At the sweater factory I toured in Dongguan, to report a story on Chinese migrant workers, everyone broke for lunch soon after I arrived. They got 1 Â˝ hours â€“ a helpful respite for those nine-hour days, plus overtime.
Most hurried to the canteen, where cooks scooped veggies and tofu onto rice bowls, which they ate with friends in a big cafeteria, a TV playing in the background. Employees higher on the totem pole ate in a separate room, and got meat.
After lunch many workers retreated to their dorms. A few sunned themselves just outside the company gates, leaning sleepily against the pink-tiled walls.
Some workers caught up on chores, hanging sheets and clothes on the roof of their dorm. Chinese New Year is a common time for â€śspring cleaning,â€ť the manager showing me around explained.
One woman sat outside her room â€“ knitting, of all things. An odd hobby for workers who make sweaters all day long, I thought to myself. But this person worked in the kitchen, I was told.