Gamarra

There is an American song which contains the familiar lyrics that “each day is sweeter than the day before.” Those musical lines characterize my view of the OLLAS program in Peru. At the end of each day, I marvel over the mind-broadening experiences to which the group has been exposed. Yesterday five of us (Janet West, Paul and Linda Sather, and Dr. Jonathan Benjamín-Alvarado) visited the Gamarra Garmet District (the students are scheduled to make a similar visit next week). By American standards, it would be considered blighted and impoverished. The District was a “gated community,” that is, it was surrounded by an iron fence keeping any unwanted out of the district. We were accompanied by two armed security gentleman who packed pistols in their sports jackets. Therein lies the paradox.

It is not that we were “unwanted” per se, but it was obvious that no one there knew who we were. You see, it is not exactly an open market as is understood in the United States. It is the vortex of much of the fabric and garment manufacturing in Latin America, and perhaps, in the United States. It has potential to be the same for the rest of the World. Not too long ago, Peru signed a trade agreement with China. We were told that the Peruvian police had to recently evacuate a Chinese businessman from the District. His life was in danger once rumor spread that he was in the District. The locals viewed his presence as a threat to their livelihood. Their beliefs may not have been unfounded.

Once in the District, we visited several shops wherein cloth was sewn into garments. We were allowed to observe the processes first hand and even take pictures. Among many adults, several of the workers were children. At first they all seemed a little squeamish at our presence; however, when they became the targets of the flashes of our digital cameras, they quickly warmed up, gave us high-five and thumbs-up gestures and smiled as we took pictures. Some of them grinned when we showed them their images.

The process was amazing. The sewn garments were of “export quality.” The young workers were even more amazing, and the process was highly detailed. Each worker in a given “shop” performed a specific task in the assembly of the final garments . Once completed, that “piece” was given to another worker to perform another task. Meeting the quality standards of the international garment industry, one could easily understand how the end product-–suits, dresses, pajamas, pants, blankets, mattresses, whatever-–could end up on the shelves and be the proud products of prominant American clothing retailers. However, the “Peruvian source” might be disguised by elusive governmental source-labeling rules.

We were allowed to purchase items if we wished, however, the real educational moment was to see and understand the human element associated with the production of products to be dispatched globally. When we left we understood better that the world´s economy could not function efficiently without the precious labor provided by these Peruvian youth. I thought about the ethical dilemma that I often present in our often sterile classrooms. Americans categorically condemn child labor. In Peru the labor provided by these children generates income for their families. Without this income they face abject poverty. Without their labor the rest of the world would not pay the consequent and inevitable retail prices. In reality, coming full circle, they are a crucial cog in making our lives “affordable.” Although a “third world” country by the Title Givers, they, in part, make our lives better.

Darryll Lewis, J.D., Finance, Banking and Law, CBA