My arms and legs hurt just as much as they did yesterday. My bed is a firm cot which is not very comfortable. Breakfast today consists of a little rice and a cup of water, less than yesterday’s breakfast. My tattered pants barely keep the bugs away anymore and I grew out of my shirt months ago. My clothes are all I have. My parents also work here in Taiwan, we are very poor. When I turned ten my parents told me I had to start working in the sweatshop with them so we could make more money. The sun is rising; it’s time to get back to work.
In the sweatshop I have to work at the sewing machines. The boss man said I have “nimble fingers” and I would be perfect for the job. At first I thought he would be a nice man. I heard him yelling about the Americans while I was in the bathroom; I hope he doesn’t take it out on us today. I’ve only been yelled at once but it was scary. My sewing machine broke and I had to stop working, it wasn’t my fault but he yelled at me anyway.
I didn’t understand why they called this place a sweatshop until I started working here. Even in the winter I find myself sweating in here. There’s no ventilation where we work and it gets very hot and stuffy. We created a system of metal pipes to try and get some airflow in the work area. It’s not much but it helps. Today is an easy day for me, only ten hours. I need to work fast though, there’s an order of pants we’ve been working on all week that needs to get done today. If we don’t get it done I’m afraid we’ll get yelled at.
As I run the pants through the sewing machine I can feel it starting to jam up again. I’m just trying to finish my stack of pants as quickly as I can and I’m praying that the machine holds up. I’m working on one of the last sets of pants when the machine breaks. My heart sunk because I knew I would have to go to the boss to get a replacement. As I was about to go ask the boss for help he called for everyone’s attention and yelled at us about working too slow. I could feel myself start to shake. I went up to him and asked him nicely if I could get a replacement for the sewing machine. He looked angry when he heard the news. He yelled at me in front of everyone and I started to cry. I tried to tell him it wasn’t my fault but he just walked away and told me I had to buy a new sewing machine. I cried even harder knowing that it would take me months to be able to pay back the money for a new sewing machine.
Someday I hope to make enough money to leave this place. Many others here have the same dream but I haven’t seen many leave. The thought of leaving and having a better life is the only thing that keeps me working anymore. It’s not great but perhaps this is my lot in life.
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