Blue Gold Read online

  Down the line toward the corner of the building, Laiping noticed a guy in a blue hoodie approaching people. She thought it was strange that he was wearing a hoodie in this heat. She noticed how people turned away from him.

  “Keep moving!” shouted a security guard up near the entrance.

  The line moved forward again. Laiping closed the gap with the girls in front of her. When she turned back to look for Yiyin, the guy in the blue hoodie thrust a pink flyer into her hands.

  “If they hire you, there are things you need to know,” he said.

  His eyes were intense and his face lean and handsome. Laiping glanced at the sheet and saw written in large characters: Know Your Rights! She looked around and noticed that nobody else had taken the flyer. Then she heard someone shout,

  “You!”

  The security guard at the entrance had spotted the guy in the hoodie and was blowing a whistle. Several other guards emerged from the building and started chasing the guy, who took off running. Just before the guards reached the spot where Laiping was standing, the girl with the fan snatched the pink paper from her hand and threw it to the ground. The guards ran right past Laiping. The guy in the hoodie was yards ahead of them now, sprinting like a deer—losing himself between the buildings before the security team could catch him.

  “Stupid hick,” said the older girl in disgust.

  It took Laiping a moment to realize she meant her.

  “Did I miss anything?” asked Yiyin when she returned to the line several moments later.

  Laiping saw the flyer on the ground near her feet and was about to tell Yiyin about the guy and the security guards, but the words “stupid hick” rang in her ears.

  “No,” she said. “Hopefully it won’t be much longer.”

  AT LAST LAIPING and Yiyin’s turn came to enter the employment office. They were told to line up again, this time in a large room with several wickets. The woman behind the wicket in their line asked them if they were together when they reached the front. Before Laiping could speak, Yiyin answered for both of them that they were.

  “Have you worked in a factory before?” asked the woman. Her manner was severe and suspicious. She was seated on a stool behind a desk, while Laiping and Yiyin stood.

  “No,” answered Laiping, “but I am a very hard worker and I learn quickly.”

  “I have!” declared Yiyin. “I worked in a factory in Shanwei making purses.”

  Laiping wished she had factory experience to boast about.

  “Why did you leave there?”

  Yiyin didn’t miss a beat. “Everybody knows that Shenzhen is the place to be. In Shanwei there are posters everywhere saying so! Besides, I want to make high tech.”

  “There are posters in my village, too,” Laiping piped up, hoping to appear every bit as eager as Yiyin. The image of a girl on an assembly line rose in her mind, smiling with pride above a caption that read, “Come out to the city to work!” Laiping had always admired the girl’s smart white smock and cap.

  The woman made notes on their application forms. Without looking up she said, “Identification papers.”

  Laiping pushed the fake birth certificate Min gave her under the glass. The woman gave the girls’ documents a quick glance. “Which one of you is Fen?” she asked.

  Laiping was confused. Who was Fen? But Yiyin answered promptly, “I am.”

  The woman looked her up and down, seeming to note for the first time how tiny she was. She read Yiyin’s identity card to confirm, “You are sixteen?”

  “Yes.”

  The woman seemed satisfied with her reply. She didn’t even bother to question Laiping about her age.

  “Education?”

  “I finished middle school,” replied Laiping, which was true—she had graduated from the ninth grade last month. But to support the lie about her age, she added another lie: “A year ago.”

  “So did I,” concurred Yiyin.

  Laiping and Yiyin spent several anxious minutes while the woman made notes on each of their forms. “Since you are both from Guangdong Province,” she said, “we will place you in the same division. Report to Building 3 for training at one o’clock today.”

  Laiping and Yiyin were over the moon. The woman placed them in the same dormitory, too, and although Laiping was disappointed that she wouldn’t be in the same building as Min, she was happy she’d be with her new friend.

  “Because you are inexperienced, you will be paid the basic wage,” the woman continued. “You must sign a contract stating that you will stay here and work for two years.”

  Laiping’s smile faded slightly. She had been so caught up in the excitement of working in Shenzhen that she had never considered she might be required to stay for a certain period. Two years seemed like a very long time to be away from home.

  “I’ll stay here forever!” declared Yiyin. “I love the big city.”

  “You will stay here until the company gives you permission to leave,” stated the humorless woman, “and you will stay in the dormitory we assign to you. There’s a list of rules posted on every floor of each dormitory. Make sure you obey them. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” replied Yiyin, chastened.

  “Yes,” replied Laiping, forcing a smile.

  The woman pointed toward another room to her right.

  “Go in there and have your pictures taken for your company ID tags, then you may eat in the cafeteria before reporting to the Training Center.”

  BY THE TIME LAIPING AND YIYIN LEFT the employment office, they had just enough time for lunch, so they headed immediately to the nearest cafeteria, proudly wearing company ID tags on plastic strings around their necks that would allow them access to the company’s facilities. They entered to find a vast room lit by high windows, with row upon row of tables at which thousands of people were seated, eating quietly. A worker checked their ID tags before they were allowed to get in line. On Yiyin’s tag, she was identified as Fen.

  “Why are you called Fen when your name is Yiyin?” asked Laiping as they chose the shortest lineup they could find to wait for their food.

  Yiyin shrugged. “That’s the name on my ID card.”

  “Is that you?”

  “It is now.” Yiyin grinned.

  Now Laiping understood—the card was a fake, just like her birth certificate.

  “How old are you really?” she asked.

  “Fourteen. You?”

  “Fifteen. Where did you get that ID card?”

  Yiyin took a fraction of a second before answering, “I found it.” Her hesitation made Laiping think she was lying.

  “Did you really work in a purse factory in Shanwei?” she asked, wondering what else Yiyin had lied about.

  “No, but my mother does,” she replied. “That’s how I know it’s better to work here in Shenzhen, making high tech. By the way,” she added, “from now on, my name is Fen.”

  Laiping and Fen slowly shifted forward in the line, worrying that they would be late for their training. At last they reached a steam table where a worker behind the counter filled their plates with rice and vegetables and a portion of meat that looked like chicken, but might have been pork. To Laiping, it was a feast, but Fen complained that the portion of meat was small. They found a spot at a table of girls. Both were so hungry that not a word passed between them while they clacked chopsticks.

  At a nearby table, a girl raised her voice in protest at something another girl had said. A security guard, a middle-aged woman wearing a severe expression, stepped toward the offending girl, pointing to a sign on the wall that read, Eat Quietly and Quickly. The girl bowed her head.

  “Sorry,” she said softly. “Sorry.”

  The matron retreated to her post by the wall, but she kept her eye on the girl. Laiping and Fen, mouths full, exchanged wary looks. Laiping counted a fourth lesson she had learned since arriving in the city: obey the rules, and avoid the attention of the security guards.

  After lunch, Laiping and Fen scurried to find
Building 3. They had to show their ID tags to a security guard before they were allowed to enter, then they followed hundreds of other new employees into a space that was even bigger than the cafeteria, with tables running in rows along the entire length of the massive room. Everything was white—the walls, the linoleum floor, the tables—giving Laiping the sense she was entering a huge, open hospital.

  A foreman shouted for the newcomers to find a work station. Fen pulled Laiping with her to two free spots along one of the tables, where they stood awaiting further instructions. On one wall, Laiping saw a huge portrait of an important-looking man with a confident smile. He was Chinese, but he seemed Western—maybe because of the expensive-looking suit and tie he was wearing, and because of the smile. Posters on the wall beside the portrait proclaimed, Take pride in your work! and Duty leads to prosperity!

  Once all of the new workers were settled, a woman in a business suit entered, accompanied by fifty or more men and women in white smocks and caps—just like the ones the girl in the poster back home was wearing.

  “I’ll bet they’re going to give us more rules,” said Fen.

  The woman in the suit took a microphone from a stand. “Hello, and welcome!” she said, smiling so that all her teeth showed—her voice echoing around the hall. “We are happy you are here, and we hope that you are happy, too.”

  The woman cupped her hand around her ear, waiting for a reply. Laiping was startled when hundreds of new employees—including Fen—obliged her in unison with a resounding, “Yes, we are happy!”

  “You have had the good fortune to be hired by the most successful company in China. Almost half a million people work at this location alone, and this is just one of many factory complexes around the world. You owe your jobs to this man,” she said, sweeping her arm toward the giant portrait on the wall. “Mr. Steve Chen is the founder and chief executive officer of this company. He is like a father, and you are like his children—many, many children he looks after and cares about. Let’s hear it for Mr. Chen, who is giving you prosperity and a future you could never have dreamed of!”

  A loud cheer welled up. Laiping joined in, even though she had never heard of Mr. Chen. “Mr. Chen has provided for your every need, from good food to comfortable beds. He has even built a movie theater and swimming pool for you to enjoy!”

  The workers cheered, Laiping included. The woman with the microphone let them applaud for a bit, then motioned for them to be quiet. Her tone turned serious.

  “Mr. Chen is very kind to his employees, but in return for his kindness he expects something from us.”

  Fen leaned into Laiping. “Here come the rules! I told you so!”

  Laiping wished Fen would keep quiet and pay attention to what was being said.

  “First, he expects hard work.” The woman’s voice echoed off the walls.

  “More like slave labour,” Fen chimed in.

  Laiping edged away from her slightly, wanting to listen to the woman instead of Fen’s smart remarks.

  “Second, he expects quality work and quality products.”

  “Then give us quality food!” countered Fen.

  Laiping noticed several people around them glancing at Fen. A foreman standing nearby shot her a warning look, holding his finger to his mouth—but Fen didn’t see him.

  The speaker’s expression darkened; her tone became dire. “Thirdly,” she said, “Mr. Chen expects loyalty. The products we make are secret, the very latest technology. Should they fall into the wrong hands before they reach market, those responsible will be punished for humiliating Mr. Chen, and for putting everyone’s prosperity at risk.”

  A hush had fallen over the training hall, but Fen couldn’t resist whispering into Laiping’s ear, “Who would be that stupid?”

  Suddenly, a hand locked around Fen’s arm. The foreman swiftly and quietly marched her out of the hall. Laiping watched them, alarmed. But then she noticed that no one else had even turned her head, and decided it would be smart to pretend, like the rest of them, that nothing had happened. The woman in the business suit was jolly and smiling again.

  “Let us care for each other to build a wonderful future!” she proclaimed.

  Everyone applauded, including Laiping, but she barely listened to the rest of what the lady had to say. What if Fen never comes back? she worried. Fen might have been loud and a liar, but other than Min she was the only person Laiping knew in all of Shenzhen.

  IT TURNED OUT that the men and women in white smocks were instructors who were there to teach the new workers how to do their jobs. Laiping’s instructor was Mr. Huang, who told the half-dozen workers lined along their section of table, “You will be trained to work in the mobile phone factory. Specifically, you will learn to solder capacitors onto printed circuit boards.”

  Laiping experienced a moment of panic. She had no idea what a capacitor or a circuit board was, or what “to solder” meant. But her anxiety lessened a little when Fen returned to the hall and took her place beside her. Laiping tried to welcome her back with a small smile, but Fen—pale and serious now—kept her eyes on the instructor.

  Mr. Huang had the group gather around him while he demonstrated how to use tweezers to pick up a tiny flat square with a geometric pattern on it from one bin, which turned out to be a circuit board, and a far tinier component from a second bin, which was the capacitor.

  “The tantalum capacitor is an essential part of the cell phone,” explained Mr. Huang. “Tantalum powder is made from columbite-tantalite, or coltan, a special mineral that stores energy and releases it quickly, with very little energy loss. Tantalum powder is what allows high-quality electronics to become smaller and smaller in size. But if the capacitor is not secured perfectly to the circuit board, the mobile phone won’t work properly and the company’s customers will be unhappy. Mr. Chen’s reputation will suffer!”

  Using tweezers, he carefully placed the capacitor onto a designated spot on the circuit board, stepping back so that each of them in turn could examine where he had positioned it. Next, he picked up a small pointed tool with an electrical cord in one hand and a thin strand of metal in the other.

  “This is the soldering iron and solder,” he said. “You will touch the hot tip of the soldering iron to the place where the capacitor meets the circuit board to heat them, then you will use the iron to melt the solder, like this.” Mr. Huang touched the iron to the strand of metal until it liquefied and coated the tip of the iron. “Be careful not to get too much or too little solder,” he said, applying the molten tip of the iron to the circuit board with a quick, deft motion, “Or the joint will not function properly.” Mr. Huang lifted the iron away from the board. “There!” he pronounced. “Now you try!”

  For the next four hours, Laiping and Fen tried their hardest to solder capacitors onto circuit boards. Laiping went hot with embarrassment whenever Mr. Huang checked her work. The first time, the instructor was able to break the capacitor off the board with the slightest tweak of the tweezers—“The joint is weak,” declared Mr. Huang. “The board and capacitor weren’t hot enough when you applied the solder”—only to complain during his next inspection that Laiping had applied too much.

  Laiping’s fingertips were burned from the soldering iron. Her neck and shoulders ached from being hunched over the work table, and her legs were stiff from standing. But she was pleased when at the end of the day Mr. Huang held up one of her circuit boards to the group as an example of good workmanship.

  “That’s enough for today,” he announced. “Be back here at eight o’clock tomorrow morning. By the end of the week, we expect you to be ready to move onto the factory floor.”

  Fen was unusually quiet as she and Laiping found their way from the Training Center to Dormitory 2, where they had been assigned.

  “What happened when that foreman took you away?” asked Laiping. Fen threw her a hostile look, just as she had done that morning in line at the employment office when Laiping asked about her father. “Sorry,” said Laiping, r
ealizing she was causing Fen to lose more face than she already had.

  With that, Fen softened a little. “He just yelled at me,” she said sullenly. “In my mother’s factory, the bosses yell at the workers all the time. Sometimes she works every day of the week, for twelve hours. I don’t want her life. I want to make something of myself, to be more than just an ordinary worker.”

  Again Laiping wondered what happened to Fen’s father, but she knew better than to ask. She tried to change the subject.

  “What are those nets?” she asked as they approached their dormitory. There was broad webbing surrounding the building, raised two storeys off the ground.

  Fen threw Laiping a wary look. “You don’t know?”

  “Know what?” replied Laiping, Fen’s tone making her feel stupid.

  “Never mind.”

  “Tell me,” replied Laiping. She had to know these things, so people would stop calling her a country hick.

  Fen dropped her voice so the girls around them going in and out of the dorm couldn’t hear. “They’re to catch people who jump.”

  Laiping was confused. “Why would people jump? From where?”

  Fen rolled her eyes and kept her voice low. “Didn’t your cousin tell you anything?”

  “Tell me what?”

  “That workers have killed themselves, or tried to.”

  Laiping went cold. “Why?”

  “I guess you’ll find out, won’t you?” answered Fen.

  While Fen went inside, Laiping lagged behind. With good jobs and movie theaters and swimming pools, she thought, why would anyone want to kill herself? Then she remembered what the guy in the blue hoodie had said to her. There are things you need to know.

  Laiping followed Fen into the building with a nagging sense that there was another lesson to be learned here. She just wasn’t certain what it was.

  NIGHTTIME WAS THE WORST IN NYARUGUSU, when there was nothing but mud walls and the old sacks they used to cover the doorway to separate the family from rats and thieves. But the terrors Sylvie feared most were in her jumbled dreams—the soldier on top of her, Mama screaming from the bedroom, Papa’s face when the bullets hit. This night, like so many others, she woke in a cold sweat, her heart racing. She could see nothing, but she heard Mama muttering and fretting in her sleep and could only guess at what nightmares she was reliving. Sylvie dozed fitfully for the rest of the night, until at last dawn framed the sacks in the doorway with soft light.