Walking tall in a world of their own

Shenzhen's archetypal Sanhe marketplace has made its name as a haven for migrant workers seeking riches far away from home. Luo Weiteng finds they're a resilient lot, nonchalantly eking out a living with pride. But, time is fast running out at 

Sanhe to make way for development. 

They look abandoned, forgotten and lost in another part of the world, but they aren't desolate as yet. 

For decades since China's opening-up, migrant workers from all corners of the country have played a seminal role in Shenzhen's economic miracle, pouring into the city's iconic Sanhe labor marketplace, having to endure wearisome train pilgrimages from their hometowns chasing their financial dreams. 

They have staked their future in Sanhe as a stepping stone to riches, toiling first in strenuous, low-paying jobs that would raise eyebrows among locals as Shenzhen races ahead with its unbridled economic, technological and industrial development over the past few decades. 

Sanhe, nestled in Shenzhen's northern Longhua subdistrict, takes its name from one of the twin-pillar employment agencies in the area - Sanhe Human Resources Company and Haixinxin Human Resources Company - which have spearheaded a phalanx of more than 10 similar companies that have sent millions of workers to a vast spectrum of labor-intensive markets feeding industries in Shenzhen and across the Pearl River Delta, making Sanhe a buzzword on the lips of almost every transient worker embarking on a journey down south. 

Amid the hustle and bustle of neighboring urban villages, the marketplace is also a little-known shelter for debt-ridden and internet-addicted youngsters, who are tired of the monotonous work at assembly lines and have chosen to pursue an unexamined life working as temporary laborers and paid by the day. 

They call themselves Sanhe dashen, with a stint of self-mocking and pretentiousness, but exhibiting high self-esteem and bragging about their ability to make a living in Shenzhen without having to slog like a dog. Most of them, unskilled with no savings and no academic degrees and some without even proper identification papers, would idle away day in and day out, sometimes for years, but packing off on "lightning" job assignments fixated by the job agencies. 

But, it seems, the tide has turned. Illegal labor recruitment has fallen out with the authorities, land-hungry developers have set their sights on Longhua, and working in cities around Shenzhen appears to be losing its allure among migrant workers who may now have to either hesitantly pack up for home or hang on. 

"This winter, Longhua has got a whole lot quieter as city planners clamp down on an illegal web of job recruitment in Sanhe and renovate nearby urban villages," says Fang Zhaozhao, a long-time Longhua resident. "This may be just the tip of the iceberg." 

Longhua is at the mercy of change as Shenzhen evolves beyond its manufacturing roots and looks to high-tech industries and a high-end service economy for future growth. For unskilled workers, such high-speed ambitions may herald a failed promise of a better life earned far from home in Shenzhen - a top-tier metropolis that's essentially built on migrant labor and immigrants. 

The sprawling megacity of 12 million people has seen just 34 percent of its population being granted permanent residency under the nation's household registration system. The other 7.9 million are said to be migrants who venture beyond their hometowns and villages for better employment in southern China's Pearl River Delta megalopolis - the country's traditional manufacturing heartland crawling with all sorts of labor-intensive job opportunities. 

Scratching out a living 

For decades, Shenzhen has become a vital part of the global supply chain as foreign enterprises outsource their businesses for a cheaper, sustainable workforce and lower production costs. Migrant workers have managed to scratch out a living in the city and feed their families miles away in impoverished inland provinces. 

At the turn of the century, the city's migrant worker population peaked at the downtown. As deep-pocketed manufacturers like Foxconn Technology Group relocated its largest factory precinct at Longhua Science and Technology Park and set up its recruiting station at Sanhe, a new congregation point for migrant workers took shape in Longhua in 2010, making it a magnet and transfer station for unskilled laborers across Shenzhen and all over the country. 

Located in Bao'an district - one of the twin districts formerly lying outside the Shenzhen Special Economic Zone - Longhua, dubbed the city's back garden, is one of only a few regions in such a megacity where one may find the cheapest workforce and lowest living costs. 

Xu Bin now works at an electronics factory in Shangtang, just two metro stops away from Sanhe. 

The young man in his 30s works 12 hours-plus daily, seven days a week, earning up to 5,000 yuan ($758) a month - a salary he dared not dream of as he idled away at Sanhe. 

Sanhe was Xu's first stop when he set foot in Shenzhen from his native Henan province seven years ago. Snaking through the dense, tangled warrens of the urban villages nearby, he was shocked by the incredibly low living costs in the area dominated by small and medium-sized businesses. 

Urban villages, or "villages within the city", have long served as an enclave of cheap housing for migrant workers and immigrants who have helped support Shenzhen's economic crusade. 

"Thanks to the lively urban villages, I've had no difficulty finding internet bars that charge 1.5 yuan per hour and 6 yuan for the whole night." recalls Xu. "Shabby hotels offer a bed for just 15 yuan and a single room for 30 yuan a night." 

"At the famous Shuangfeng Noodle Restaurant, a bowl of noodles sets you back by just 4 yuan, and it has never raised its price. This is a wonderland for lowly-paid workers. It's equally a playground for job-shy people who just muddle along and idle away." 

Xu's parents are among China's first generation of rural workers, who left their farms decades ago to work on assembly lines or construction sites in coastal cities and are about to retire. 

When Xu took over from his parents to join the second generation of migrant workers, he refused to replicate their old, dull stories. "Working in factories means you are more or less chained to production lines. You punch in, punch out, and repeat the same cycle the next day. I just cannot help asking: What's the point of living a life like that." 

He ended up signing up at Longhua's "Sanhe dashen club" as a worker on call. Next came seeing him throwing away five years at Sanhe, paralyzed by guilt and lost. 

"When I realized I could not go to the dogs anymore, it was already in the winter of 2015. I fled Sanhe and found a full-time job in Shangtang, putting an end to this unbearable memory," says Xu. 

"In Shenzhen's congested and hyperactive urban environment, it can be mind-boggling to see the likes of Sanhe dashen living in such a hyper-passive way," quips Fang. 

"The strange and scrappy underground world of Sanhe bears little resemblance to Shenzhen that we have long been familiar with. There's no shortage of residents who have lived in Longhua for years but have never heard of Sanhe. What's happening in Sanhe sounds like a tale of two cities," he says. 

"A key chapter of the story is about the festering wealth inequality," he notes. "Just a street away from Sanhe labor marketplace, you can find my residence called Longteng Garden. It stands by a small patch of tile-roofed houses - an urban slum recognizable to almost every Longhua dweller at first sight. "Two blocks away, there's a high-end residence called Jinxiu Yuyuan, located next to a swathe of 'handshake' buildings - the iconic concrete block buildings in urban villages that are located so close to one another that neighbors can easily greet each other from within," Fang adds. 

Yang Wancheng, who runs the Shuangfeng Noodle Restaurant, calls Sanhe a "dye vat". "There's no dearth of young and decent people coming here with dreams of landing plum jobs. But, the weak-minded would fall prey to laziness and end up as the so-called dashens." 

He urged those who're still relying on his eatery for a cheap three meals a day to seriously look for a new job. But, he himself won't have much time to see them make the change. A long-awaited redevelopment plan for the area is in place. 

Shenzhen-based developer Vanke plans to use the area as a testing ground for long-term rental apartments with rents ranging between 2,000 and 4,000 yuan a month - well beyond the reach of most migrant workers. 

As the area succumbs to modernity, it won't take long for internet bars, mom-and-pop hotels and corner shops that have made Sanhe a paradise for dirt-poor idlers to call it a day, predicts Yang. 

Manifest destiny 

He sees Sanhe's fading from the scene as manifest destiny - an inevitable part of Shenzhen's ambition to build new, gleaming residential and commercial districts to reflect its legendary rise. But, such unrestrained development should go with some care for migrant workers. 

"In its heyday, the three-story offices of Sanhe Human Resources were a sea of people. But now, the buzzing scenes of recruiting people can only be seen on the ground floor," says Liu Yong, a dashen himself who has lived at Sanhe for a long time. 

Fielding Chen Shiyuan, a Hong Kong-based Asia economist at Bloomberg Intelligence, believes that the ever widening wealth inequality is no excuse for Sanhe's voluntary choice of underemployment and even unemployment. 

But the gap between the vast virtual world depicted by the internet and smartphones, and migrant workers' bleak and limited real-world choices stands as a real issue. Such an issue looms large as migrant workers are exposed to and overwhelmed by the glaring inequality - a time bomb that can find its roots in Shenzhen's meteoric rise, he says. 

Some 35 years ago, Shenzhen was little more than a sleepy fishing village but, since 1979 when it was designated as the country's first special economic zone, the city has become the showpiece of the most rapid urbanization in human history across the Pearl River Delta. 

"Though 'let some people get rich first' was the famous instruction for China's market reforms, it's hard to deny that our society is becoming worryingly unequal. One of the most extreme and often overlooked side products has been Sanhe," says Chen. 

In Longhua today, it's barely possible to find a new housing development with apartments costing an average price of less than 60,000 yuan per square meter. 

"Such a figure may sound unimaginable and meaningless for low-paid migrant workers," Fang points out. "It has become increasingly difficult for the second and third generations of unskilled and low-tech immigrants to find their place in Shenzhen, as the cosmopolis no longer makes its fortunes churning out cheap and labor-intensive clothes, electronics and toys for big foreign brands." 

"Those deemed good for nothing and incapable of creating values and making contributions may end up being abandoned to their fate. That includes people wandering around at the Sanhe labor marketplace, discarded and forgotten by the rest of the world." 

News of Sanhe's sagging fortunes has trickled in almost every other month this year. 

"I've heard the labor marketplace is now on the wane. I've heard of the disappearance of urban villages in the central district of Shenzhen to make way for lucrative commercial and residential projects," says Xu. "I've also heard the days are numbered for the so-called 'low-end' immigrants like me in some cities." 

But Shenzhen should be different, he insists. 

Fang hopes that Shenzhen's craze for skyscrapers should never come at the expense of excluding migrant workers. 

"A combination of urban villages, the labor marketplace and Sanhe dashens does reflect the other half of the world in Longhua and Shenzhen. At any time, we should not lose our awe and introspection for the city's dizzying economic growth and its hefty prices."