Posted on November 24, 2008
The State of S. Paulo
For those looking for a dekassegui job in Japan, the response from employment agencies in Liberdade is the same: “The situation is ugly there, Brazilians are not going, just coming back.” Is there an option? “How about sanding ships? You earn 1,100 yen ($ 11) per hour. ”On balance, there would be about $ 1,300 a month. “But… the sander weighs over 3 pounds and has to scrape the whole hull. It works five days, two days off. ”Something lighter? “It has bento-ya (food preparation factories) for 1,000 yen. But this is for women or couples. ”What about the car or consumer electronics industries? “They are firing.”
On the other side of the planet, the recession has been confirmed. Former soccer player and today worker Jeferson Minohara, 30, already knew. He is an orphan of Toyota. Licensed by an accident at an automaker’s outsourced factory, Minohara received a few weeks ago the news that his contract would not be renewed. “With the crisis, any reason is enough to send them away.” The Brazilian has already sought relocation, but labor contractors suggested seeking in March or April. Not even the woman, Michelle Okada, can help. She is also unemployed and to care for her son Jeferson, 3, and Julia, 5 months, teaches Japanese to dekasseguis. But of the seven students he ever had, only one remains.
One of the engines of the economy and employers of dekassegui, Japanese automakers suffer substantial losses from the global crisis. A successful exporter of luxury automobiles to the United States, Toyota lost competitiveness with the appreciated yen against the dollar. He had to lay off 10 % of the workforce. Another six of the eight car factories are dehydrating. And the domestic market does not collaborate. Vehicle sales to the Japanese in October fell 13.1 compared to 2007 – the lowest rate in the last 40 years.
Scalded by a decade of crisis in the 1990s, the Japanese save more than the government would like at the time of the squeeze. It is cultural, atavistic since the country was devastated from World War II. Unable to count on domestic consumption, Japan survived the last prolonged recession by exporting more cars and consumer electronics to the United States and Europe. To do this, the Japanese learned to increase productivity and reduce costs. It is left to the dekassegui.
Over the past decade, with salaries around $ 4,000, Brazilians have been committed to keeping the machines running. Overtime was never missed. The migration from Brazil to Japan occurred in jumps. In 1990, there were 56,000; in 1998, 222 thousand; and last year, 317 thousand. What you see now is a parade of old Dekassegui companies – Sony, Canon, NEC, Panasonic, Sanyo, Honda, Nissan, and Yamaha – registering a drop in exports. The question is no longer whether Japan is in recession, but how long it will stay with it. The Japanese confidence index is now at its lowest peak ever.
The cuts of foreign workers is one of the resources to contain the crises. In the 1990s, wages paid to Brazilians had already suffered brutal falls, of up to 40. This time, overtime has been canceled, barely speaking of collective vacations, cut lists are inevitable. Chinese, Filipinos, and Indonesians are hired as trainees, costing less than Brazilians, and are more likely to stay. Already the Japanese, called shain, only recently became disconnected, but always as the last in line.
“It will not be the end of dekassegui work, but there will certainly be a new dispersion, especially for less profitable vacancies,” warns social scientist Naoto Higuchi of Tokushima University. Among the new possible jobs, Higuchi identifies the same bento-ya offered by Brazilian recruitment agencies.
In Toyota City, 4,000 Brazilians live in the 60 buildings of the Homi Danchi residential complex. In the small green-and-yellow enclave, Welton Noboru Yoshioka is a former workman who has become a member of a health club. To keep the business going, it would need 400 students. Now it’s 240. “Let’s just take some time in the red because we have employees who depend on us.” Other businesses aimed at the Brazilian public, such as supermarkets, restaurants and schools, face similar difficulties.
“The situation is serious,” summarizes Catholic priest Evaristo Higa, who has lived in Japan for 15 years. In recent weeks, he has noticed the presence of “three or four” Brazilians in the Hamamatsu soup line. One family tried in vain for shelter in the church. He has already seen dekasseguis turn homeless, as they had in the 1990s crisis.
