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Credit: Heidi Ewing and Rachel Grady. Detropia is a 2012 documentary film, directed by Heidi Ewing and Rachel Grady, about the bankrupt city of Detroit, Michigan.

When I first arrived in Panama City in 1962 to continue my high school education, about 98 percent of the automobiles on the streets were manufactured in the United States.  Now, 51 years later, the Japanese and South Korean automobiles have taken the streets by storm.  American cars are almost non-existent.  Occasionally you will see a Ford or a Chevy roaming the streets.  Not many.

After the “Oil Shock” of the mid‑1970s, the price of oil became extremely volatile.  It was the consolidation  of an oil cartel known as OPEC ( Organization of the Petroleum Exporting Countries) consisting of twelve countries, including Iran, seven Arab countries (Iraq, Kuwait, Libya, Qatar, Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates), plus Venezuela, Indonesia, Nigeria, and Ecuador, formed at a Baghdad conference on September 14, 1960.  OPEC was organized to resist pressure by the “Seven Sisters” (mostly owned by U.S., British, and Dutch nationals) to cut oil prices and payments to producing countries.

At first OPEC had operated as an informal bargaining unit for the sale of oil by resource-rich Third World nations. OPEC confined its activities to gaining a larger share of the profits generated by the Western oil companies and greater control over the members’ levels of production. As a result of this and other events in the early 1970s, it began to exert its economic and political strength; the major Western oil conglomerates, as well as the importing nations, suddenly faced a unified bloc of exporters.

As the price for oil skyrocketed, the Japanese started to manufacture compact vehicles with a low consumption of gasoline.  The American automobile industry kept on producing gasoline guzzling vehicles which were in low demand by U.S. consumers.  South Korea followed the path of the Japanese automobile industry and began displacing American cars, (e.g., General Motors, Chrysler and Ford).  The Motor City suffered from the dwindling demand originated by Asian competition,

Detroit, also known as Motor City, is now a shadow of what it was in the “good ole days”.  It was recently in the news that Governor Rich Snyder appointed an emergency manager over Detroit finances.  Detroit has a $327 million budget deficit and more than $14 billion in long-term debt.  Detroit is an agonizing city with no money.

In 2012, Heidi Ewing and Rachel Grady directed a dramatic documentary called Detropia, about the decaying city of Detroit in Michigan.  This film on the city of Detroit and its woes, is emblematic of the collapse of the United States manufacturing base.  It is the Midwestern icon, actually a canary in the American coal mine.

Detropia sculps a dreamlike collage of a grand city teetering on the brink of dissolution.  With block upon block of crumbling houses, abandoned stores, and churches and theaters left to rot like ancient ruins, this old industrial city can easily seem like a ghost town of vanquished dreams.

Its residents embody the spirit of the Motor City as it struggles to survive in a post industrial America and begins to envision a radically different future.  It is a sad story of a city and its people who refuse to accept that the city is passing away. It focuses on the decline of the economy of Detroit due to long-term changes in the automobile industry, and the effects that the decline has had on the city’s residents and infrastructure.

The film’s name came from a portmanteau of the words “Detroit” and “utopia“, and was inspired by an abandoned auto parts store, where the letter “A” in “AUTO” and the letters “R”, “T”, and “S” in “PARTS” were missing from the store’s sign. The letter “I” had been painted into the part of the store front to make the sign read “UTO PIA”.

My heart goes out to the thousands and thousands of manufacturing workers wandering aimlessly through the streets of Detroit looking for jobs that have migrated to Mexico, Thailand, Malaysia, Philippines, China and other emerging economies.  I know how painful it feels to be unemployed—been there done that.  I was unemployed for more than ten years surviving with on and off moonshine jobs.  My wife had to work as a waiter in a small restaurant to put food on the table.  I know what hunger is and how the stomach aches when it is empty and you have to drink generous amounts of water to keep it full and calm its rage before you go to sleep at night.  We had no children or else the nightmare would have been unimaginable.

In my opinion, the United States is no longer a manufacturing country.  The country has now reached the stage known as the Information Age or Post-Industrial Age where information is the main producer of jobs.  Manufacturing skills will have to be transformed into high-technology skills to meet the demand of this rapidly growing sector.  Space technology, computing programming, nanotechnology, economic engineering, energy exploration, and space transportation is where the jobs are.  Training people in these information areas is where the future lies.  In that direction is where Detroit, and the country as a whole, should be heading as fast as possible.  Motors are no longer the answer to their plights.  Good Day.

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Snapshot of a street sign designed by an employment agency called Arka. I’ve seen real people holding up these signs in Europe and the United States. Sometime they work and people actually get employed this way. In times of uncertainly, creativity will get you out of the hole. Photo by ©Omar Upegui R.

Snapshot of a street sign promoting a high quality furniture store in Panama City, Panama. Decolosal is the Ferrari of Panama, as far as fashion office furniture is concerned. Photo by ©Omar Upegui R.

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During my life I’ve worn several hats to earn a salary; sometimes there was no salary at all.  My wife had to take care of me.  Life is like the sea, it has its high tides and its low tides.

After being a Financial Director for the Panama Bureau of Tourism (Instituto Panameño de Turismo), I lost my job because there was a changing of the guard.  The PRD (Partido Revolucionario Democrático) won the elections in 1994 and the new General Director wanted to have his own team and needed my place.  I knew that was going to happen, as soon as the election results were known.  So I submitted my resignation, and that was that.

Finding a new job was most difficult because of my age.  I was 48.  In order to keep the ball rolling, my wife had to enter the job market.  She was hired as a waiter in a small restaurant and became the bread provider of our home.  I stayed home and became the house keeper the best I could—I lacked the skills to cook and all that stuff.  I had to learn how to mop, sweep, wash clothes, wash the dishes and occasionally cook very basic food—like boiled eggs.  (Omar smiles.)

After a drought of ten years, I found a job as a CSP (Customer Service Provider) for a company called SITEL.  It was, and still is, the largest call center in the country.  The pay was scant, but nevertheless it was a stable job with paid vacations, Social Security benefits, XIII Month and regular paychecks every two weeks.  In Spanish it’s called The Quincena-–the most anxiously awaited day of the month.  Payday was a sweet word for us.

My job at SITEL was to give customer service to customers of a U.S. company called XM Radio.  They marketed satellite radios and were very popular in 2007.  XM Radio later merged with Sirius Satellite Radio and became the largest satellite radio provider in the United States.

It was a stressing job.  Everything I said was in a script and I couldn’t stray from the structured job description.  If I did not follow the script to the word, my supervisor would deduct points from my performance and place them in a large sheet of paper pasted on a wall for everyone to see.  I was embarrassed to see my name printed there beside a mediocre performance.

Sometimes customers would ask where I was from, due to my deep Spanish accent.  They usually thought I was from India.  Frequently they would not want to talk to me.  They would say, “Sir, I don’t want to talk to you.  I’m not giving my Social Security Number to a corrupt Indian guy.  Switch me over to an American operator.  I want to talk to an American.”  I tried to persuade them that I could help him or her (it was part of my job to do so), but they insisted or hanged up the phone.  I remember crying at the end of the shift.  It was so humiliating, but we needed the money.

I hanged in there until July 3, 2008 when I finally retired after filling in my application with the Panama Social Security.  Since I had very good salaries in the past, my pension was generous.  For a change, I didn’t have to memorize a script and nobody could fire me anymore, as long as I lived.  Our problems to buy food were over.  It was Nirvana.  I couldn’t believe it for several months.  The quincenas were paid regularly and we went happily soon after to buy our food at El Machetazo, the nearest supermarket to our house.  With all the time in the world, I became an amateur photographer and a neophyte blogger and here I am writing to you guys now.

Below is a picture of an award I received for being one of the best customer service agents in the second quarter of 2007.  At least management didn’t consider my English accent awful and my overall job performance was up to par.  When I got the award, I felt like a million bucks.  I felt useful for a change.  The simple plastic award is sitting on my computer desk as a reminder of the most embarrassing job I ever had in my entire professional career.  The good thing though, is that it kept us going for several years.  In every difficult situation, there is always a bright side.  Not everything is black and gloomy.  Good Day.

Snapshot of the Finalist Agent Q2 2007 award I received at Sitel, a call center in Panama City, Panama. I received a basic salary of $500.00 a month plus sales commissions for satellite radios sold. The slogan of the company was Vision, Passion and Purpose. Photo by ©Omar Upegui R.

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Photograph of Faisuris writing down the dream in her personal agenda. Notice the ruggedness of her hands, a sign of hard physical work. Photo by ©Omar Upegui R.

“Whatever your mind can conceive and believe, it can achieve.” – Napoleon Hill

Who is Faisuris?  Faisuris is the name of a 23-year-old young woman from Sincelejo, the capital of the Department of Sucre in Colombia.   After graduating as a Criminalist Technician, she sent out thousands of résumés in an effort to obtain a job to sustain herself and her mother.  No joy.  Pressed by economic restraints, she had to accept a job as a clerk in a bingo company in her home town.  Her monthly salary of approximately $200 barely covered their basic needs.  Things were getting rough, and there wasn’t better job in sight.

After enduring many hardships, she decided to travel to Panama attracted by the American dollar and the stories of riches and good fortune in a land of milk and honey.  Some of her friends had made the journey and were doing well.  On January of 2010 she came to Panama City and started looking for a job.  Her tourist card prohibits her to work, but you know how it is, a woman’s got to do what a woman’s got to do.

A guardian angel hired her to sell sandwiches and homemade beverages from a small pickup.  The pickup would follow the flow of customers around the city during strategic hours of the day.

Photograph of Faisuris sitting on the back of the pickup which accommodates the mobile business of sandwiches and "chichas". Photo by ©Omar Upegui R.

Things are getting better.  She’s now sending $200 per month to her mother back home and saving to legalize her stay in Panama.  She starts her day at 5:00 a.m. and knocks it off at 2:00 p.m.  That’s the time when customer buy her sandwiches and “chichas” (home-made beverages). Back home she starts preparing the sandwiches and “chichas” for the next business day, and her cycles starts all over again.

She dreams of becoming an owner of a similar business.  As we talked, I could feel the burning desire inside her to fulfill her dream.  It’s that fire in the belly which make dreams come true.  Nelson Mandela comes to my mind.

Before leaving the scene, I asked her if I could take her picture. She nodded in acceptance.  Then I asked if she would like to send a message to the world, since I planned to write about her on the Internet.  She smiled and explained her message the best way she could.  She had problems getting the words out.  This is more or less what she said:

“It doesn’t matter what you do to make your dreams come true, as long as it’s honest.  Don’t feel embarrassed if you have to sell sandwiches and “chichas” on the street, as long as it’s legal and morally right. Hard work doesn’t denigrate people, in fact it gives people a certain air of dignity.”

Her words reminded me of Napoleon Hill, the author of the famous book “Think and Grow Rich”. My day was made and I returned home.  I’m sure Faisuris will make it big.  Good Day.

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Joke: Welfare Check


A wise guy walked into the local welfare office to pick up his check. He marched straight up to the counter and said, “Hi. You know, I just hate drawing welfare. I’d really rather have a job.”

The social worker behind the counter said, “Your timing is excellent. We just got a job opening from a very wealthy old man who wants a chauffeur and bodyguard for his beautiful daughter. You’ll have to drive around in his Mercedes, and he’ll supply all of your clothes. Because of the long hours, meals will be provided. You’ll be expected to escort the daughter on her overseas holiday trips and you will have to satisfy her sexual urges. You’ll be provided a two-bedroom apartment above the garage. The salary is $200,000 a year.”

The guy, wide-eyed, said, “You’re bullshittin’ me!”

The social worker said, “Yeah, well . . . you started it.

Source:  Bits & Pieces

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Last Friday, February 13th, I got up earlier than usual  because I needed to pick up a check at Profuturo and wanted to get there before the traffic jams.  In Panama we call them “tranques” and it’s like quick sand.  Once you get inside a “tranque” you’re stuck forever.  Due to an intense road repairs program, and the construction of the Coastal Strip (Cinta Costera) bordering the Balboa Avenue, there are tranques everywhere all day long .  But that’s another story.

I got to the parking lot of Profuturo about a quarter after six.  It was still dark and I had all the parking spaces I wanted and the traffic flow was just perfect.  The morning was cool and the air was fresh to breathe.  Now I had to wait until eight o’clock when Profuturo opened its doors to the public.

As I sat inside my car listening to the morning news, I noticed a young woman unpacking newspapers and organizing them in neat stack of about 25 newspapers each.  She was about 50 feet from where I was.  After organizing the stacks, she walked the streets peddling the papers while the cars waited for the light to switch from red to green.  She had a rapid pace and was always smiling.  She had to move fast to beat the traffic light.

What caught my attention was how much she walked.  She walked almost a whole block selling her newspapers before the red light switched to green.  She did this over and over again in an endless loop.  When she finished her stack of 25 papers, she went back to her spot to get some more.  I estimate she walks between 20 to 30 miles every day.  When the day is nice and cool, the work is bearable, but after 11:00 a.m. the blazing heat of Panama’s tropical sun can halt you to a crawl.  Just breathing is difficult, not to mention walking with a stack of 25 newspapers on your hands.

I approached and asked if I could take a photograph of her and also congratulated her, since Valentine’s Day would be the next day.  She smiled shyly and said yes.  Before I got her picture, she told that she had to wake up at 3:00 a.m. to take a bus from San Miguelito (about 15 kilometers away) to her spot in front of the El Carmen Church. She had to be there before 5:00 a.m. to receive the rack of newspapers from La Prensa Newspaper delivery truck.

Since she couldn’t get a regular job, the only paying  job available was selling La Prensa newspapers.  She had graduated from High School, knew a little bit about computers, but couldn’t get a normal job because she had no previous experience.   The only job she found available, was to work on the streets.  She had a little girl, three years old, and no supporting husband.  Soon after the child was born, he abandoned her for a younger woman.  She hasn’t seen him since.

Every day, Susana has to walk the streets of Panama in order to bring food to the table for a young hungry mouth waiting back home.  In a way, Susana reminded me of the early pioneers who traveled West on slow-moving schooners to find a piece a land to plant their roots.   They didn’t ask for bailouts, welfare, food stamps or other give outs.  All the wanted was a piece of land to call home and pay for that piece of land with good honest ole hard work.

When it rains, Susana’s hair gets wet.  When the sun it out, Susana’s hair gets hot.  When dirty water is splashed from the streets to the sidewalks, Susana’s clothes get wet and dirty.  But Susana is willing to bite the bullet to place some food on the table for a hungry mouth back home.  She does it with good honest ole work, the way it used to be a long time ago.

My dear readers, this is Susana, one of thousands of workers of the streets in Panama:

The face of one of the thousands of street workers in Panama who work below the traffic lights.

The face of one of the thousands of street workers in Panama who work below the traffic lights. (Credit to Michael Moore for photographic editing)

For the street workers of the world, just like Susana in Panama, who meets life face to face without faltering, I tip my hat to you.  You give us a lesson of dignity and honesty every day you go out and work on the streets for an honest fee.  Good Day.

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One of the worst nightmares for newly elect President Barack Obama, is the rapidly deterioration of the economy in the United States.  Since his short time in office, the situation is getting worse, more so than expected.

It’s already been a lousy year for workers less than a month into 2009 and there’s no relief in sight. Tens of thousands of fresh layoffs has been announced in the past three months, and more companies are expected to cut jobs  in the months ahead.

The recession, which started in December 2007, and is expected to stretch into this year, has been a job killer. The economy lost 2.6 million jobs last year, the most since 1945. The unemployment rate  jumped to 7.2 percent in December, the highest in 16 years, and is expected to keep climbing.

Forecaster have grown more pessimistic about the outlook of the economy in the near future. In a October survey, no forecaster thought GDP would fall by more than 1 percent.  In terms of business conditions, more reported customer demand dropping, capital spending reductions and shrinking profit margins.

Let’s take a look at some companies that have decided to cut their payroll in an effort to lower their operating costs and try to weather out the storm:

  • Pfizer Inc.: 8,000 employees.
  • Sprint Nextel Corp.: 8,000 employees.
  • Home Depot Inc.: 7,000 employees
  • General Motors Corp.: 2,000 employees.
  • Caterpillar Inc.: 5,000 employees.
  • Microsoft Corp.: 5,000 employees.
  • Intel Corp.:  6,000 employees.
  • United Airlines parent UAL Corp.: 1,000 employees.

Unless something unexpected  happens in the next couple of months, it’s a gloom-and doom scenario right now  It’s time to sit down on the kitchen table with a calculator in hand, and start planning for the future.  You could be one amongst thousands of workers with a pink slip in your hand.  In case this  happens, be prepared with a Plan A, Plan B and just in case, with a Plan C.  Good Day.

Source:  Tens of thousands more layoffs are announced – Yahoo! News

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John Smith started the day early, having set his alarm clock (made in Japan) for 6 a.m.  While his coffee pot (made in China) was picking up steam, he shaved with his electric razor (made in Hong Kong).

After hesitating for a moment, he put on a conservative white dress shirt (made in Sri Lanka), dark blue Levi’s jeans (made in Singapore) and a pair of comfortable tennis shoes (made in Thailand).

After cooking his breakfast in his brand new electric skillet (made in India) he sat down with his calculator (made in Mexico) to see how much he could spend today.

After setting his watch (made in Taiwan) based on the kitchen’s radio (made in Japan), he walked nervously to his BMW (made in Germany) and drove to the nearest service station to fill it up with Venezuelan gasoline.

He spent the rest of the day diligently searching for an elusive good paying American job.  After several unsuccessful job interviews, he returned home to continue searching using his laptop (made in Malaysia).  At the end of yet another discouraging and fruitless day, John decided to take a break.

He put on his sandals (made in Pakistan), poured himself a cup of red wine (made in France) and turned on his TV (made in Japan).

His head turned round and round like a merry-go-round, thinking why he couldn’t find a good paying job in America.

He thought so hard about this issue, that finally he fell asleep exhausted on the living room’s couch.  Can you help our friend John Smith find a decent job in the U.S.?  Good Day.

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A young guy goes to the Job Center in Charleston, W. Va., and sees a flyer advertising for a Gynecologist’s Assistant. Interested, he wants to learn more. “Can you give me some more details?” he asks the clerk.

The clerk pulls up a file ad and says, “The job entails getting ladies ready for the gynecologist. You have to help them out of their underwear, lay them down and carefully wash their private regions, then apply shaving foam and gently shave off any hair, then rub in soothing oils so they’re ready for the gynecologist’s examination. There’s an annual salary of $55 thousand, but you’re going to have to go to Charlotte, North Carolina. That’s about 250 miles from here.”

“Oh, is that where the job is?” the young man asks.

“No, sir: that’s where the end of the line is right now.”

Source:  Old Horsetail Snake

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