Chinese toymakers' struggles dim Christmas joy
In Dongguan, where many of Santa's toys are really made, nearly half of the 3,800 toy factories have closed or plan to. That has left thousands of workers, mostly migrants, without jobs.
Reporting from Dongguan, China — Growing up in the Chinese countryside with only an elementary school education, Yang Yanjun had never heard of Christmas until she landed a job painting pink-cheeked cherubs to decorate trees.
But Christmas proved to be a miraculous holiday that would utterly transform her life. Over a decade, she worked in factories producing ornaments and toys that foreign children were told came from Santa's workshops. She earned up to $200 a month, unimaginable riches that allowed her to build a house for her family back home.
Now the Christmas miracle has gone bust.
The financial meltdown that has thrown so many American families into crisis might be even worse on this side of the world. The precipitous drop in consumer demand has translated into a wave of factory closings that have spit millions of Chinese workers out into the ranks of the unemployed. The fallout is most obvious in Dongguan, a southern Chinese city that despite its palm trees and sultry climate may be the real-life North Pole.
Until recently, Dongguan had 3,800 toy factories, producing a staggering 30% of the world's toys. A trade group here estimates that 1,800 of them have closed or will close in the coming months.
The 37-year-old Yang lost her job making hairpieces for Barbie dolls in October, when Smart Union Toys abruptly closed down. It had been a major supplier to Mattel and Disney, and one of the largest employers in town with 7,000 workers. Now there are only a handful of security guards who watch over a courtyard strewn with empty toy boxes and soggy plush dolls, a scene looking like the morning after a Christmas party gone awry.
Most of the workers, migrants like Yang who came from central China, have gone home. Houses are empty, shops shuttered. The neighborhood looks like a ghost town. But Yang has stayed on looking for work, desperate for money to repair the house she built near the central Chinese city of Chongqing.
Every morning and every afternoon she goes out, walking past the padlocked gates hoping to find a factory still in business and perhaps hiring.
Notices are taped to some of the gates, but with too many people chasing too few jobs, employers are picky. The notices specify young workers with high school educations and computer skills. Some require heights over 5-feet-9 for men and 5-feet-1 for women. Height is one of a number of obsessions in the workplace here.
