exactly the same. How many of pains to teach him not to spit in the shop, and not only men but also women. The Chinese spit fucking scary — first they collect all the snot with sounds consisting of a mixture of cough in the last stages of tuberculosis, awakening fucking Cthulhu, the opening of the abyss and the seven gates of hell, landing of fighter and brutal mating of two males and one female elephant.
Then it all erupts straight at his feet, no matter where you sit. With a slap. Well, it's over, now a new problem. Clogged pipes in the toilet, plumbers said that it is urgent to wean people to wipe your ass on the respiratory masks, which are issued in dusty workshops for neh to throw them down the toilet. Here as well, huh? Oh well... like what the fuck?.. After all, his mother, is not an isolated case. Maybe local Asians have some kind of fetish? Well type to breathe into the mask and then you know.
In fact, our regular workers are trained in a rather cultural entities. A little bit of education and some of them even begin to walk straight, and there to a reasonable person in the neighborhood. All of the above problems start when, due to labour shortages to hire temporary workers on one-time work. In China, each industrial zone there is a market "temporary worker". There are those who are ashamed to work officially, sort of freelance-Gypsies of the world workers who don't want to be tied down to one place — here today, gone tomorrow all to another province gone.Labour migration for those who love romance and travel. This market — a very disgusting place. The stench, dirt, untidy people, something reminiscent of the middle Ages during the plague with pictures. Not enough only to be somewhere in the corner of the square crows Daleville the corpse of a homeless man. Chance to choose from this rabble someone more or less acceptable is much lower than the chance that tomorrow I'm appointed Queen of England.
Did you ever lure in the Park's fish pond, throwing bread in the water? That's about the same effect produces the appearance of a potential employer in the market. All the poor and crippled begin to flock from all the fucking cracks like the district Gopnik on the track "Caspian Shipping" from the window tinted the Niners, who from lane, who from under the cardboard creeps in, surrounding you in a tight circle. The most cunning of them at once you climb in the car and don't want to leave.
And here the fun starts — we need to love their jobs and try to find a "satellites in production." To say that every minute standard selection falls lower and lower, means to say nothing. In the end I think if the employee has at least two full hands and he's not drooling, then go. I think, about the felt myself and Jack Sparrow when I called the team at Tortuga.
Work Manager at the factory is the baptism by shit and sword. Working day from 7:30 am to 18:30 + bypass with check, 6 days a week + periodic Sunday, around people with low level of education or lack of it, and the barbarian habits. If periodically not to dilute the sadness, melancholy French cognac, you can go and be laid up in Durkee, before it ran naked out the door of the factory, swinging a hammer and shouting "My aunt was a circular saw!" slamming into a crowd of people haracha everything and everyone in its path.
The saddest thing is all the environment. It eats away at the brain, lubricates the perception and pulls on the bottom. I gave myself a firm promise — if I lose the line between the respiratory mask and toilet paper — I'm done with this job once and for all.
Such here pies with kittens.