Factory Visits

After spending all of May in the office learning about the garment export industry and preparing for my research, this month I’ve finally been doing the meat of the work that I came here to do.  I’ve been going into factories to interview workers, union heads and management (actually, mainly administrative staff) in order to find out what it actually looks like when maternity protections laws are applied in factories. It’s been fascinating. As usual, I’m much more interested in the topic in general than I expected to be (I really didn’t think I was interested in labour law and labour rights, to be honest), but that always happens to me. When I went to Korea I thought teaching was just going to be a 9-5 job for me: a vehicle for funding my travels. That attitude went out the window very quickly.

Anyways, by the time June 7th rolled around and it was time for my first research trip, I was jumping out of my skin to actually get to talk to workers.

Svay Rieng, where we were headed, is a southeastern province that borders Vietnam.  In 1969 the Americans carpet-bombed the living daylights out of it and in 1974 it was a site of battle between the North and South Vietnamese.  In December of 1977, the border dispute between Vietnam and Cambodia escalated into full out fighting.  Vietnamese troops crossed into Svay Rieng, and fought as far as Neak Luong (by the way, if you want an excellent book that summarizes the Khmer Rouge times and post-war Cambodia, “When the War was Over” by Elizabeth Becker is really good).  So even though diligently scanning the internet for things to do in Svay Rieng bore no fruit, I was still excited to go for the historical value.  We would be going in the SPG car with Virak, the driver.  Also, because Grace was in town and I didn’t want to leave her alone in Phnom Penh, and because my boss is ridiculously awesome, he let Grace tag along with us on the condition that she adhere to the same confidentiality rules that I do ( no naming factories, no naming buyers, and no details that would reveal any of that information indirectly).  He was kind of amused that Grace chose to do this instead of seeing Angkor Wat, but I would have done the same thing! Angkor Wat is not going anywhere, and especially now that Grace is in Singapore, it’s a weekend trip for her (granted, a long weekend).  Whereas this was something she would never get to do again: go into factories, listen to workers, and see a part of Cambodia that most tourists don’t get to see (and realistically, not a lot of expats either, because factories here definitely do not have open door policies).  Having Grace there was also awesome because I was nervous and a disorganized, this being my first real research trip, and she took over small tasks for me (like packing up the thank-you presents for workers and making sure I don’t forget things everywhere (my perpetual problem)).

The Journey

We set out at 8 in the morning from my office, chatting on the way about what there is to do in Svay Rieng (in case Grace got bored on the second day and wanted to look around the area).  Like the internet,   Sophal didn’t think there was much to do for tourists.  He did, however, have an insight that the internet had failed to share.

“There is not much to do, but in the rainy season, you can see some beautiful roadside Jews.”

I blinked, thinking I had misheard, then slowly, carefully, looked over at Grace.  She was smiling, but the corners of her mouth were a little tight – the only sign of how hard she was trying not to laugh.  We both looked away immediately, feeling that it would be beyond our powers to continue making eye-contact without bursting into laughter.   Meanwhile, my mind kept going through all the different words it could be: juice?  Maybe he means juice?  Beautiful roadside juice….no…that’s probably not it.

The conversation, in the meantime, had moved on to different things and I was forced to put it aside for later contemplation.  Approximately half-an-hour later we had gotten on the subject of hiking and I mentioned just how badly I wanted to go hiking in the Cardamom Mountains and in Kirirom National Park.  In fact, that was one of my main plans for when my brother comes to visit me.

“Kirirom…” Sophal mused, “yes, the Jews there are good too.” He looked pensively out the window.  At this, I almost lost it.  I could not look at Grace and I couldn’t say a word.  All of my effort was directed into my face, trying to keep my smile happy and not dissolve into giggles.  I have lost practice.  I was SO good at this in Korea.  But Sophal was not finished.

“But the Cardamoms,” he said with a wistful sigh, “now there are the most magnificent mountain Jews.”

The strain was becoming too much for me and I physically dug my nails into my arm and slid lower into my seat so that my face could not be seen in the rearview mirror.  Grace, seeing my distress and having slightly more control over herself tried to steer the conversation to a different subject while I tried to regain my composure.  And then it dawned on me.

Views.

Beautiful roadside views. There are good views there.  Magnificent mountain views.

I think Grace got it at the very same moment because suddenly her voice faltered and she began to shake silently.  Thankfully nobody noticed except for me and we both managed to calm down as Sophal began taking photos and the conversation dropped off for a bit.  We couldn’t help it though.  Every now and then one of us would lean over to the other and whisper, “the jew looks very good from this angle.”  Or, at a really inopportune moment, “wow that was an unexpectedly awesome jew!”  This line of humour culminated in a ukulele song, composed that night in our hotel room, called “Jews I did not expect.”  In order to not exclude Kunthea we had to explain Jew jokes to her and I don’t think we did a very good job.  It was even harder than trying to explain “that’s what she said” jokes to Pat the German last summer in Vietnam.  It’s possible that she now thinks we’re very racist or, at best, kind of weird.

The jews  views were pretty fantastic though.  The rainy season has begun and with it, the annual flooding. many fields  were already flooded.  You could see huge, silvery fields, with thatched day-shelter roofs breaking the surface of the water.

flooding

About 20 minutes into our drive, we got pulled over by police officers.  At first I looked for construction, thinking that they must want us to take a different way since they were pulling over other people too.  But then I noticed that they were letting others go past.  Virak opened the window and exchanged a couple of words with the cop.  Then he got out of the car, went over to a little table set up by the side of the road.

“What’s going on?” Grace and I asked Sophal.

“Oh, we were stopped for speeding.” He answered.

“So..what happens? How much does he have to pay?” Grace asked, both of us envisioning $500 fines on rich-looking UN vehicles.

“Maybe 3000 riels,” Sophal replied.

We glanced at each other in disbelief.  Seriously? Seventy-five cents?  At this point Virak had come back to the car and we were off again, though a bit slower.

“Did he get a ticket?” I asked, rather naively.

“Well,” Sophal chuckled, “sometimes if we ask for receipt, it take much longer.  We just pay, and so we can go quickly.”

Yup.  The cops sit there all day, pulling people over and ripping them off in seventy-five cent increments.

We kept driving for about an hour until we got to Neuk Leung ferry.  We waited to board, along with buses full of tourists and trucks all headed to Vietnam.  All around us, vendors milled around knocking on car windows and offering travelers snacks of various kinds.

“Kunthea, what is she selling?”  I asked, pointing to a woman with a red krama tied around her head, who was balancing an enormous basket filled with something that looked suspiciously like fried insects.

“Oh, she is selling grasshoppers.” Kunthea said.  ”They are very good, you want to try?”  Well…want is maybe too strong a word but I really liked the idea of trying fried grasshoppers.  After all, I tried frog stuffed with lemongrass already and that was great.  Maybe this would be another one of those amazing discoveries!  Also, I was still regretting that time I didn’t try centipedes on a stick at the Beijing night market.   Unfortunately, at this point Sophal intervened.

“Maybe you try on the way back? Your stomach not used to this food…”  Good point.  Trying bizarre street food of questionable hygiene right before two days of interviews specially arranged just for me – maybe not a great idea.  I resolved to do it on the way back.

the view from the ferry

Interview 1:  The Government

We got in at 10 am on Wednesday, right in time for our meeting with labour officials.  The meeting was in a house that looked pretty residential as far as houses go and there were a couple of kids running around as well as the occasional chicken in the yard.   We sat down in a sparsely decorated but blessedly air conditioned room and began the interviews.

for some reason Sophal decided to take a picture.

This particular interview was less interesting for what was said than for the context that it was said in.  It turns out that for all the money flowing into  Cambodia from governments and aid agencies, most of it stays with the national government and doesn’t make it out to the provinces.  As a result, provincial governments are grievously underfunded and have very little capacity to deal with emergencies.  Usually if there is some kind of emergency businesses step in and make hefty donations to the government – including factories.  As a result, even if monitors report consistent noncompliance with labour laws, there is precious little that can be done about it.   After all, to alienate these factories would mean risking an important source of income for the provincial government.

Of course none of this was said explicitly when I asked about what tools the labour compliance monitors had for enforcing the law.  I instead received vague, non-committal answers about filing complaints to the ministry and encouraging factories to comply.  Fair enough. What else could they say? It’s not like they could really confess that the national party is totally failing its provincial governments.

We had time for lunch before going to the factory.  I always love eating in a group with my coworkers because it inevitably leads to me discovering awesome foods that I have never tried before.

Best food of the day: duck egg omelet with dried fish, served with fresh vegetables.

the thing on the right is like an omlette with dried fish inside. You eat it with fresh vegetables. I liked it so much I spent the whole weekend trying to learn the name in Khmer (I've since tried ordering it an the waitress just stared at me blankly)

Interview 2: Shoe Factory

(Note on this part of the post: having checked with my boss, I’m allowed to write about my observations and thoughts about the factories (and I can post some pictures) but I’m not allowed to identify them or reveal the buyers – hence the lack of specifics).

After talking with the labour officials, we headed off to one of the factories that we planned to visit.  After the one that Kunthea and I visited in Phnom Penh, I had high expectations for information gathering.

The Phnom Penh factory had several powerful unions and the  union heads were very upfront about problems with maternity leave.  On paper everything looked good – there was an agreement with the union which allowed workers to extend their mat leave from 3 months to five.  Workers were allowed to do lighter work when they were pregnant, there were even some benefits provided for workers who had worked at the company for less than one year and needed to go on maternity leave (the law doesn’t require factories to do this).  But while on paper the factory seemed peachy (and in fact it was better than most) in reality many workers could not access those benefits.  For instance, for the mat leave extension, the only way a worker could get one would be by coming in at the end of 3 months and filing a form.  A phone call would not be acceptable, nor could a relative come in to file the form instead.  Thus, even though in theory all workers who were still feeling weak after 3 months could extend their mat leave to 5 months, traveling to the factory (especially those workers who live far away, or during the rainy season when the roads are washed out) is not an option for very weak workers.  The only modes of transportation typically affordable to them are motos which are unsafe during the rainy season, or open-backed trucks:

try traveling on one of these when you're really ill

As a result, if a worker felt too weak to come in she risked losing all of her benefits.  After 6 days of an unexplained absence she’d be taken off the employee list and when she came back it would be like she was starting all over again as a new employee.  This is really bad because practically all of the existing labour law only applies to workers who have worked at the factory for more than a year.  As well,  she would lose her seniority bonus (typically a couple of extra dollars a month added to the salary each year) and her child allowance (usually around $5 a month for workers who have come back from maternity leave – but again only for those who have worked at the factory for more than 1 year).

Another example of the factory getting around the labour law is hiring workers for a series of fixed duration contracts.  Since the law largely protects workers who have worked at a factory for more than one year, the factory hires a worker for 3 months then tells her to stay home for a week, and then hires her again.  Thus, her contract never officially exceeds a year (even though some workers work like this for 3 to 5 years).  If you talk to management they will tell you that the reason for this is that they have high and low seasons (times when buyers need clothes, and times when they don’t).  But if you talk to union heads or workers they’ll tell you that production doesn’t slow down in the slightest.  It’s just a way of getting the benefit of long term workers (skill, efficiency) without paying the costs.

All of this and much more we learned after visiting this factory outside Phnom Penh, so we expected to be able to gather information easily here too.   It quickly became apparent, however, that we would not be able to get anything useful.

Our first meeting was with two admin workers.  This wasn’t exactly the management interview that I was hoping for, but on the flip side it meant that they actually dealt with maternity leave on a regular basis.  Because shoe factories are not involved in the BFC monitoring network, we didn’t have any information on this one.   While the admin girls were willing to tell us things like the size of the factory and the number of male and female employees, we could not get them to reveal the name of the buyer.  They demurred, saying that at this level they did not know.  When pressed, they said that there was another factory elsewhere that buys their product, but that they didn’t know the final buyer.  Luckily, Grace and I were sneaky and during our tour of the production floor looked at the soles of the shoes for the brand.  Later that night, we googled the brand and found out who the buyer was.

We also got stuck on the suggestions question.  When asked if they had any suggestions at all for making the process of maternity leave easier, both of them said that they couldn’t answer.  It was interesting because they didn’t just say that everything was great (as you might expect them to do if they were concerned).  Instead they both made it clear that is was not ok for them to answer the question (even though we assured  them that their answers would be kept confidential).

When it was time to meet with the workers, everything got even worse.  First, the admin girls tried to stay – papers and pen at the ready.  Sophal insisted on sending them away and they were not pleased about it.  They also did not give us a room where we could interview workers in private.  We were at a big table, but in the same room where all the admin staff were working.  We were maybe 3 metres away from the admin desks, and the two girls we interviewed kept looking over and walking by us with concerned faces.  The workers were evidently uncomfortable with the whole set up, and we could not get them to tell us much.  Even though this factory broke the law and paid out maternity leave to workers only after they came back to work (by law, they get 50% of their monthly wages for 3 months in a lump sum before going on leave) the workers were adamant that their conditions were perfect and they had nothing to ask for.

To be fair, it’s hard for me to judge how much of what they were saying was actually true, and I just wasn’t believing it because I expect the conditions to be bad.  These ladies were living and working in the province where their families lived (unlike the Phnom Penh factories, where most workers are migrants), and as a result they had a lot more support from their social networks.  Perhaps it was less of a big deal for them that the mat leave was paid upon return because all of them had saved up money in preparation for delivery.  Unlike the Phnom Penh workers they did not have to send most of their money back home – so they could put money away.

Regardless of their circumstances, however, there were really obvious problems with interviewing workers in the same room as management.  There wasn’t much we could do though because unlike factories that are covered by BFC these guys had no obligation to allow us to come in and interview anyone.  They were just doing it because they didn’t want to have the appearance of not cooperating with the government (the labour officials that we interviewed specifically requested that we be allowed to come in and do this research).

There was no union at the factory (uhhh…there was one but then we don’t know what happened – was the cogent explanation we got from the admin girls) so we were done our interviews for the day.   It was time to go and chill out in the hotel before dinner.

We ended up having a quiet evening that night.  We were staying in this little border town called Bavet and it was completely dead at 9 pm on a Wednesday night.  Grace was still battling exhaustion from her trip over so she just chilled in the hotel room.  Meanwhile Kunthea and I decided to check out the casino.  After all, Bavet is known for being the place where the Phnom Penh elites come to gamble.

Virak dropped us off but didn’t come in with us.  He felt uncomfortable with an ILO vehicle being parked in such an unsavory place.  We also didn’t stay long.  There was actually nobody there.  The staff immediately rushed out to meet us, imploring us to play a game of something! Of anything!  We politely declined.  After walking around and glancing at the sad looking slot machines we peeked into the disco.  A forlorn DJ who probably wanted to be home and in bed looked really excited to see us, and dejected when we gestured that we were leaving.  He had even put on Lady Gaga just for us (actually just for us- because there was nobody else there).  At that point we gave up on finding something to do and just grabbed a moto back to the hotel where we went to bed very soon.  Surprisingly,  interviews are exhausting.

The next day was far more successful.  The factory was a lot more cooperative and it helped that we specifically requested to have a closed meeting room where we could talk to the workers.  This one also didn’t have a union, but it did have worker representatives whom we could speak with (though when you talk to them, you’re not likely to get a perspective different from management because managers treat them well and their pay is quite a bit higher than a regular worker’s).

Sophal takes these pictures because once in a while they have to create materials showing donors what the projects actually do (including research).

And on the way back I did try fried grasshoppers!

we bought a whole bag after Kunthea deemed these ones to be fresh

Grace intimidates her grasshopper

5 seconds later I ate it

Kunthea snacked on the rest, because although all you could really taste was sesame oil and salt - I couldn't bring myself to have more than one

Next culinary adventure: fried spiders (on the way to Siem Reap.  Kunthea says they’re delicious)

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