The work can lead to repetitive stress injuries and sometimes can be dangerous, especially when chemicals and high heat furnaces are used to treat parts. The loud, clanking sounds of machines are also stress-inducing, say other striking workers at Honda Lock, who have called for noise reduction measures as part of their demands.

Conditions in Chinese factories vary greatly, with small and medium sized plants often far worse than those run by larger multinational corporations held to higher standards of corporate social responsibility.

At Foxconn, one of China's largest manufacturers with hundreds of thousands of workers in a network of industrial complexes sprawling across the nation, a recent spate of headline-grabbing suicides threw a harsh spotlight on the bleak, low-paid existence faced by many Chinese factory workers.

Labour rights groups detail military-like management practices intended to maximise productivity, but which have exacerbated emotional pressures on some workers. While the typical workday is eight hours, according to stipulations in China's labour contract law, many workers often try to bolster meagre base salaries by putting in up to four hours of overtime a day.

Workers are barred from talking to one another while on the production line and stand for long hours carrying out the same tasks. Toilet breaks are also restricted to once every two hours, Foxconn workers who were interviewed said.

"They are here to make money, of course they have to work hard," said Zhu Fuquan, a department manager at Foxconn's production facility in Longhua. "If they want a good life here, they will have to work hard for it. It's natural."

Several days before speaking to Reuters, Wei had joined hundreds of co-workers in laying down their

tools at the factory early one morning, only to find the tree-lined road outside the plant blocked by a wall of around 50 riot police, dressed in black and wearing helmets. Police vans were parked along the streets and plain clothes officers were filming and photographing proceedings.

The workers — some in white factory uniforms; others dressed in jeans, dresses, high heels and T-shirts — were in a defiant mood --pressing up against the rows of police.

Many retaliated, not with violence, but by snapping images of the stony-faced officers on pocket cameras and mobile phones to post on the Internet. Others ripped up factory notices of a meagre pay rise and scattered them over the ground.

“More money. More money," they chanted, while calling on the management to allow independent unions to be formed.

A small group of factory line managers tried desperately to mediate. One in white overalls and a blue "Honda Lock" cap stepped forward and shouted into a loud-hailer, demanding the massed workers return to duty or face "severe consequences".

But the workers jeered and heckled him before he was forced to beat a hasty retreat.

After more than an hour, management relented. The riot police parted their wall and the workers streamed off.

"We are not as cowardly and afraid of trouble (as the older workers),'1 said one of Wei's coworkers after the protest. The worker, a cheerful 20-year-old factory girl wearing a pink dress, gently mocked an older colleague in his 30s who was among a group of around 10 others gathered in her room.

"We don't think so much about things," she laughed. "The risk is worth taking. Now that we’ve started, we must finish it."

To be sure, workers of the previous generation weren't necessarily more satisfied with their work-

ing conditions. But, say labour experts, they rarely saw themselves remaining in urban areas and were less likely to directly challenge management.

"The rights mentality of younger workers is much stronger than past generations,” said Wen Xiaoyi, a researcher at the China Institute of Industrial Relations in Beijing. "The older workers tell you they feel a sense of loyalty to the company, but they also say that younger workers have a completely different attitude and higher expectations."

That change of attitude comes across in interviews with young workers in southern China, who often speak of an unwillingness to return to the countryside.

"My parents always tell me to be loyal and work hard for my company," said Zhang Hui, a 21-year old native of eastern Anhui province who works as a quality control supervisor at a factory making alarm clocks in

Dongguan.

"They really don't understand what it’s like out here. With their kind of thinking, I'D never get anywhere and will spend the rest of my life doing useless work in a factory," said Zhang, whose quiet demeanour, spectacles and wiry frame seemed to make him more at home in a library.

In the two years he has spent in Dongguan, Zhang has already worked in three different jobs, beginning with a position as a security guard that paid 1,100 yuan ($162) a month before overtime, to his current position that pays him over2,000yuan a month.

Several factors appear to be shaping the work attitudes of the current generation of migrant workers. One is economic. For over two decades, the world's top brands from Apple to Nike have paid suppliers in China to help them churn out the latest gadgets and sneakers.

But rapidly rising living costs

combined with higher expectations for material goods have begun to eat into much of their salaries. China's consumer price index accelerated to a 19-month high in May, driven by surging food prices and torrid growth in the country's red-hot property sector.

Spiking prices at coastal cities such as Dongguan and Shenzhen, which attracts the biggest number of immigrants, also means that few can achieve the middle-class lifestyle that attracted them to the city in the first place.

When Zhang first arrived in Dongguan in 2008, he paid less than 300 yuan ($44) a month for a bunk bed and a cupboard that he shared with five other roommates. While he has since upgraded to an apartment with a common sitting room that he shares with two friends, that same bunk bed will now go for at least 450 yuan a month, he said.

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