migrant labor

It’s a family affair

Along a quiet part of Huoshan Lu (霍山路), an old, wrinkled woman was parked by the curb in a rattan chair, quietly fanning herself. Surrounding her were two…

A day of rest

He was sitting alone, surrounded by concrete sand and mud, reading a newspaper on top of a tiny table. Behind him was his home, a large blue storage…

The steel nest

I’ve always wondered how much steel is required to hold up an entire building. Tons, I imagine, snaking through concrete and plaster. I watched a group of construction workers…

Shanghai’s scrapers

The other day, a woman fell out of the sky and missed me by an inch. You think I’m making this up? I was hurriedly striding along the…

Work’s Momentum

In their hands, these workers carried bricks that once made up houses that are now no more, in neighborhoods that the next generation will have no idea once existed….

A negotiation in bread

The jolly baker was a fixture at the market where teaming masses of human bodies bumped and jostled their way around. He always had a smile on his…