In the summer of 1993, 24-year-old Jessica Maranan graduated from the Technological Institute of the Philippines in Manila with a bachelor's degree in electrical engineering. But after she took the licensing exam, she knew there would be a long wait before finding a job as an engineer—if she could land one at all, given the tight market in the Philippines. As her family's only breadwinner, she couldn't afford to wait. So even before her exam results came back, she visited an employment agency in Manila to apply for a job as an unskilled laborer in Taiwan.
After passing a basic IQ test and screening to determine her suitability for working overseas, Maranan paid an agent's fee that she knew would be more than two month's wages at her overseas job. She was then given a position on the assembly line of First International Computer Inc. in Taipei county.
It was a cold, wet January day when she touched down at CKS International Airport near Taipei. Coming from the tropics, she had brought only one thin jacket to brave Taiwan's chilly winters. "I thought it was just the air conditioning in the airport," she recalls. "But when I stepped outside, I realized it was really cold." The weather soon made Maranan homesick for the warm winters back home. "For the first three weeks, I was constantly wondering whether I had made the right decision," she says. But she survived the cold, became used to the new environment, and has made friends with many other workers from home. "There are a lot of us Filipinos here," she says.
Chao Shou-po, chairman of the Council of Labor Affairs—"We need foreign workers, but they are here only as a supplementary work force, not to replace local workers."
Maranan works from midnight to 8:00 AM on weekdays, plus a four-hour shift on Saturday nights. Her job is to check the wiring on First Computer's PC and laptop motherboards and to rewire any that are incorrect. It is not an ideal position for an engineering school graduate, but she isn't complaining. "Certainly it would be best if! could find a job in my field," she says. "There are still some opportunities in the Philippines, but I just couldn't wait long enough to look for one. I guess I was lucky to get this job—it is in some way related to my education."
And after all, money is the primary motive for working in Taiwan. While an engineering position brings about US$200 a month back home, the minimum wage in Taiwan is US$495 a month, not including overtime. And Maranan was fortunate. While many foreign laborers spend six to nine months, and some a full year, paying off the employment agent's fees, she was able to payoff her loan by the time her three-month probation period was over. Now she regularly sends home a substantial amount of money. Knowing this helps when it gets lonely and dull going between the factory and the company dormitory. "My calendar is always in my pocket because I'm always counting the days," she says. "It's a matter of earning money versus homesickness."
Money was also the motivation for 28-year-old Joghtai Chou to close up the dry goods shop he owned in Bangkok and come to Taiwan in June 1993. "Business was not good, so I decided to move to a new environment and give it a try," he says. After scraping together about US$2,000 in loans, he headed to a Bangkok employment broker. After several months of waiting, Chou was given a job as a construction worker and translator (he speaks Mandarin because his father is an ethnic Chinese) at Chiu Tai General Contractors. The company employs 130 Thai workers, and virtually none of them speaks Mandarin or English. Chou and three other translators provide the only communication link between the foreign workers and management.
It takes money to make money—Foreign workers are often forced to pay employment brokers fees of up to US$3,000 for Taiwan jobs. Many spend six months to a year paying off debts.
Chiu Tai is building part of the Taipei mass rapid transit system. Chou and his co-workers spend most of their workday underground, constructing tunnels underneath Taipei's congested thoroughfares. The work is dirty and physically exhausting, and the underground work sites are hot and humid in the summer, chilly and damp in the winter. But with monthly wages of US$800 to US$900, Chou is earning three to four times the amount a white-collar employee makes in Thailand. He is saving money to start a new business when he returns home.
Stories like those of Jessica Maranan and Joghtai Chou have become fairly common in Taiwan since October 1989, when the government opened several labor-intensive industries to foreign workers. The new channel has created a win-win situation for employers and employees; local companies are desperate for blue-collar workers, and even well-educated people in neighboring Southeast Asian countries are willing to do manual labor in Taiwan for good wages.
Still, the Council of Labor Affairs (CLA) of the Executive Yuan is moving cautiously and has set up strict regulations. "We need foreign workers, but they are here only as a supplementary work force, not to replace local workers," says CLA Chairman Chao Shou-po (趙守博). "They should under no circumstances jeopardize job opportunities for domestic workers." The council will continue to allow foreign workers to enter only if they do not create social problems and do not obstruct the upgrading of local industries.
During the first four and a half years after the CLA legalized hiring from overseas, roughly 39,000 companies and individuals applied to hire more than 414,000 alien workers, but the council approved entrance for only 190,000. At present, there are 140,000 foreign laborers working in Taiwan and the number is not likely to grow in the near future. In December 1993, the government froze the number of foreign housekeepers in order to review its labor policy. In April, the freeze was ex tended to construction and factory workers. New workers will be allowed in only to replace existing ones. The only exception is that additional laborers may be allowed to enter to work on major public construction projects.
The government approved foreign housekeepers such as Teresa Ablasa in 1992, but froze their numbers this year. Demand is so high that some families are trying to hire overseas nannies illegally.
Companies that have received a quota of foreign workers from the CLA cannot expand it, and companies whose applications had not yet been approved will have to wait until the freeze is lifted. Such limitations have created problems. Some families desperate for a housekeeper or nanny have attempted to lure foreign workers from their legal jobs with pay averaging US$1,000 per month, twice the legal salary. Some have even posted announcements of illegal job openings in places where overseas housekeepers gather during their off hours. "There are rich people who have not gotten approval to hire foreign housekeepers and can't find local ones," says Shirley Lai (賴雪如), manager of Bank of Boston's Taiwan office and employer of one Filipina housekeeper. "So they pay more to get illegal ones." Of course, workers who get caught are deported.
The only categories of work approved for foreign laborers are construction, labor-intensive manufacturing, housekeeping, and home care for children or the elderly. Among the current population of legal overseas workers, nearly 125,000, or 66 percent, work on private construction projects or for private manufacturers, and 24 percent on major government construction projects. Most of the remainder are housekeepers. Thus far, only foreign laborers from four countries are accepted. About 67 percent come from Thailand, 23 percent from the Philippines, and the rest from Malaysia and Indonesia. (Approximately 90,000 other expatriates live legally in Taiwan as tourists, students, white-collar workers, or spouses of legal residents.)
High pay, low fun—Most foreign workers spend as much time as possible racking up overtime pay. After all, the company dorm offers few diversions after hours.
Foreign laborers can work in Taiwan for a maximum of only two years and cannot return to work after the stint is finished. "Taiwan is too small and too crowded," Chao says. "We don't want these foreign workers to become immigrants." In addition, they cannot change jobs, may not bring their families to Taiwan, cannot marry Taiwan residents, and cannot become pregnant. If any of these regulations are broken, the employee can be fired and deported.
Despite mounting criticism from employers and employees, the CLA has maintained its slow, cautious approach. "There are complaints that the government has set too many limits," says Chao Shou-po. "But since the introduction of foreign workers is still quite new, we need to wait for the software and hardware to mature before opening it further."
The opening of certain industries to overseas workers came after a worsening labor shortage during the 1980s. As Taiwan's economy boomed during that decade, fewer and fewer people were willing to accept low-paying, dirty, or physically demanding jobs. The problem reached a crisis by the end of the 1980s when many factories and construction companies were forced to cut back on production. Some closed down altogether or moved operations overseas.
"We couldn't find local employees," says Chang Rong-tien (張榮田), project manager of the Chiu Tai General Contractors. "We placed many newspaper ads, but not a single person ever applied." So, when it became legal, Chiu Tai and other labor-intensive companies began applying to hire from overseas.
Soulful recreation—Besides serving a spiritual and social function, churches have also become safe places for Filipino workers to voice complaints about employer abuse.
Before the government opened the door to foreign laborers, many were already working on the island illegally. Most had simply entered on a tourist visa, then found a job. After the new regulations went into effect, the government launched a crackdown. More than 70,000 illegal workers have been deported in the past five years.
Statistics show that the influx of new workers has already helped. From 1989 to 1993, the labor shortage fell from an average of 6.8 percent to 1.1 percent in the construction industry, and from 5.2 percent to 2.8 percent overall. Meanwhile, several of the government's major infrastructure projects have been brought back on schedule. The Second Northern Freeway, for example, was slightly behind schedule in August 1989, but by January 1994, was ahead of schedule.
Chang Rong-tien of Chiu Tai explains that overtime work is regularly required to keep construction projects on schedule, but oftentimes only the foreign employees are willing to put in extra hours. "They may not have the necessary skills when they first arrive," Chang says, "but they are the most reliable manpower source and they are always ready to work overtime." Thai worker Joghtai Chou explains, "Our only purpose here is to earn money. We all love to work overtime." A combination of language barriers and a desire to save money keep most Thai workers close to their dormitory after hours. Most would rather be earning extra cash than sitting in their living quarters.
Soulful recreation—Besides serving a spiritual and social function, churches have also become safe places for Filipino workers to voice complaints about employer abuse.
Managers at First International Computer are also happy with their foreign workers. The company employs 139 Filipino laborers, accounting for one-sixth of its assembly-line workers. Paul Hsu (許源純), deputy director of the company's management department, says it takes a week to ten days for the newcomers to learn basic duties, and two to four weeks to master the more complicated testing and repair work. After training, Hsu says foreign employees quickly become productive. "In my experience, there is no problem with the quality of our foreign workers," he says. "They are as capable as local workers in their skills and learning ability."
Domestic help is another area of strong demand for overseas workers. "Local housekeepers are difficult to find and they often don't last long," explains bank manager Shirley Lai. Lai had been dissatisfied with several local housekeepers before turning to an agency specializing in foreigners. It took eight months to work through the application procedure. But ever since Teresa Ablasa arrived from the Philippines to begin work, Lai has been pleased.
Ablasa's culture shock was minimized because she had already worked overseas, serving as a housekeeper in the Middle East until her job was cut short by the Gulf War. In Taiwan, she does the Lai family's housecleaning and laundry, and occasionally watches the two daughters. "She does everything she is asked to," says Shirley Lai. "The word 'no' is not in her vocabulary, which is quite different from local housekeepers." In fact, Ablasa has fit in so well that Lai says the housekeeper no longer seems like an employee. "Teresa is like family," Lai says.
Not all employers have as positive an experience as Shirley Lai. With language barriers, cultural differences, and other difficulties, some companies have opted not to renew the contracts of foreign employees. In cases involving more serious problems, foreign workers have been fired and deported. About 2.5 percent of overseas laborers have been sent home for health reasons such as carrying sexually transmitted diseases. And some have abandoned their original jobs to work illegally for higher pay. This past summer, a spate of such desertions sparked a number of employers to take out newspaper ads offering rewards for "runaways." In addition, police records from 1990 to mid-1993 showed that foreign laborers had committed more than 1,500 felonies and thefts.
One surprising downside to employing foreign workers is that they are often more expensive than local hires. Although their wages are typically lower than those of domestic workers, employers must pay a number of extra fees. First, all employers are required to pay a monthly "employment stability fee" of US$50 per worker or US$80 per housekeeper to a government fund used for vocational training of local workers. In addition, most companies cover room and board, some hire special cooks, and most must pay extra for translators. With these expenses factored in, employers are paying much more than the minimum monthly wage of US$495 for a 44-hour week. Chiu Tai, for example, spends more than US$1,148 a month on each foreign worker, including salary. And while local workers demand US$1,630 to US$2,440 a month, company project manager Chang Rong-tien says miscellaneous costs such as on-the-job training and an initial lack of efficiency all add up. Many laborers come to Taiwan with only an elementary school education, making training sessions longer and slower. "It is definitely not cheaper to hire foreign workers," Chang says.
First International Computer also spends more on its overseas hires. Compared with local workers, the company pays US$37 to US$74 more per month on each foreign employee. But both companies stress that paying more for foreign workers is preferable to working understaffed.
On the employee side, many foreign workers have also experienced difficulties in Taiwan. During the past year, local papers have often carried stories on overseas laborers suffering from overwork, reduced pay, mistreatment, and sexual harassment by their employers. Complaints from Filipino domestic workers became so severe this past spring that the Philippine government issued a series of unilateral requirements including demands that prospective employers disclose financial information and that Filipina housemaids be given basic medical insurance. The CLA refused to accept the requirements but soothed tensions somewhat by urging Filipinos to come to the council with disputes.
Since then, both sides have also drawn up new regulations. Among these, Taiwan has agreed to help protect Filipino workers from being overcharged by employment agents by requiring new hires to show their payment receipts upon arrival. The Philippine government has agreed to provide more documentation on workers' family backgrounds and previous occupations in order to help employers catch laborers who abandon legal jobs for illegal ones.
All foreign employees enjoy the protection of the ROC Labor Standards Law, which covers minimum wage, vacation time, basic health insurance (except for housekeepers), and the rights to file complaints and to join local unions (although there are very few local unions to be joined). Upon their arrival, all foreign laborers receive a handout on this law, printed in several languages. Those with disputes can file complaints with the CLA, their government's official representative office, or with their employment agency. Many religious groups also serve as unofficial counselors and representatives for foreign laborers.
The biggest problem faced by workers is overcharging from the employment agents in Taiwan and in their home countries. The hiring process works like this: Employers pay US$940 to US$1,130 to a local agent in Taiwan to cover a worker's transportation, paperwork, and health examination. This fee is regulated by the CLA. But problems arise when that agent "sells" job openings at exorbitant prices to an agency in Thailand or the Philippines. Competition for Taiwan jobs is fierce among foreign brokers, and Taiwan agents can auction them to the highest bidder. Unfortunately, these costs are ultimately passed on to the would-be worker.
The result is that workers face fees of US$1,850 up to more than US$3,000—huge sums of money in the Philippines where the average per capita income is less than US$800 per year. To get the necessary funds, laborers must sell off property, borrow money from friends and family, or take out loans, sometimes at high interest rates. In the worst cases of agency fraud, workers have racked up massive debts only to arrive in Taiwan to find no job.
The ROC, along with the Thai and Philippine governments, is cracking down on employment agencies. More than one hundred Filipino brokers have been jailed in the past five years for illegal practices, and in Thailand this year, five brokers lost their licenses and forty-seven received warnings. In Taiwan, a bill now in the Legislature would make it illegal for local employment agents to charge overseas brokers more than the foreign country allows—important since it is these fees that in turn push foreign brokers to overcharge prospective workers.
Perhaps most significantly, officials from the various countries involved are working together to create a system in which employers bypass brokers and hire workers directly through government offices. This would cut worker's fees to a few hundred dollars. Plans are already under way to use such a system in hiring Filipino laborers to work at the Science-based Industrial Park in Hsinchu and at export processing zones around the island.
Once workers arrive and begin working, their biggest problems are usually adjusting to the hard work and long hours on the job, and to the boredom and regimentation after work. Most construction and factory workers live in company dormitories, eat company food, and live by company curfews and bedtimes. The only leisure activities may be reading, drinking, gambling, and chatting with co-workers.
The language barrier, too, can be extremely frustrating. When the translator can't be found, the workers must communicate with management through gestures and pantomime. This can turn small concerns into major problems. And some workers become depressed when they find that their jobs bring them little respect. Teresa Ablasa says her niece, who also works as a housekeeper in Taipei, often complains that she is not respected by her employers and is verbally abused by their children. The niece even considered canceling her contract and going home, but finally decided to stay on for the money.
The biggest fear among employers is that dissatisfied foreign workers will either run away or go on strike. Besides being careful to communicate rights and responsibilities clearly with workers, some companies have learned to keep worker morale high by providing extras such as newspapers, magazines, and videotapes from the home country, and setting up lounge areas equipped with a sound system or ping-pong tables.
A few companies take their employees on day trips to scenic areas, or host special activities on foreign holidays. Last April, Chiu Tai celebrated the Songkran, or Thai New Year. The entire company took part in holiday activities, including the tradition of throwing water at one another. "Almost everyone in the company—foreign and local—joined in the water throwing," says Chang Cho-chen (常焯宸), Chiu Tai's public relations manager. "We all got soaked, but it felt good to see our workers having fun." He points out that Chiu Tai management boned up on Thai culture before hiring its foreign workers.
In addition, the expatriate groups are beginning to create social resources for themselves. For example, on Sundays, a number of churches in Taipei are filled with Filipino workers. "We don't go just for the religion," says housekeeper Teresa Ablasa. "We meet after Mass to exchange information on work, salaries, and many other things." Thai workers have fewer social gathering places, although some companies have erected Buddhist shrines where they can worship, and some occasionally splurge at a Thai restaurant.
Despite homesickness, language barriers, and culture shock, many foreign workers hope the ROC government will extend the current maximum stay in Taiwan. Two years is precious little time to payoff the employment agent's fee, then save money for one's own family. "It takes five or six years to really earn money," says Linda Arcangel, a Filipina worker at First Computer. "The ROC government should give us the chance to come back if we have a good record."