like wandering showcases. They sell imported clothes, milk or coffee packages, homemade cakes, viands or vegetables. At first sight, the common features are being black or mestizo and evidently poor, but after the initial impression we can find more similarities. I interviewed three women in the midst of their street fights: Dora, a recycled items’ collector and seller; Martha, a pharmaceuticals reseller; and Machi, a
cake seller. It surprised me they all have the same jobs in the state labor system: they are cleaning aids. One in a warehouse, one in a school, and the other in a hospital. And they have the same reason for being street vendors: to cover the basic needs that are not satisfied by their meager wages earned at their state workplaces. Two of them had a degree and worked for a while in their specialties, but they must leave them.
Machi, 27, found herself in an ethical dilemma. After graduating as a lawyer at the University of Oriente, she worked in a law firm, but decided to quit in face of the danger of going to jail. " The only way to make money there was taking bribes for doing things that violate the law. I have a daughter. Every time I was forced to do something illegal, I did it with fear that it could be discovered. I finally decided to quit for my peace of mind.”
However, finding a new job is not easy in today ' s depressing economic circumstances. It would have been ideal for her to set up her own business, because she loves baking, but she does not have capital. She started to sell cakes on the streets and in her former workplace. Each morning, she comes with 30 cakes in a container. " I sell them at 2 pesos each; I have my clients, who come to look for them as soon as they see me. From time to time, I make
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