It's time for me to get in my truck. I sleep a little, but I turn on my radio, usually. So I'm trying to grow myself by listening to all the old things ...
And I try to be a little, you know, happy and burning, so I can enjoy my whole day, actually. This is a national anthem, though.
The beginning of the day. This is a Korean national anthem. 61-year-old Huh Wonjea who is a contract delivery driver is a contractor under the Korean Postal Service. You work an average of 14 hours a day, or 70 hours a week.
His career begins at the regional distribution center. There are thousands of parcels here waiting to be screened, not by conservation workers, but by the drivers themselves.
This is one of the biggest complaints of these service drivers. They spend hours at the beginning of their screening and then load the packaging into their truck and demand payment for those hours.
Our job is to bring things, that's our job. It is clearly stated in our agreement. But before that, we should spend about four hours every day before starting our work, without pay. Drivers are paid only when they deliver the item, about $ 1 to $ 1.50 per package.
The advent of online retailers due to COVID-19 means that drivers are increasingly using rescue packages, delays where they can start their delivery. Since the outbreak began, 21 delivery workers have died.
The unions say they are from overwork. This is incorrect. This is incorrect. We are the ones who are sacrificed to support the system. South Korea has long working hours in the developed world.
Hard work has transformed this country from a war-torn Japanese colony into the tenth largest economy in a few generations. The leaders promised the people that their sacrifices would pay off.
Their children will reap the benefits. But many Koreans say they still pay the bills. Death by overwork is common, there is a word for it - 'Omarosa. Delivery crews organize a meeting in downtown Seoul.
In January this year, real estate companies agreed to hire new employees arranging parcels, reducing operating hours, and stopping delivery after 9 p.m.
For the next six months, the unions say the promises have not been honored. The protest comes days after another driver blew himself up. On June 13th, a 48-year-old father of two, Gwang Soo, suffered a massive brain hemorrhage and fainted.
Lee Seong Wook has teamed up with Gwang Soo. He knows how easy it would have been for him.
Like Gwang Soo, Seong Wook is 40 years old with two children and works 90 hours a week. Her job responsibilities mean she rarely sees her children.
After sorting the packages every morning, it's late in the afternoon before they deliver for the first time. Just before 9 p.m., after 14 hours on the job, Seong Wook receives an automated message from the company.
Seong Wook continues to work. It will take at least another hour to complete. For the new food he brings after 9pm, he will pay the fines. That's a fine of about $ 60 for the item, paid under $ 1 to deliver. Seong Wook ended up wrapping us up at 11 p.m.
On a 16-hour day, she earns about $ 180. It is before she is taxed, her fuel or telephone bills, or other late delivery charges.
27-year-old Jang Deok-Joon returned home from work at 6:00 a.m. on October 12, 2020. He went to the bathroom to take a shower. When he did not show up an hour later, his father opened the door.
Deok-Joon worked for e-commerce giant Coupang, often described as the Amazon of Korea. She has worked at one of their fulfillment centers, preparing for delivery. Coupang manages its operations and uses artificial intelligence and real-time performance monitoring to make its distribution much faster in the business. Deok-Joon died of a heart attack.
Coupang insisted it had nothing to do with work, but his parents refused to accept the rejection. They traveled to fulfillment centers around the country in a delivery truck with the slogan
"UC Coupang Killed My Son."
Finally, after months of campaigning, they received a formal decision - their son's death was caused by overwork. MAN: Our sincere condolences go to his family.
We have our deepest sympathy. Um, you know, today Coupang is the third-largest employer in Korea and, um, with about 50,000 people.
And if you think about 50,000 people in a year, you will have some personal health issues from within ... that of people.
So, just explain, do you believe this was a human health incident or was this a work-related death, death due to overwork in Coupang?
The government has decided that this should be an industrial event and we welcome that. The Korean clothing industry is in the middle of an 80-year-old fatal crash.
And, you know, Coupang, from the beginning, has put the health and safety of its employees first. We have nurses working with our medical director who's trying to keep refining ... And I keep making this site? Hm?
Am I still making this site, or should I make this side? No, no. That's the first one.
I came back with Huh Wonjae, helping him sort the parcels at the Incheon distribution center. Carrington, you know I'm not paid for this, right?
Yes, that seems crazy to me. No, I'm just saying I'm ... so I can't afford it. O ... ALL LAUGHS Wonjae never planned to be a freight forwarder. He holds a master’s degree in English and also conducted his language schools in Canada and Japan.
She returned to Korea to be reunited with her elderly mother, who suffered from bipolar disorder. Despite having a degree and a lot of experience, she struggled to find a job.
I was still thinking at the time that I could get positions .... in other universities because I used to teach at universities. But, uh ... I have to feed again and I have to feed my mother.
She is disabled because of her illness. So I visit my mom as often as I can, whenever I can. Mother. His memory fades. He was kind.
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