EVERY evening, at a bustling coffee shop at the corner of Geylang Lorong 27, an international competition of sorts takes place.
The participants: three beer promoters.
One is local, the other from Malaysia, and a third is the most recent addition and youngest participant.
She is Ms Lucy Li, a fresh-faced 31-year-old who arrived from China just four months ago.
Decked out in a tight yellow T-shirt and matching dangling earrings, the Hangzhou native charms the predominantly ah pek clientele with her sunny disposition, easily selling between 80 and 90 bottles of imported Thai beer every night.
But her competitors marketing other beer labels are not letting up either.
They work the ground with equal fervour, taking an occasional breather to size up, through mascara-lined eyes, how the others are doing.
But this isn't just a battle for beer sales.
It is a fight for jobs.
With an inflow of workers from China who are younger, cheaper to hire and willing to work longer hours, locals working in coffee shops here are feeling the heat of competition.
The nightly contest for clients in that corner Geylang coffee shop is a microcosm of the long-running rivalry playing out at coffee shops, food courts and tze char restaurants across the island.
It came to the fore most recently when former labour chief Lim Boon Heng recalled an incident at a Jurong West coffee shop that he eats at ahead of his Meet-the-People Sessions.
Mr Lim, who is Minister in the Prime Minister's Office, recounted how a local drinks seller complained that she felt threatened by the presence of a sweet, young co-worker from China.
Her main beef was that allowing such foreigners to work at coffee shops would undercut her wages and make it difficult for Singaporeans like her to make ends meet.
To find out how these often vilified China workers feel about being at the receiving end of criticism, Insight visited coffee shops in Geylang - an area replete with women from China who ply trades of all sorts, from the decent to the raunchy.
The two women from China who work at coffee shops and who were willing to speak to Insight appeared determined to play down the notion of competition between them and locals.
They insisted that these are misperceptions that have been blown out of proportion
Ms Li, for instance, says that she gets along with the other beer ladies and staff in the coffee shop 'like family'.
'They help me adjust to life here in Singapore, like telling me where I can buy affordable clothes,' says Ms Li, who sold motorcycles in Hangzhou.
She currently earns around $700 a month, and gets a 10-cent commission for every bottle of the $5.20 beer she sells.
A couple of streets away, Ms Ma Xiaoyen, 33, prepares ingredients and serves dishes at the No Signboard Seafood eatery.
She feels that the general impression among Singaporeans about women from China like her has changed over the years.
Says the cherubic Hubei native, who arrived here five years ago as a study mama with her then-nine-year-old son:
'In the past, I had colleagues who thought that us women from China were all xiao long nu (little dragon ladies) who were here to steal husbands.
'They tended to shy away from us. But now, they know that I am here to earn a decent living for the sake of my family's future, and treat me just like any local.'
While a reluctance to rock the boat with the locals is understandable, they occasionally do let their guard down.
'Definitely there will be times when we have disputes. Just because I'm from China, people look down on me and say things about me,' Ms Li lets on in Mandarin at one point in the interview.
'I try and ignore it: in one ear and out the other.'
Indeed, any visitor to the Geylang or other coffee shops can instantly discern an unspoken uneasiness.
They do not speak to or smile at one another. And it is not surprising given that the promoters do try and push their brand of beer to customers who have already bought from the competition.
When the Malaysian promoter, in her 40s who declined to be named, was asked about the competition, she got defensive:
'I have nothing to worry about. I am the best seller here. She makes only about $700 a month. I make over $2,000. I am a foreigner but I own a condo,' she announced, before walking away.
If this is a 'family', it does not seem to be a very happy one.
Cheaper, younger, better
WHETHER the local and Malaysian coffee shop workers like it or not, they are going to have to start getting used to competition from China.
In fact, with the regulations on hiring such workers having been relaxed recently, their numbers are going to shoot up.
In the past, service-sector companies were allowed to have up to 45 per cent of their workforce made up of foreigners with work permits. However, only 5 per cent of that quota could be made up of Chinese nationals.
But this year, companies can have foreigners make up half of their staff, and China workers can make up 10 per cent of the foreign workers.
More and more coffee shop owners are also turning to women from China because they are younger, more diligent and cheaper to employ.
Mr Hong Poh Hin, chairman of the Singapore Foochow Coffee Restaurant and Bar Merchants Association, said Singaporean and Malaysian hires earn between $1,100 and $1,300 a month for a nine-hour workday.
China workers, on the other hand, will do a 12-hour daily shift for around $900 a month.
'It's not just the money. A local worker may not come to work if she doesn't feel like it. With a foreigner, because of her work permit, you don't have to worry that she won't come tomorrow.'
So most bosses think nothing of the $240 to $450 monthly levy they have to pay for hiring such unskilled workers. Employ a skilled worker and the monthly levy can be as low as $150.
The China workers themselves appear to be aware that they are controversial figures here, and many declined to be interviewed when approached by Insight.
For Ms Li and Ms Ma, coming from China means they have to be on their best behaviour here.
'I cannot afford to lose this job,' Ms Li says starkly.
'That means abiding by company rules, such as no drinking while at work and no chatting with customers for more than a minute.'
They consider Singapore a good place to work.
As Ms Li puts it: 'I had long heard that Singapore is a clean, safe and civilised place, and have been dying to come and take a look for myself.'
So what has her impression been having worked here for four months now?
While she admits that she dreaded going to work in the initial days because of the poor image beer promoters have among Singaporeans, those fears have been overcome.
'Apart from the occasional customer who tries to get fresh with me, Singaporeans in general are a friendly and polite lot. They even joke and tell me only they can drink, while I shouldn't,' she says with a laugh.
And so at ease is Ms Ma with her present job that she hopes to persuade her husband, who owns a small restaurant back home, to pack his bags and join the family here.
'There's no shame in waiting on tables here. People here are far more open-minded and respectful of those who work in the food business, unlike those back home.'
The flip side
THERE remains a select few, however, who shy away from tapping into the seemingly unlimited supply of China workers flooding the market.
Mr Alvin Tan, operations manager of coffeeshop chain S-21, for one, steers clear of hiring them to staff any of the five coffee shops he manages.
Such workers can be a hassle to deal with, says Mr Tan, who prefers turning to locals and Malaysians to boost his workforce.
'If a Malaysian worker wants to quit, she can just give a month's notice before going home,' he says.
'But with workers from China, you have to provide them with lodging and hire them for at least two years, as stated in the contracts we sign with agents who bring them in,' he says.
Like it or not, there is also the sleaze factor that tends to be associated with hiring 'China girls', bosses say.
Yes they may be magnets who pull in more male customers, but trouble tends to follow.
Take, for example, an eatery near Ms Li's workplace, which attracts almost exclusively elderly male patrons.
Scantily clad China women celebrate every bottle of beer the men pop open with suggestive laughter and lusty high-fives, much to the chagrin of the other customers.
'People like those give us a bad name,' says Ms Li.
Mr Tan says the bad reputation that China girls have acquired is part of the reason he doesn't hire them: 'If you hire a young girl from China, you don't know what she is doing after work, or if she is doing some other kind of work. And if they get into trouble with the police, then it's very troublesome.'
Tales of hardship
ALL too aware of the negative connotations that Singaporeans associate with the presence of 'China girls' here, both Ms Li and Ms Ma say they want no part in perpetuating the stereotyping.
For the duo, that means strictly no moonlighting when the day is over so as not to attract gossip.
It also means scrimping and saving for their families. On her day off, Ms Ma makes it a point to spend time with her two children aged 14 and 11, who are studying in primary schools here.
'I'd rather save and spend the money taking them to the library and the cinema, so they can be motivated to study harder and get good results,' she says.
For Ms Li, the stakes are even higher.
Attracted by the prospect of a pay cheque that was far bigger than the 800 yuan (S$154) she was drawing back home, she paid nearly 45,000 yuan in fees to an agent to secure her current job.
Being able to save on lodging - she shares an apartment which is paid for by her employers with three other beer promoters from China - means she can send at least $200 a month to her husband and six-year-old daughter back home.
'I'd cry every two days, because I miss them so much,' she says, tears welling up in her eyes.
'But I tell myself, I'm here to make an honest living, and all I can do is to do my job well.'
'Definitely there will be times when we have disputes. Just because I'm from China, people will look down on me and say things about me. I try and ignore it: in one ear and out the other.'
Beer promoter Lucy Li, 31, who arrived from China just four months ago. The Hangzhou native charms the predominantly ah pek clientele at a Geylang coffee shop with her sunny disposition, easily selling between 80 and 90 bottles of imported Thai beer every night.
'In the past, I had colleagues who thought that us women from China were all xiao long nu (little dragon ladies) who were here to steal husbands...But now, they know I am here to earn a decent living...and treat me just like any local.'
Hubei native Ma XiaoYen (above), 33, who arrived here five years ago as a study mama with her then-nine-year-old son. She now prepares ingredients and serves dishes at a Geylang eatery.
'It's not just the money. A local worker may not come to work if she doesn't feel like it. With a foreigner, because of her work permit, you don't have to worry that she won't come tomorrow.'
Mr Hong Poh Hin, chairman of the Singapore Foochow Coffee Restaurant and Bar Merchants Association
