Santa's real workshop: the town in China that
makes the world's Christmas decorations
Inside the
‘Christmas village’ of Yiwu, there’s no snow and no elves, just 600 factories
that produce 60% of all the decorations in the world
Oliver Wainwright
Friday 19 December 2014 / http://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/architecture-design-blog/2014/dec/19/santas-real-workshop-the-town-in-china-that-makes-the-worlds-christmas-decorations?CMP=fb_gu
Wei gets through at least 10
face masks each day, trying not to breathe in the cloud of red dust.
Photograph: Imaginechina/Rex
There’s red on the ceiling and red on the
floor, red dripping from the window sills and red globules splattered across
the walls. It looks like the artist Anish Kapoor has been let loose with his
wax cannon again. But this, in fact, is what the making of Christmas looks like;
this is the very heart of the real Santa’s workshop – thousands of miles from
the North Pole, in the Chinese city of Yiwu .
Our yuletide myth-making might like to
imagine that Christmas is made by rosy-cheeked elves hammering away in a
snow-bound log cabin somewhere in the Arctic Circle .
But it’s not. The likelihood is that most of those baubles, tinsel and flashing
LED lights you’ve draped liberally around your house came from Yiwu, 300km
south of Shanghai
– where there’s not a (real) pine tree nor (natural) snowflake in sight.
Christened “China’s Christmas village”,
Yiwu is home to 600 factories that collectively churn out over 60% of all the
world’s Christmas decorations and accessories, from glowing fibre-optic trees
to felt Santa hats. The “elves” that staff these factories are mainly migrant
labourers, working 12 hours a day for a maximum of £200 to £300 a month – and
it turns out they’re not entirely sure what Christmas is.
“Maybe it’s like [Chinese] New Year for
foreigners,” says 19-year-old Wei, a worker who came to Yiwu from rural Guizhou province this
year, speaking to Chinese news agency Sina. Together with his father, he works
long days in the red-splattered lair, taking polystyrene snowflakes, dipping
them in a bath of glue, then putting them in a powder-coating machine until
they turn red – and making 5,000 of the things every day.
In the process, the two of them end up
dusted from head to toe in fine crimson powder. His dad wears a Santa hat (not
for the festive spirit, he says, but to stop his hair from turning red) and
they both get through at least 10 face masks a day, trying not to breathe in
the dust. It’s a tiring job and they probably won’t do it again next year: once
they’ve earned enough money for Wei to get married, they plan on returning home
to Guizhou
and hopefully never seeing a vat of red powder again.
Packaged up in plastic bags, their gleaming
red snowflakes hang alongside a wealth of other festive paraphernalia across
town in the Yiwu International Trade Market, aka China Commodity
City , a 4m sq m
wonder-world of plastic tat. It is a pound shop paradise, a sprawling trade
show of everything in the world that you don’t need and yet may, at some
irrational moment, feel compelled to buy. There are whole streets in the
labyrinthine complex devoted to artificial flowers and inflatable toys, then
come umbrellas and anoraks, plastic buckets and clocks. It is a heaving
multistorey monument to global consumption, as if the contents of all the
world’s landfill sites had been dug-up, re-formed and meticulously catalogued
back into 62,000 booths.
The complex was declared by the UN to be
the “largest small commodity wholesale market in the world” and the scale of
the operation necessitates a kind of urban plan, with this festival of commerce
organised into five different districts. District Two is where Christmas can be
found.
There are corridors lined with nothing but
tinsel, streets throbbing with competing LED light shows, stockings of every
size, plastic Christmas trees in blue and yellow and fluorescent pink, plastic
pine cones in gold and silver. Some of it seems lost in translation: there are
sheep in Santa hats and tartan-embroidered reindeer, and of course lots of that
inexplicable Chinese staple, Father Christmas playing the saxophone.
It might look like a wondrous bounty, but
the market’s glory days seem to have passed: it’s now losing out to internet
giants like Alibaba and Made In China. On Alibaba alone, you can order 1.4m
different Christmas decorations to be delivered to your door at the touch of a
button. Yiwu market, by comparison, stocks a mere 400,000 products.
Aiming at the lower end of the market,
Yiwu’s sales thrived during the recession, as the world shopped for cut-price
festive fun, but international sales are down this year. Still, according to
Cai Qingliang, vice chairman of the Yiwu Christmas Products Industry Association,
domestic appetite is on the rise, as China embraces the annual festival
of Mammon. Santa Claus, says the Economist, is now better known to most Chinese
people than Jesus.
The beaming sales reps of Yiwu market
couldn’t sound happier with their life sentence of eternal Christmastime.
According to Cheng Yaping, co-founder of the Boyang Craft Factory, who runs a
stall decked out like a miniature winter wonderland: “Sitting here every day,
being able to look at all these beautiful decorations, is really great for your
mood.”
It’s somehow unlikely that those on the
other end of the production line, consigned to dipping snowflakes in
red-swamped workshops for us to pick up at the checkout for 99p, feel quite the
same way.
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