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Qiaoyun was an earnest university graduate who aspired to a life of middle-class comfort in construction management after surviving a four-year program in civil engineering.
To her bewilderment, her boss told her to roll up her sleeves and get to work on a construction site. Despite a steep learning curve, the work grew on her and she developed a religious devotion to the job.
This is her story, first published in Chinese by We Are People with Stories on Feb. 24.
Take care and see you soon.
—ML
Despite the Odds, I'm Proud I'm a Female Construction Worker
By Sister Qiaoyun
Edited by Huohuo
A female worker gathers materials at a construction site in the eastern city of Jiujiang on Dec. 3, 2013. Credit: Humphery.
1.
After graduating from university, I joined a construction company in Suzhou. Other recent graduates were assigned to posts in budgeting and research, while I was made a construction worker.
Noticing my surprise, my boss said with a broad smile: "Didn't you say in your resume that you're someone who can handle hardship? That's a great quality in a construction worker."
Should a girl really become a construction worker? I was full of jitters, but I didn't want to back down, so I just gave myself a silent pep talk. Skyscrapers are built from scratch and women are among their builders. This is a glorious profession.
The sun was shining brightly on my first day at work. The "glorious profession" was found in the foundation pitch, where several workers were assembling reinforcement steel bars, aka rebars. I took a tour of the construction site with Manager Li.
Two workers carrying several rebars approached us, grunting to maintain pace. I ducked to the side, only to hear a rip—my pants were torn by a rebar parked nearby.
The pants were a present I bought for myself to celebrate my job offer. They cost nearly half of my monthly budget and now they were wrecked on their first outing.
Manager Li could read my thoughts. He said in an earnest tone: "Xiao (Junior) Zhang, in our line of work, entering a construction site is like setting foot on a battlefield. We stick to ragged clothing, so we don't have to worry about wear and tear. As for footwear, it's best you wear safety shoes." He glanced at my feet and added: "Sandals are totally inappropriate. You better lose them tomorrow."
My face blushed. I had spent half my savings on my wardrobe for Day One. When I first set foot in the foundation ditch, dirt gushed into my sandals. It was still stuck on the soles of my feet.
After leaving the foundation pitch, we observed workers performing ground firming. Manager Li told me to pay attention to the ratio between pebbles and yellow sand cement being poured into the mixer. The cement mixer churned loudly as a breeze swept by. My brand new lace blouse was instantly encased in dust. Manager Li was right—I should have worn my 4-year-old t-shirt.
As 10 a.m. passed, the sun started blazing. My safety helmet felt like it was gradually tightening. Sweat had washed away my sunblock and my naked skin was burning from the exposure. As the glass of water I drank in the morning filtered through my system, I started to wonder: "Where was the female toilet?"
A female worker told me the construction site wasn't equipped with toilets. The men took care business wherever, while most of the female workers were working alongside their husbands. They simply found a quiet corner and had their husbands keep watch. My bladder was about to burst and I was secretly cursing. What should I do?
After circling the construction site twice, I still hadn't mustered the courage to take care of business in a "quiet" corner. It felt like my stomach was on the verge of exploding. I was too embarrassed to ask Manager Li for help. When I spotted a few private residences nearby, I decided to try my luck. In one household, a middle-aged woman was hanging out in the courtyard. When I explained my plight, she responded quickly: "Not a big deal at all. From now on, you can use our toilet."
I felt utterly relaxed after resolving a major issue. I was also overcome with emotion. Who knew that such a small matter would turn into such a big issue on a construction site?
2.
Finally, it was time for lunch. The construction site came with a small cafeteria for managers that was staffed by a handful of people. Someone called Old Huang was the chef. Lunch looked decent—four main courses and a soup, with a balanced meat-to-veggie ratio.
I picked up a piece of braised pork with my chopsticks. On my very first bite, it didn't taste right. What was that poking at my mouth? I gave Manager Li a puzzled look. He whispered while Old Huang left to fetch rice in the kitchen: "Next time remember to skip the skin when you have braised pork. Old Huang uses pork with skin. All he does is shave the hair with a razor." The comment left me too disgusted to down the meat, let alone the skin.
Noticing my discomfort, Manager Li said: "If you don't like the meat, try the soup then. The fish soup is quite delicious."
Sitting smack in the middle of the table was a pot of crucian carp and tofu soup. Apart from a hefty crucian carp that looked like it weighed at least 500 grams, the pot was also filled with pieces of tofu and agaric. Chopped scallion was scattered over the milky white soup base. Salivating indeed.
Noticing that the tofu count was very abundant, I went for a scoop. Wait, what is that?
A palm-sized object emerged and flopped onto the table. I took a careful look. It was brownish and had frills. A used rag!
It felt as if a tsunami raged in my stomach.
Manager Li put down his chopsticks. "Old Huang, what's up with this?"
Old Huang was also in shock. He stuttered: "I wash my rags very thoroughly..."
After stumbling through lunch, sensing that I was struggling, Manager Li summoned me for a chat.
"The working conditions on a construction site are indeed tougher than on a regular post. Our security guards are doubling as cooks. They're used to winging it. The reason we had such a sumptuous meal is to welcome you. The meals are just going to get worse from now on. If it's too much for you, I can have you transferred to an office position."
I fell silent.
Should I stay or leave?
I glanced at the blueprint of the project hanging on the office wall, then touched my burning cheeks. Two voices were duking it out in my head.
One said: "The whole point of studying civil engineering for four years was to put your knowledge to practice. Even though conditions are tough here, it's a great opportunity to showcase your ability. Once you gain enough experience in the field, it'll be easy to transfer to another post. You can't back out now."
The other: "A construction site isn't for girls. Look at how dainty you are. Do you want to turn charcoal in a month? Just listen to Manager Li and head back to the office."
I lifted my head. "Manager Li, I..."
Manager Li snuffed his cigarette in his ashtray and shook his head ever-so-gently, as if he had seen right through me.
I blurted: "Manager Li, I'm not the type to shy away from hardship. Of course I'm going to stay on the construction site!"
Manager Li slapped his desk. "Good for you, young lady! Determined people like you are exactly what a construction site needs!"
3.
Having made such a grand and bold statement, now I had to back it up with action, no matter how ill-prepared I was.
My first challenge was the reluctance of male workers to being supervised by a young woman. In their minds, their supervisor should be a tough man like Manager Li, not a fresh graduate who also happened to be a woman.
One day I was inspecting the plastering work being done on an outer wall. I noticed a certain worker's patch was clearly uneven. I told him politely: "Master, if you do it this way air bubbles will form easily when we apply tiles."
The worker didn't take it well at all. He retorted in a loud voice: "What does a young girl fresh out of school know? Why don't you give it a try yourself?" He proceeded to instigate me by tossing a bucket of plaster from the scaffolding onto the ground. Following a bang, my shoes and pants were splattered with plaster. I tried to take it in stride, but I eventually burst into tears and fled the scene. A round of laughter trailed my exit.
I collapsed on my desk and kept crying. Then I heard someone knocking gently on my helmet. It was Manager Li.
He said with a smile: "I heard what happened. Look at you—crying over something minor like this. If that's the case, there's a lot more crying ahead of you. You know what? If you were a guy, you might have received a beating."
I stopped crying and looked at him incredulously.
"That's the way workers are. That Wang Daming fellow is a coarse man who prides himself on his technical skills. Even I as the project manager have to coddle him. You have to operate strategically." Noticing that I had stopped crying, he added: "How about this? I have a small idea that will turn him into an obedient little lamb."
At the daily morning briefing the next day, Manager Li told the workers: "Today our new construction supervisor Xiao Zhang will be inspecting everyone's work. If there are issues, she may take action. Everyone get ready to show her your work from yesterday."
The workers still wore bemused and contemptuous looks on their faces. I started my inspection with an intense expression.
When it got to Wang Daming's turn, he looked to the sky, as if not giving a damn. I ignored him and proceeded with my inspection. When I was done, I told him five patches of his work were too uneven and that he was being fined 20 yuan (US$3) for a total of 100 yuan.
The veins on Wang Daming's face popped. He lunged toward me, pointed at my nose and yelled: "I dare you to do so!"
Manager Li intervened. "Hey Daming, you are still bound by company policy. Otherwise how are we to ensure quality?" He then turned to me. "How about this, Supervisor Zhang? Let's make it 50 yuan a spot." Wang Daming backed down. Manager Li continued: "Even though Supervisor Zhang is young, she has quite a bit of professional expertise. I want everyone to respect her from now on. It's hard enough being a woman on a construction site."
Now everyone got the message. Manager Li was setting the tone by staging a good cop-bad cop routine with me.
From then on, everyone started to listen to me. My job became much easier. I learned when to be strict and when to joke around a bit. Soon I could mingle with the workers as well as Manager Li.
4.
Nothing new happens under the sun. Whatever happens to other construction workers also happens to me.
One day I was performing the routine task of marking construction grids when I came across a pile of mortar. I was too lazy to walk around it, so I leapt over it. As soon as my feet landed, I yelled in pain. I had landed on the nail of an abandoned form board, which pierced through the bottom of my shoe.
A fellow worker rushed over. Experienced with similar injuries, he removed the nail, then my shoe, and slapped the bottom of my sole hard a few times. He said it was a precaution against tetanus.
Then two others helped me downstairs, where they found me a ride to the hospital for a tetanus shot. I cried the entire journey. One of the workers who went with me struggle to stifle a smile. Eventually he said: "Look at you all cocky on the construction site, lecturing us on this and that, yet when you cry you're just like a little kid."
As I wiped my tears, I thought to myself: "At the end of the day I'm still a girl! I was terrified of shots when I was in university. How can I not freak out when a nail pierces through my foot? What if I get tetanus? What if I can't wear heels anymore?"
Of course I recovered just fine. Still, many other obstacles remained, especially those that pertained to my gender.
As keen a learner I was, I found that developers and project managers were still prejudiced against female construction workers. They seemed convinced that I wouldn't stay on the job long, and that even if I did, I would never rival a male construction worker in technical know-how. They think that women simply aren't fast enough learners in science and engineering.
I kept my mouth shut. I wanted to prove to them through my actual work that no mountain was too high, that as long as I was adaptable and resourceful, I could handle whatever they threw at me.
Wanting to take advantage of cooler conditions at the height of summer, workers typically arrive at the construction site at 4 or 5 a.m. I arrive at the same time and inspect completed procedures immediately. I then address any deficiencies with additional technical advice, so that problems are nipped at the bud.
I always mark construction grids myself. By the end of the day, my clothes are typically covered in ink blots. The torn pants came in handy after all.
As for the clients who like to goof around and ignore their contractual obligations, as well as the project managers who like to force women to drink at banquets, I take them in stride. I can't offend them, but I have to resolve the situation on hand.
I resemble a cactus that scours the earth for nutrients despite landing in the desert.
There's no point in planning the future because it will unfold naturally.
Manager Li says among my batchmates, I'm the one who has seen the most professional growth. I agree.
For example, the second time I stepped on a nail I was much calmer. I limped to the closest water tap and rinsed my wound as I applied pressure, before slowly proceeding to the hospital for my tetanus shot. I didn't panic or cry.
Also, as I gradually gain more practical experience, be it the vetting of blueprints or technical briefings, clients and project managers alike ask for my input first. They think I'm able to marry book knowledge and real-life circumstance in a way that's more meticulous than male construction workers.
Still, being a construction site, there are many things I can't change. At meetings, which typically comprise mostly middle-aged men, everyone is chain-smoking, which leaves me hacking. The men also make inappropriate jokes and comments that often turn my face beet red.
But these are relatively minor matters that I got used to over time.
5.
Everything was taking a turn for the better—only my marital status was a thorn. If there's a pecking order in the dating market, then construction workers are on the lower end of the spectrum, with female construction workers placing at the bottom.
Friends and relatives made many introductions, but once my dates laid eyes on me, they lost interest in learning about my inner beauty. The thing is, given the amount of UV exposure I've been subject to over the years, as much skincare as I performed, my face was still dark and tan. I even pitied myself when I looked in the mirror.
But as luck had it, one day when I was visiting the auntie who offered me regular use of her bathroom, she said her son was around. She was about to make dumplings for him. It seemed fun, so I learned how to make them too.
After a while, auntie's son joined us. We started chatting. I told him funny stories from the construction site and described the challenges of being a female construction worker. He was very moved, saying how we were remarkable builders.
Eventually I had to head back to work. Auntie's son asked in a longing tone: "Are you coming back tomorrow?" Auntie then gave us both a knowing gaze. I turned bright red.
And so we started dating and eventually got married. My husband likes to joke: "Other women who get married demand full apartments. My wife just wanted a bathroom."
When my son was five months old, our company signed on to build a chemical plant in Ningxia Province. Because I had relevant experience, I was assigned to the project.
It was painful breastfeeding my son one last time before I left. I touched his bright pink cheeks and said: "My child, mommy's going to be back soon. Be well." My son had no idea what I was saying, instead feasting on my breast milk and flashing an innocent smile.
The next day I boarded a train to Ningxia. Before even arriving at my destination I got a call from home. My husband said my son refused to drink baby formula. Being a baby, he was unable to express himself, but whenever a milk bottle approached, he started to howl. The sound of my son crying left my hand shivering as it clutched my phone. I was heartbroken and soon started to cry with him.
My husband asked in a probing tone: "Maybe you can talk to your boss and suggest sending a replacement?"
By then I was already a seasoned construction worker. The decision to go to Ningxia was carefully thought through. I was clear that this was the nature of the job—we went wherever the projects were located. Having chosen this line of work, I was destined to kiss a stable life goodbye.
I refused my husband's suggestion and proceeded to the project.
Less than a month later, I got another call from home. My son had a weak immune system from not drinking enough baby formula and came down with a cold. This was the first time he got sick.
My heart felt like it was being placed on a sizzling grill. Son, it's mommy's fault. I've made you suffer. You need a mother to stay by your side, yet the project needs an experienced construction worker. What should mommy do?
Because the project was technically challenging and we were on a tight schedule, I didn't go home for the first time until two months later. My once-chubby son had lost quite a bit of weight. My husband told my son: "It's mommy. Quick, let her hug you." My son clung to my husband's neck, throwing me a quick glance before turning around again.
By the end of my three-day break, my son became much closer to me, but it was time for me to head back. He cried hysterically, until his tiny face went blush.
The next time I went home was Lunar New Year. By then he had started speaking. When he saw me, he said in a petulant tone: "Auntie."
From then on, my son started to call frequently. Without exception he would plead in a sad voice: "Mommy, it's getting dark. My neighbors' moms have all gone home. How come you don't come back? I'll be a good boy. Please come home soon."
The Ningxia project took three years to complete. My son lost valuable time with his mother and my husband missed out the ordinary life of a married couple. Yet I grew professionally in leaps and bounds, even becoming familiar with the construction of instruments at a chemical plant. I also became more mature and aware of the scope of my job.
Postscript
At the end of last year, my bosses approached me wondering if being in the field was too exhausting, especially for a woman. They asked me if I wanted to transfer to an office position. I refused without hesitation.
Having worked in the field all these years, being a construction worker was no longer just about making ends meet. Witnessing skyscrapers sprout before me, with some even becoming local landmarks, I feel a burgeoning sense of pride. It's like watching my own children grow up.
Maybe these are the emotions unique to a construction worker, especially a female construction worker. I will continue on the job, forging ahead regardless of the odds, and blossom as a steel rose.