The driver turned a corner in a warehouse at the corners of the warehouse, there is a graffiti phone number outside the warehouse, and then stopped in front of a small office building, next to a shiny black BMW car. Although we are on the way to see a variety of waste plastic recycling industry scene, but the village is very quiet, almost as quiet as the wild. Distant roar of the machine and the birds sound almost.
Out of the car, a man greeted me, I call him Mr. Hu., aged 50 years old, is the boss of this waste plastic processing factory that we visited. He wore a big Rolex watch and a gray overcoat. I noticed that the workers were wearing shorts. Most were naked, and only a few were wearing sweatshirts. Mr. Hu is handsome, red in the face; workers are skinny, prominent eyes.
Opposite the dusty streets, the workers started a small plastic shredder to cut the waste plastic basket that Mr. Hu imported from Thailand into pieces for recycling.
Mr. Hu told us that he has been engaged in waste EPS recycling industry has been more than 20 years, but this factory was established seven years ago. He owns 90% of the shares, other "investors" have 10%. He led us into an open-air yard where five workers (three of them naked teenagers) were sorting a pile of waste plastics imported from the United States. It was difficult to identify what the waste plastics were, And part of it has become fragmented. I asked Mr. Hu what the waste plastic was shredding. He shrugged: "It could be a plastic box, or some part of a car.
I saw the workers pouring the plastic pieces into the corrosive metal cistern and then using a rotating metal filter to clean the blended plastics and then dry them on a tarpaulin. When the workers finish the work, they collect the excess garbage and cleaning agents, either sell them to others or throw them in the rubbish pits on the edge of the village.
Perhaps not noticed, perhaps we come is not the time, anyway, there is no safety equipment, there is no protective masks, helmets and steel boots; in fact, including Mr. Hu, most people are wearing sandals.
I looked at Josh, he looked back at me: "This is really too bad.
"Today we have only one extruder," Mr. Hu told us, "here."
We walked into a relatively bright room, about 12 meters long, 6 meters wide. The room had a metallic and chemical odor. The middle of a very long styrofoam recycling machine, the length of about half the length of the room. A worker at one end of the machine to a box of plastic debris poured into a desktop-sized funnel-like objects, the plastic inside is slowly melting. I could see the hot air and the smoke from the plastic melted to the front of the worker. At the same time, the plastic solution flowed into the 3-meter-long tube, and the machine spit out the gray bars of the 15 pencil bars.
This machine works in much the same way as noodles. The only difference is that plastic "noodles" will be cut into 6 mm size pellets and then bagged to the manufacturer.
