"Let's go forward. This is what places like this are like."
Nan Yi walked up to Sayuri Hagiwara, took her hand and continued to go deeper into Dharavi.
As they walked further in, there were more people on the road, but no one surrounded Nan Yi and his group of seemingly strange people. Most people just took a glance and continued on their way. The children would even take a few more glances at them without hesitation.
"Boss, Dharavi is already a very famous tourist route. Western tourists who come to Mumbai will come here to walk around and take a look."
As if knowing Nan Yi's doubts, Faraqui promptly explained to Nan Yi the abnormal phenomenon in front of him.
"Since it's a tourist route, there should be hotels here for tourists to stay, right?" Nan Yi asked subconsciously as he looked at the house with colorful walls not far away.
“There are not only hotels here, but also people offering homestays.”
"The house in front looks nice. Do you know what kind of building it is?" Nan Yi asked again, pointing at the colorful house.
Faraqui followed Nan Yi's pointing, took a look and said, "A temple built by untouchables."
“Can untouchables also build temples?”
As far as Nan Yi knows, in rural India, untouchables are not allowed to approach temples, let alone build their own temples.
"Boss, the caste system has been abolished long ago, and this is Mumbai, an international metropolis. The untouchables need to rely on temples to maintain their identity and keep their sense of existence." There was both sarcasm and self-mockery in Falque's words.
"If we have a temple, we are not considered untouchables?"
"In a sense, yes."
"Is it about religion?"
"Yes." Falakwi responded, and then said: "There are many temples of different sizes in Dharavi. People of the same caste and from the same place will build a temple. Once they arrive here, they will think of ways to build one, so that the gods have a place to live first, and then they will consider themselves."
“Will God bless them?”
Faraqui looked around first, then approached Nan Yi and said in a low voice: "Boss, I don't believe in God at all, but I must believe in God. This is not only a matter of faith, but also a matter of survival. It is difficult to survive in India without believing in God."
“God is a medium for integration into society?”
"It should be more accurate to say that it is a tool for social coordination. India has thousands of languages, and more than 33 languages ​​are spoken by more than one million people. This means that India must choose a way to coordinate the harmony between different cultures, so a common belief has become the golden rule."
Nan Yi looked at Farrakhai in surprise. He really didn't expect that Farrakhai had the potential to be a sociologist.
“The caste system was proposed by Hinduism, right?”
"Yes, Boss, it is meaningless to abolish the caste system legally. As long as Hinduism exists, the caste system will always be engraved in the hearts of Indians."
“Is it possible for Hinduism to disappear?”
Faraqui nodded heavily and said, "Impossible, absolutely impossible. All those who have a say in India have benefited from Hinduism. Who would destroy something that is beneficial to them?"
"Yes, Sakyamuni."
"Hmph, a heretic of the Kshatriyas." Faraqui said with disdain.
"Faraqui, you are a Vaishya."
Faraqui said complacently: "Boss, I am pursuing a Brahmin woman and I am almost catching up with her."
"Congratulations."
While chatting, they kept walking. Passing by a public toilet, Nan Yi glanced at the thick patina on the wall, and pulled Hagiwara Sayuri to quicken the pace.
Passing by a faucet, Nan Yi went forward and turned it on. No water flowed out of the faucet, but there was a "ho ho ho" sound, which meant that there was water in the pipe and water could be sucked out by sucking.
Faraqui explained that this was municipal water, which was supplied during limited hours each day.
Municipal water is free, but I don’t know whether Mumbai’s government will pay for it or whether the cost will be directly shared by the households that pay the water bills.
Nan Yi asked Falque, but he couldn't explain it either.
With doubts, the group continued forward and passed through a section of houses called "Chawl" according to Faraqui. There were two long rows of houses with an alley in the middle. The alley was two or three stories high and had a kitchen and a public bathroom.
"Boss, the tenants in Chawl not only have to pay rent to the landlord, but also have to pay land rental fees. After living there for two or three generations, they will sell their tenant rights when they want to move out, which is equivalent to selling the house. The new people who move in need to pay a lot of fees."
“Who should pay the land lease fee?”
"The owners of the land are not descendants of factory owners or fishermen, but probably descendants of the earliest tenants. As they lived there for a while, they couldn't clearly identify the ownership of the land."
“Weren’t the owners of these houses landlords?”
“Not entirely. Chawls were built during the industrial period after India’s independence by the government to accommodate the workers who flocked into the city. The funding sources were very complicated, with both government grants and private funds. When Chawls were first built, many were built without the consent of the landlords.
The ownership of land is not clear at all, and the ownership of houses is also unclear. The landlords and landowners may not be the real landlords and landowners, but may just be the more stubborn old tenants. "
"Tough? Can I understand it as occupying?" Nan Yi asked.
"Boss can totally understand this."
"Um."
During the rest of the journey, Nan Yi seldom asked Farakwi questions. He felt that Farakwi only had a vague understanding of Dharavi and only knew the surface, but was not very clear about the deeper inner thoughts.
Nan Yi needs someone who truly understands the situation to give him some popular science advice, to see the essence through the phenomenon, and to study the Dharavi phenomenon thoroughly from point to surface. This will basically allow him to have a basic understanding of India.
For Nan Yi, this half-understanding was enough for him to decide Nan's development strategy in India, and the other half would be left to the executor to solve.
Nan Yi temporarily switched the inspection to tourism, shook off Faraqua and walked forward hand in hand with Sayuri Hagiwara.
After walking out of the alley, Nan Yi and his companions came to a wider street with more pedestrians. From time to time, they would pass by pedestrians.
After walking for a while, Nan Yi smelled the scent of leather. He looked through the window into the house next to him and saw a leather worker with his chest and abdomen exposed cutting leather with a special knife. There were also semi-finished leather bags in the wooden frame next to him. This should be a leather processing factory.
Walking forward and changing a window, it is still a leather processing factory. After looking at three or four windows, Nan Yi realized that this is a leather processing industrial cluster, which also confirms the statement that Dharavi is divided according to industry.
Walking to a window, Nan Yi looked inside and happened to meet the eyes of the workers inside who were looking outside. Nan Yi smiled back and the other party smiled back. Nan Yi took advantage of the situation and pointed to a piece of leather scrap on the workbench and asked, "May I?"
The other party gave Nan Yi another friendly smile, picked up the scraps and handed them to Nan Yi.
Nan Yi said thank you, took the leather and looked at it in his hand.
"Nagao-kun, is it real leather?" Sayuri Hagiwara came over to take a look and asked.
"It's real cowhide, probably from a buffalo."
Nan Yi only knows the skin of cowhide, but he has his own way of identifying it. He just needs to compare the leather with his own. If they are similar, then it is real; if they are not, then it is fake.
Just last year, Shennong Nanliang inexplicably became the world's second largest leather supplier and the largest supplier of luxury leather.
Before last year, Shennong Nanliang's cowhides, sheepskins and pigskins would be sold directly to IBP, NBP, EXCEL, SOUTHWEST and other companies that are more professional in leather processing. However, last year's global cattle output increased sharply, and they dared to take the opportunity to lower the price for leather.
Nan Yi would not indulge them. With a wave of his hand, Shennong Nanshi established a subsidiary, Blow Cowhide, and directly entered the leather processing field. Not only did it not sell any of its own primary leathers, it also joined the ranks of snatching other suppliers.
"Blow Cowhide" is a typical Chinese English, just like "Give you some color see see", which means "blow cowhide" in Chinese.
This is Nan Yi's own bad taste. Blow Cowhide will only show the abbreviation BCH to the outside world, and the full name will not be known to the outside world. This is a joke that is controlled and circulated within the Nan family.
Nan Yi put the scraps back on the workbench and gave the leather worker another smile.
"The tanning process for the leather is pretty good, but the quality of the cowhide is a little poor. Lily-chan, let me tell you, I am the world's top leather appraiser. I can tell whether a piece of leather is good or not just by touching it."
"Really?" Hagiwara Sayuri asked suspiciously.
"Of course it's true." Nan Yi showed off what he saw in the work report and boasted to Sayuri Hagiwara, "This best cowhide is from China. The cows there are raised in centralized pens and commercially, with advanced slaughtering methods, and there are relatively complete grading standards and trade regulations. Most of the cowhide products of luxury brands will purchase leather from China.
The United States is also the largest producer of cowhide, supplying more than 20% of the world's tanned cowhide. The second largest producer is South America, which also has a large number of cows.
However, the climate there is not good, it is hot and humid, and the grazing environment is relatively harsh. Cows are often scratched by thorny flowers, plants and trees, and are bitten by horseflies and lice. The cowhide produced there is of lower quality and the price is lower. Only the cowhide from Argentina is of acceptable quality.
Europe, Australia and Africa are also important cowhide production areas. I can tell the quality of this batch of material by just touching it, and I can tell where it is produced by just smelling it."
As he said that, Nan Yi touched Sayuri Hagiwara's face with a sense of mischief, then put his hand under his nose and sniffed, "Yo, this flower girl is from Japan, let me see which city she was raised in..."
"Nagao-kun!"
Sayuri Hagiwara raised her little pink fist in anger and hit Nan Yi on the chest.
"Haha, stop joking. To be honest, I don't know how to tell the difference between real and fake cowhide. But there are stray cows everywhere in India, so it's easy to get cowhide. The cost is lower than artificial leather. It's really more economical to use real leather than fake. The smell here is too strong. Let's go faster."
"Um."
The group quickened their pace and quickly passed the leather industry cluster. Suddenly, the view in front of them opened up and a large open area appeared in their sight.
There are shops lining the sides, selling food and snacks, barber shops, pharmacies, and hotels. In the middle are stalls. A bicycle is a stall, a tricycle is also a stall, and there are also some decent snack carts.
Nan Yi saw a thief lying on a tricycle selling fruits with his front legs raised, sniffing around in the messy pile of coconuts. After a while, when he didn't find any fruit to eat, the thief put his front legs down in disappointment, bleated twice, and went to another stall cursing.
The thief goat has a sturdy and graceful figure. Not to mention, apart from being a little dirty, he is quite handsome.
Sayuri Hagiwara took out her camera and took a few photos of the handsome young man, then pulled Nan Yi towards the stall in the middle.
First they came to the tricycle selling coconuts. Sayuri Hagiwara might have thought about buying a coconut before, but now after seeing how the coconuts looked, she no longer had any idea. They were full of holes and none of them looked round.
As for food, no matter whether it tastes good or not, at least in terms of presentation, Japan has always done a good job.
After leaving the coconut stall disappointed, Sayuri Hagiwara took Nan Yi to a stall selling bananas. The bananas looked good, yellow with a hint of green.
Sayuri Hagiwara said to Nan Yi eagerly: "Nagao-kun, let's buy some bananas."
“You can buy it, but you can’t eat it.”
"Why?"
“No need to ask why, just look at a few more stalls and you’ll understand.”
After Nan Yi finished speaking, he pulled the confused Hagiwara Sayuri directly to the next stall.
The next one is also a fruit stall, still selling bananas, but in a variety of varieties, including yellow, green, red, and purple.
After taking a look, Nan Yi pulled Hagiwara Sayuri away again. These bananas were quite tempting. Nan Yi himself was eager to try them. He was really afraid that Hagiwara Sayuri would be unable to pull herself away after seeing them.
Deliberately missing the fruit stalls that did not do secondary processing, Nan Yi found a target and took Hagiwara Sayuri to a more special stall.
This stall sells a rough substance that looks like fruit and is shit-yellow in color.
As you approach the stall, you can see the cut surfaces of the "suspected fruits". They are white and very similar to radishes.
Nan Yi was very surprised. He had seen several similar foods, some of which were similar in shape and some of which looked very similar in flesh, but he had never seen one with a shit-yellow appearance.
Nan Yi turned around and called Faraqui closer and asked, "Do you know what kind of fruit this is?"
"Boss, this is Ramkand, which means vegetable root. It's sold everywhere in Mumbai. I don't really know what it is." Faraqui leaned close to Nan Yi's ear and whispered, "These stall owners are keeping this thing a secret and refuse to tell customers what it is. The original skin of Ramkand should not be this color. The yellow color on the skin is deliberately painted."
"Oh, how much is this?"
"I sell them in slices, 50 paisa per slice."
"Buy a few slices, no masala, no dip in any sauce." Nan Yi said.
"Okay, Boss."
Faraqui responded and said something to the stall owner, who immediately dipped his right hand into a water vessel nearby, brought up some water, and smeared it on Ramkand's cut;
Then he took out a knife that looked very similar to a stainless steel ruler, wiped the blade with a thick rag, placed the shiny knife on Ramkand, and began to cut thin slices while rotating.
It is really thin, and the fan-shaped Ramkand is about the same thickness as the dumpling skin.
Ramchand's skin was fair and translucent, and the stainless steel knife was shining silver, but the stall owner's hands were pitch black, with old dirt still lingering in the cracks between his fingernails. He held the slices of Ramchand in his palm and stacked them up one by one.
"Hold!"
Nan Yi's courage, which was gathered up out of curiosity, suddenly lost all of a sudden. Not to mention someone else's dirty hands, even if it was his own, under normal circumstances, he would not dare to use such dirty hands to pinch food and stuff it into his mouth.
Although he had participated in "anti-feces training" with the Peace Dove team members and had tried eating in a feces pit, his state of mind at that time was completely different from now.
When training, he put himself into a desperate situation. In order to stay alive, he would naturally overcome things that seemed impossible to face under normal circumstances.
But now, he can completely suppress his curiosity.
"Tiger cub, the organization has given you a difficult task. Come and have a taste of the saltiness."
When Ramkand fell into Faraqui's hands, wrapped in half a newspaper, Nan Yi called the tiger cub over and patted his shoulder earnestly.
The tiger cub joked, "Boss, if I lie down, will it be considered a work injury?"
"You're going to die, I'll consider you dead." Nan Yi took the newspaper from Faraqua and stuffed it into the tiger cub's hand in a bad mood, "Hurry up, take a bite and see what this thing is."
The tiger cub was not ambiguous after playing around. He took a piece of newspaper and took a bite. After chewing it, he said, "Boss, it's nothing magical. I had my suspicion just now, but now I am absolutely sure that this is the core of the palm tree. When I was a kid, I would dig it up when I had no food to eat. Don't eat too much. Eating too much will cause diarrhea."
As he spoke, the tiger cub threw the other half of the slice into his mouth.
Nan Yi exclaimed "Fuck" again. No wonder the stall owner kept it a secret. How could he dare to publicize it? There are palm trees everywhere in India. You can just dig them anywhere.
“Faraqui, ask the stall owner whether they grow the Ramchand themselves or if a wholesaler supplies them.”
Nan Yi suddenly remembered that Faraqui had just said that many people were selling this thing, and he wanted to confirm how they were able to keep the secret together.
Upon hearing this, Faraqui started communicating with the stall owner. The stall owner refused to speak at first, but Faraqui asked again and again and handed over a five-rupee note. Only then did the stall owner say something.
"BOSS, the stall owner said that he has a supplier who supplies Ramkand, but in fact he himself doesn't know what Ramkand is." After asking the stall owner, Faraqui turned to Nan Yi and said.
"Okay, got it."
Since there are suppliers responsible for supplying goods, it means there is an organization, a leader, and someone responsible for connecting the dots. It is easier to keep secrets. After all, keeping secrets is good for everyone. No one would be stupid enough to tell others their secret to getting rich unless someone pays a high price.
But people who can afford to spend a lot of money would not be interested in such a small business.
His curiosity satisfied, Nan Yi did not linger any longer. After sharing the secret with Sayuri Hagiwara, the group continued to stroll forward.
There were still stalls as he walked forward, but the goods were placed directly on the ground. There were all kinds of vegetables, meat and fish for sale. Nan Yi walked to a vegetable stall, picked up a round Indian eggplant, turned it around to examine it, and then brought it close to his nose to smell it.
There are two insect holes on the eggplant, one old and one new. This poor eggplant may have never tasted the taste of pesticides in its life.
After asking Faraqui to buy the eggplant, Nan Yi took Hagiwara Sayuri to other vegetable stalls. They would stay in front of each stall for a while, picking up a vegetable from time to time to take a look.
After visiting the vegetable stall, he went to look at the fish stall. The first stall was selling catfish. There were five fish in total placed directly on the ground. They were all small fish weighing less than 20 kilograms. The mucus on the fish was too thick, which made Nan Yi doubt the origin of the catfish.
In some villages in the south, dry toilets are not popular. Instead, water toilets are used. That is, toilets are built on the edge of a pond, and excrement falls directly into the pond from a high place.
This kind of pond is often not used for raising fish, washing clothes, etc., but for storing fertilizer water.
Whenever someone goes to the toilet, there will be a splashing sound in the water under the toilet. The Egyptian mullets are like centers actively grabbing rebounds, actively seizing favorable terrain under the basket, and they are waiting for a hot bite.
It is recommended not to use this kind of water toilet if you are constipated. The Egyptian mullets waited for half a day but didn't see their delicious food fall into the water. You can imagine how angry they will be.
There is a pond in the yard of Wenchangwei Nanzhai. Nan Yi has been raising a few catfish there, but in fact he does not only raise these few catfish. He also secretly raises dozens of catfish in a pit of 2×3 meters and less than 1.5 meters deep. The scientific name of that pit is a septic tank.
There was once a single woman who was so scared that she couldn't sleep for whole nights. She said that every night, strange noises would come from the walls of her house. Later, after 45 years of continuous follow-up investigation, the "Science Also Relies on Editing" program team discovered the truth one dead of night.
It turned out that the single woman was a relative of one of the screenwriters of the program. One day, she came up with a good idea for the program team to put a catfish in the sewer to pretend it was haunted.
Catfish have strong vitality and can survive in any place with a little water. They will eat meat if there is meat, and eat feces if there is no meat. Not only catfish, but all fish will secrete mucus, but catfish secrete more.
For catfish, mucus has many uses, the most noteworthy of which is to reduce friction during movement. If the resistance in the water is not great, less mucus can be secreted, and if the resistance in mud pits and sewers is great, more mucus will be secreted.
Without touching the catfish in front of him, Nan Yi could clearly see that there was a lot of mucus on its body surface. "Even if the water in India contains all the elements in the periodic table, it shouldn't secrete so much mucus, right?"
Nan Yi looked at the stall owner's face, then at the catfish, and walked silently to another fish stall.
This stall sells red carp and red crucian carp, all of which are live fish and kept in a basin of water. They are very beautiful.
There was a customer waiting in front of the stall, and the stall owner was killing a fish there. It was very strange that the fish scales were not scraped off with a knife, but were directly peeled off from the fish together with the fish skin. After the fish skin was peeled off, the stall owner said something to the customer, and after getting the customer's reply, he picked up the knife and cut off all the fish fins, not even leaving the fish tail.
Then chop, chop, chop off the fish head and tail, cut the fish body that has not been butchered directly from the back, scrape the knife on the belly of the fish a few times, then cut the fish into sections, and then cut the sections into pieces the size of braised pork.
"What a pity that such a beautiful koi is eaten." After seeing the killed fish being wrapped in a newspaper, Sayuri Hagiwara withdrew her gaze and said to Nan Yi.
"This is not koi, this is red carp. Koi should not taste as good as this."
“Have you ever eaten koi?”
"No, I'm just guessing. If it can be kept in a water tank, it must not be very delicious." Nan Yi replied, and immediately changed the subject, "Let's go, there is a snack stand in front, let's go buy something to eat."
"No, I just saw that the stall is very dirty." Sayuri Hagiwara shook her head and said.
"hehe."
They didn't want to eat it, but they wanted to see it. Then Nan Yi and the others saw all kinds of baked cakes and pancakes. Some were baked by turning the pan over and sticking them to the bottom of the pan; some were directly thrown into the fire pit and baked; some were more modern and used gas, but they didn't know if baking in this way would cause carbon monoxide poisoning.
Some methods look cleaner, where the pancakes are baked directly on the cow dung cake fire. Normally speaking, dry cow dung is actually quite clean, if the cow that produces the dung is not a stray cow or grew up in a garbage dump.
In addition to Roti, I also saw freshly brewed fruit juice in an aquarium. Papaya, banana, and pandan seeds were soaked in water from somewhere unknown, and then large chunks of ice were added. With a clean and hygienic right hand, a stir was made, and a tank of juice was ready.
When a customer comes, the water is scooped out from the cup soaked in the aquarium and poured into a glass. The customer then drinks directly from the glass.
It’s no wonder that the stall owner pays great attention to hygiene. The water cups used by customers will be rinsed in a bucket nearby before being given to the next customer.
If the customer wants to take the food away, that's easy. There is a snakeskin bag next to the stall, which is filled with mineral water bottles. The customer can just fill one with juice and let the customer take it away. The stall owner does not discriminate against take-away customers. Before filling the bottles with juice, the mineral water bottles will be rinsed in a bucket.
Whenever he sees customers ordering take-out, Nan Yi, who is standing by, gets excited. Especially when he sees a customer who doesn't want any other brand of mineral water and specifically asks for the Galaxy Goddess brand, he feels a sense of pride.
…
On the first day, I visited the Dharavi slums and street food stalls in the north of the city. On the second day, I still visited the north of the city, but my target became various restaurants. On the third day, I still visited the north of the city, but my target became various small shops selling groceries.
Nan Yi spent a week in the north of the city, gaining a preliminary but relatively systematic understanding of the consumption of ordinary people in Mumbai, especially food, which Nan Yi observed most carefully.
The staple food of Indians is rice and various kinds of bread. They like to drink fruit juice and eat fruits. In addition, they cannot live without sugar. Sugarcane juice that is so sweet that it is sickening is their favorite. They also consume a lot of yellow sugar cubes made directly from sugarcane juice.
If the staple food is too monotonous, you can add a substitute.
Nan Yi has already checked that there is only one kind of instant noodles sold in Mumbai, and it is an imported product, Maggi instant noodles produced by Queso Company. The price is very expensive. In the eyes of Indians, instant noodles are still a very luxurious food, which is even more so than in China.
The instant noodle market in India is still an untapped virgin land with huge potential.
In addition, because of Indians' love for fruits and pursuit of sugar, Nan Yi also thought of making canned fruits, but this idea came quickly and disappeared even faster.
Nan Yi once read an internal battle case analysis of the self-defense counterattack against India. The logistics section mentioned that the Indian army’s food rations included various canned foods, including various canned fruits. This shows that Indians are not ignorant of canned foods.
However, Nan Yi did not see any canned fruits for sale in supermarkets or various small shops.
So, Nan Yi went to look at the prices of various fruits, checked the distribution of various fruits in India, calculated the cost of canned fruits, and then gave up the idea.
The distribution of fruits in India is very even, and several mainstream fruits are found almost all over the country. This results in negligible transportation costs for fruits, low selling prices, and seasonal fruits are available almost all year round. Who would be so stupid as to eat ridiculously expensive canned fruits instead of fresh ones?
Unless the price of Indian fruits goes up, you should never touch canned fruits. Anyone who touches them will end up losing everything.
After eight days here, Nan Yi has only found instant noodles as a project that can be investigated in depth, which makes him a little dissatisfied with his efficiency.
Sitting by the Peacock Lake, Nan Yi thought about what to do in the next few days, then picked up the statistical report that Faraqui had just brought back from the table and started reading it.
After reading the population data of India in 1987, Nan Yi felt that the data was very beautiful.
In 1987, India had a population of 870 million, of which 425 million were males. The median age of the population was between 32 and 36 years old, and the population aged 8 to 14 accounted for 19% of the total population.
Just by extrapolating from the data, India will usher in its first demographic dividend window in the near future, and the ratio of young labor force will reach a very high point. It seems that India is about to reap the demographic dividend and its economy will take off.
It's a pity that India has always been inclined towards elitist education, and there has been no gap in this family or that family, and there are still some great people in the science and technology world; but the investment in basic education is very limited, whether it is financial allocations, teaching staff, or mobilizing the enthusiasm of the lower-class people to study.
This has resulted in a very high illiteracy rate in India. Nan Yi has seen statistical data from several non-governmental organizations in India. The discrepancies are a bit large, but each figure is over 50%, which basically means that the illiteracy rate in India is at least half.
The standard for determining whether someone is illiterate in India is very simple. As long as one can write his or her own name, he or she is not illiterate and can regard himself or herself as a cultured person when meeting outsiders.
If the illiteracy rate is too high, a large number of workers will be unable to meet the requirements of industrialized work, especially in labor-intensive industries and low-end manufacturing industries that benefit particularly from the demographic dividend. Although the cultural requirements for these two industries are not high, they are still technical jobs after all, and many things can only be trained and employed more easily if one is literate.
In fact, it is not impossible to train illiterate people into assembly line workers. They can be forced to memorize words, but the cost of training is relatively high and no business owner is willing to spend this cost.
They came here for the cheap labor, but the training costs are so high, are you kidding?
It can be seen from this that India will have a large number of cheap labor, but it will not have a large number of cheap industrial workers, which means that the secondary industry cannot develop.
Nan Yi didn’t want to know whether this was good news for India. He only knew that this was good news for the Nan family’s layout in India.
Labor is cheap and there is little room for changing track, which means that labor costs can be infinitely compressed and employee work efficiency can be infinitely stimulated.
It is not uncommon for a motorcycle to carry dozens of people, but it is a miracle for one person to do the work of dozens of people and only get half of their salary.
Nan can completely rely on India to achieve walking on two legs, exploring mechanization and intelligence on the one hand, and developing the potential of the human body on the other, giving wings to dreams for the Indian brothers and making everyone in the Indian brothers successful.
Nan Yi put the report on the table, picked up a piece of chicken from the bowl on the table, tore it into two pieces and threw it into the Peacock Lake. The three kingfish swimming by the lake pounced on the chicken as soon as they saw it.
There was a lot of noise as they scrambled for it.
The aroma of chicken spread, and the fish in the distance smelled it and immediately ran over to join the scramble.
"Indian enterprises are called labor groups. No matter what year, month, time or place, labor is always the most glorious. Labor groups - carry forward the spirit of candles, burn yourself and illuminate others!"
Nan Yi showed a sly smile and said to himself: "I should be considered a cultured person. Cultured people must have their own nicknames . From now on, my surname is Nan and my given name is Yi. My courtesy name... I'll save my courtesy name for later. Let's first come up with a nickname. What should I call myself... Or I can just call myself a layman."