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Dispatch → Factbook → Culture
A New Carthaginian Factory Worker's Life
This is a day in the life of Richard, a factory worker from New Carthagea. Dickie, as his family and friends affectionately call him, is a 52 year old man living in a little town up in the hilly regions by the plains of Peliera. The quiet, rural town of a few thousand would not have been even known to the rest of humanity if not for the car factory, which lies a few miles from the town centre. The men of most of the towns and villages near Dickie's work in the factory, and so have their fathers and grandfathers. This is his story.
At around six o'clock in the morning, Dickie wakes up from his sleep, and stops the alarm which buzzes with a rather irritating noise. The clock was gifted to him by his father, when he landed his job at the car factory almost 3 decades ago. He brushes his teeth, bathes and dresses in the ironed, bright blue uniform which lies on the bed, probably put there by his wife or daughter. After combing whatever hair remains on his balding head, and goes down to the hall. He's greeted with a "Good Morning" by his wife Nancy, who was cooking pancakes. She hands Dickie a cup of tea, and goes back to the kitchen.
As Dickie sips his cuppa, he finds his daughter, Mary, going to school. The little 14 year old waves him goodbye, and leaves for the school near the town centre. He finished the tea, and comes to the dining table to find some tasty pancakes ready for him. He takes the plate and starts eating them, whilst reading The Messenger, the local newspaper. In the hall is an old TV on a wooden desk, with a comfortable-looking sofa, and an old portrait of Queen Elizabeth II. It is a remnant of Peliera's long-lasting obsession with British rule.
Dickie, his ancestors, and most people in the region where he lives are of British descent. They settled here almost two centuries ago, when the British ruled over the land that is now New Carthagea. Although the British no longer rule over the land, the love and affection for their native land reigns over their heart. Although the sentiment is no longer seen in the younger generations, Dickie's generation, and the his ancestors always wished for New Carthagea's secession to the United Kingdom. That's how rather bizarre organisations such as the BLNC formed.
The delicious English pancakes Dickie had for his breakfast
In the old days, Dickie's father even rioted against the New Carthaginian government, along with thousands of his fellow British descendants. They vandalized public property, burnt portraits of the New Carthaginian Queen, and even sent a letter to the British Prime Minister to allow them to secede into the UK. However, in the complex world of geopolitics, it didn't work out, and soon, younger generations, realising the wonderful job prospects cities in other regions of New Carthagea had to offer, lost the pro-British tendencies. Some old people, like Dickie, though, stuck with their memories.
After he finished his pancakes, he bid adieu to Nancy, kissed her on the cheek, and walked to the oak tree by William Street's end. There, he met up with his childhood friends, and now colleagues. They talk for sometime about various things, from the upcoming elections to the war for Carthage. Then, the familiar sound of the good ol' VW bus being driven by their friend Albert approaches closer to them.
As Albert stopped the van near the friends, they all greeted him with a "Good Morning", and climbed into the old VW bus. They had purchased it almost 3 decades ago, when they had first gotten their jobs, by pooling in some small amounts of money. The 7 men started to travel the distance of around 10 kilometres to the factory. Some of the road is paved, some of it is just dirt. It is a rather bumpy ride, but what surrounds the road on either sides is more fascinating. There are vast expanses of green grass, wet with the morning's dew, covering the mountains, with the occasional Birch tree and a beautiful Lily of the Valley greeting you with its beauty.
Then again, one must not be fooled by the nature's splendid beauty. The lives of the people who live here are as bumpy as the road they traverse everyday. In the past two decades, as labour became cheaper in Asia, many local and foreign car manufacturers started shifting all or most of their production to those countries, and the industrial workers in New Carthagea were hit very bad. Dickie was very lucky, as almost half the workforce in his factory was laid out a few years ago, but Dickie was spared. After about half an hour, they reached the factory. Albert parked the car in the empty ground in front of the factory, and they got ready for the day of work ahead.
The men walked towards the giant structure that is the factory, and the heavens started pouring down upon them all of a sudden. The man started to run into the factory to get away from the precipitation, and soon reached the interior. There, they were treated to the saggy, serious and unlikeable face of their boss, the factory manager. Certain things in the world, such as love, hunger and hatred of your bosses, are universal. Their reporting time was nine in the morning, and it was 6 minutes past nine by the time the men arrived ; they knew they were in trouble.
The giant, yet short Gallo-Phoenician man descended the flight of stairs and started howling at the men like a mad dog. Dickie felt like smashing the man into the wall, but he resisted the urge, for decades. The factories in Peliera had workers of British descent, but the people who owned and managed the factories were all rich Gallo-Phoenicians from Rhonesia and Gauthalonia. Over the years, as British people in Peliera kept getting poorer and backward, Gallo-Phoenicians grew richer and richer, eventually holding most of the businesses in Peliera. This was one of the main reasons for the Pelierans' hatred of Phoenicians, they were a majority in the country who controlled all the money and power, and sidelined the Britishers.
After almost 5 minutes, the Manager finally stopped his ranting, and commanded them to get to the work station. The relieved men started to get to their places for work, including Dickie. Dickie was a supervisor, he was made one a few years ago for his long tenure of service in the factory. He is the chief of a small group of 5 people, who are responsible for the painting of the cars which have been produced. Earlier, it used to be a bustling, lively team of 25 men, but now, due to modern machinery, most of them have been laid out. There, he sits down in the chair, and his young subordinate William greets him. He commands William to start doing the paint-jobs of the day, and sits down in his old, wooden chair, slowly drifting to sleep, and his past memories.
Until the 1960s, Peliera was a vibrant and rich state, with higher standards of living and wealth than any of the other regions of the country. The factories were owned by British owners, and the workers who worked in them were British. They were paid and taken care of well, and a certain amount of money from each worker's annual salary was cut off and added to the communal fund, which was used for procuring food during any shortages, as Peliera's soil was quite alkaline and mostly unfit for agriculture. All of this changed in the 1970s, when Frederica Adhamanon of the Conservatives came to power.
Under her reign, which marked the beginning of the prosperity of New Carthagea, was the end of the happy times for Peliera. With power and authority, she covertly forced British factory owners to sell their units to Gallo-Phoenician owners and car companies, effectively removed the stable system of employee benefits the former owners had established, and abolished the communal funds, all in the name of communal integration. Soon, low-paid and hungry Pelierans started moving in drones to cities in Rhonesia and Gauthalonia, a fact that is proven by the fact that the state's population has been decreasing continuously for the past 4 decades despite having above-replacement fertility rate.
Many of Dickie's neighbours and relatives left, too, but some strong-willed ones like him stayed on. The days weren't, and aren't really great. Sometimes, food prices can go so high that he and his wife skip their meals for feeding their daughter enough. At the end of the day, though, he is happy with the quiet, peaceful life he has. Just as he smiles while remembering the memories of the good, ol'days, a blood-curdling scream wakes him up. He is in shock and surprise, and as he looks toward the source of the noise, he finds it, and it ain't a pleasant sight.
He looks towards the assembly line, and finds Louis, a colleague of his, lies on the ground, with all his tools lying scattered around him. He tries to speak something, but he looks too exhausted to do so. Dickie, and others in the factory start running towards him, and find him, looking extremely pale and exhausted. Louis had been working on a night shift, and had to leave at six that morning, but the manager forced him to stay and work for longer due to increased workload. He hadn't eaten or drunk any water for the past 12 hours, had been breaking his back and eyes, screwing in countless number of nuts and bolts into dozens of cars, and his frail, 57-year old body finally gave up.
As the workers started giving him some water and food, the grumbling manager came to inspect the sitaution. Visibly irritated, he called the ambulance. He ordered Dickie and the rest to go back to their work, and said that the hospital would take care of him. Louis was then taken to the hospital. This was not the first time a thing like this has happened. Many of Dickie's colleagues had fallen unconscious, or developed irrecoverable joint conditions due to their workloads. Even Dickie has arthritis, due to his demanding job prior to being the supervisor. This was the reality they had to live in, or they risked losing their livelihoods.
Then, the bell rang; it was lunch time. These were the only 30 minutes any of the factory worker liked during their work day. As the clock chimed two, the men went to the canteen for their lunch. The day's menu was a simple salad and some bread with cheese. The men had a merry half an hour, and then, it was back to work. Thus, they worked until 6 in the evening, when the bell rang again, and they knew it was time to go back home.
As soon as the bell rings, the men start leaving the factory, and Dickie climbs onto the van along with his friends. In about half an hour, they reach their town, and bid each other farewell, and set off to their homes. As soon as Dickie enters the home, he smells something nice ; Nancy's cooking dinner, then. He sees Mary doing her homework in her room, and goes and freshens up. After coming downstairs, he switches on the WiFi router near the TV, and takes out the new smartphone his son gave him.
Yes, Dickie has a son, too. He is James. James is a 25 year old young man. He was very good at school, went to college in England instead of New Carthagea on Dickie's insistence, and ended up getting a very good job in a tech firm in Olivieres. Things were all well and good until James revealed that he was in love with a Gallo-Phoenician girl. For Dickie, it was unimaginable. His son as supposed to marry into his community ! How dare he marry someone from the community who oppressed his. He opposed it, but James followed his heart, and married her. Dickie did not talk to him for almost two years because of that, but as he grows older, the wound has largely healed.
The sausages and mashed potatoes Dickie had for his breakfast
He video calls his son, and greets him with a "Good Evening". As soon as they hear James' voice, Nancy and Mary run into the hall and start talking to James. After almost 15 minutes talking about everything from food to politics, they say goodbye, and the phone call ends. Nancy then serves dinner: delicious sausages and mashed potatoes. As they eat, Mary says to them about what happened at school, and is excited that she got an A+ in the mathematics test. Dickie congratulates her with a tinge of sadness, knowing that one day she too, would be off to some New Carthaginian city, just like her brother. After that, they watched the news for some time, and then Mary went to bed.
After Nancy finished cleaning up the kitchen, both she and Dickie went to their room upstairs. They prayed for a while, talked for sometime about each others days, and then Nancy went to sleep. Slowly, Dickie, too, went into slumber, getting ready for another hectic day of work the next day.
