【推荐2】New York’s Underside

A dangerous job

Since I was a boy, I have always looked down open manholes with curiosity, so I welcomed the opportunity to explore and write about the world beneath New York City. With a group of 11 “sandhogs” — the nickname for the workers who build New York’s underground — boarded a slow, shaky elevator lit by a single light bulb. Slowly we went down a shaft dug through 200 meters of rock. The sandhogs were building a new tunnel to bring water into the city, The present tunnel system carries more than 5.6 billion liters of water every day. That’s enough water to fill more than 2,200 Olympic-sized swimming pools.

As we descended, it got dark and the air got cool. I looked up into darkness and down into deeper blackness, then the elevator stopped, and everyone got out. Then came the hard part, climbing another 10 meters down a long, slippery metal ladder. At the bottom was a dark tunnel filled with dust and smoke. Sandhogs were using explosives like dynamite to cut through the solid rock. The tunnel extends slowly — only four meters a day — and with each day come new dangers. Sandhogs live in constant fear of being hurt by sharp pieces of exploded rock. Their bodies are covered in such scars.

“Why do this work?” I asked Brian Gallagher, a sandhog for 16 years. Brian’s father was a sandhog, too, but it is not tradition that brought him here. “It’s the money,” he said. An experienced sandhog earns over $100,000 a year. The rewards are well deserved. A sandhog’s chances of dying on the job are far greater than those of an above-ground construction worker, or even a New York City police officer.“Everything down here can kill you,“ one sandhog said. They know many more workers will die before the tunnel is completed.

A river of sewage

On another trip below the city, sewer worker Jeff Kwami showed me how the city’s sewage is kept flowing smoothly. We went down a manhole wearing plastic bodysuits, gloves, and tanks of air. Everything around us was wet and slippery, as we climbed carefully down 12 meters and then stopped on a narrow concrete step. In front of me was a fast-moving river of sewage nearly two meters wide. It smelled awful. I asked Kwami, “What happens if you fall in and you’re not attached to a rope?” He said if you didn’t pull yourself out, you’d drown in the sewage. But unlike the dangers sandhogs face, such situations are rare. As we move through the sewer, Kwami seems calm and confident, but it’s still a terrifying thought.

Later, as we left the darkness and danger below, Kwami joked, “See any alligators?” Over the years, there have been stories about giant alligators living in the sewers. I tell Kwami that in 1935, the New York Times reported an alligator was pulled from a sewer. He still didn’t believe it, and we laugh together as we climb back to the surface.

【推荐1】While watching videos on Douyin one day, I came across a very unique profile（轮廓）: an 88-year-old farmer livestreaming trendy products in a rural setting. I clicked his page and saw that he was livestreaming because he needed to cover his wife's medical expenses. Curious, I decided to contact him and learn more about his story.

Now a retired farmer, Wu relies on government subsidies（补贴）. One rainy day, he returned to his rundown one-floor cottage in the suburb of Henan province and found his wife lying on the ground in great pain. She had broken her leg and lost the ability to walk.

A great burden befell this already poverty-stricken family. The medical expenses for Wu's wife are about 800 yuan per month. Her daughter, a mother of three and a housewife, has no means of supporting Wu financially. As a heavy user on Douyin, Wu's daughter thought that perhaps they too could try livestreaming as a way to help their family. With a 9.9 yuan phone holder, they began livestreaming on Douyin, and Wu became one of the oldest livestreamers on the platform.

Every day, Wu livestreams for a total of six hours, separated into morning and afternoon sessions. With a broad smile and soothing（宽慰的）voice, he explains the products on his table, which range from water bottles, makeup removers and vegetables to traditional Chinese clothing that Wu himself wears in front of the camera. Thousands of viewers are drawn in by his moving story and amiable（和蔼的）personality. They refer to him dearly as "my uncle Wu" or "Laoxiang".

During my interview with him, Wu would laugh warmly. His strong Henan dialect was sometimes hard to understand, but his tone was full of comfort and optimism. "I enjoy livestreaming. One day, one of the viewers came to visit me. I was so happy." Wu spoke about the friendships he made after becoming a livestreamer, and his voice was so contagious（感染力的）that it put a smile on my face.

He also does not avoid showing affection for his wife: "I will buy her good food when I have the money." I am moved by his ability to see the optimistic side of life despite being struck by hardships and his resilience（坚韧）sailing through the low tides of life.