ecord, and to risk being fired, because, like David, he dreams of a life beyond the factory. Every day after his eight-hour shift, he attends high school until eleven at night. He'd have liked to have gone to a technical, or technical school, but Valle hermoso has only a general high school. So hes unsure about what he ll do with his degree. All he knows is that he wants to get out of the maquiladora soon We sit on the upturned paint buckets and sacks of cement that litter the yard. To alejandro, the idea that this blond guy once did his same job, and now has come looking for it, is almost too much to believe. He and David explore each other tentatively by talking a little shop I spray the mold with mold release and a layer of paint, Alejandro says. "I close it and inject the polyurethane. Then I open it and hand it behind me to a man who trims it with a knife. I make twenty wheels an hour What does the mold look like? Like a big clamshell, Alejandro says Thats it exactly, "David says, slapping his knees. He asks whether Alejandro's factory has eyewash stations, which the federal Occupational Safety and Health Administration required breed to have in How about hearing protectors? Gloves? "Only sometimes Jeez, David says to me. Those wheels are so hot when they come out of the mold that sometimes d have to wear two pairs. He turns to Alejandro. How do you handle a wheel without gloves? Rapidly, Alejandro answers, without irony. Then it's his turn. He asks David what it was like when the company moved Id come in to my shift, David says, and every night there d be another mold pulled off the line, mounted on a pallet and shrink-wrapped. On the side, someone would have written Mexico' in bi black letters. It was like watching your job get shipped away right in front of your eyes. "A thought strikes him. " You're not only doing the same job, you' re probably using the same mold Alejandro pulls out a pay slip. His base pay for forty-eight hours is 274.68 pesos, or about twenty- nine dollars. To that are added bonuses for punctuality, perfect attendance and productivity subtracted are union dues and taxes, leaving a take-home pay of 459 pesos, or forty-eight dollars a week. a dollar an hour. Company transportation to and from work costs about a dollar a day, and lunch in the company cafeteria is another dollar, so Alejandro's net is closer to thirty-six dollars arecord, and to risk being fired, because, like David, he dreams of a life beyond the factory. Every day after his eight-hour shift, he attends high school until eleven at night. He’d have liked to have gone to a technical, or technical school, but Valle Hermoso has only a general high school. So he’s unsure about what he’ll do with his degree. All he knows is that he wants to get out of the maquiladora soon. We sit on the upturned paint buckets and sacks of cement that litter the yard. To Alejandro, the idea that this blond guy once did his same job, and now has come looking for it, is almost too much to believe. He and David explore each other tentatively by talking a little shop. “I spray the mold with mold release and a layer of paint,” Alejandro says. “I close it and inject the polyurethane. Then I open it and hand it behind me to a man who trims it with a knife. I make twenty wheels an hour.” “What does the mold look like?” “Like a big clamshell,” Alejandro says. “That’s it exactly,” David says, slapping his knees. He asks whether Alejandro’s factory has eyewash stations, which the federal Occupational Safety and Health Administration required Breed to have in Indiana. “No.” “How about hearing protectors?” “No.” “Gloves?” “Only sometimes.” “Jeez,” David says to me. “Those wheels are so hot when they come out of the mold that sometimes I’d have to wear two pairs.” He turns to Alejandro. “How do you handle a wheel without gloves?” “Rapidly,” Alejandro answers, without irony. Then it’s his turn. He asks David what it was like when the company moved. “I’d come in to my shift,” David says, “and every night there’d be another mold pulled off the line, mounted on a pallet and shrink-wrapped. On the side, someone would have written ‘Mexico’ in big black letters. It was like watching your job get shipped away right in front of your eyes.” A thought strikes him. “You’re not only doing the same job, you’re probably using the same mold!” Alejandro pulls out a pay slip. His base pay for forty-eight hours is 274.68 pesos, or about twenty￾nine dollars. To that are added bonuses for punctuality, perfect attendance and productivity; subtracted are union dues and taxes, leaving a take-home pay of 459 pesos, or forty-eight dollars a week. A dollar an hour. Company transportation to and from work costs about a dollar a day, and lunch in the company cafeteria is another dollar, so Alejandro’s net is closer to thirty-six dollars a