Abstract
I entered the high, barbed-fenced area under a flat-arched sign reading: “ZONA FRANCA.” The neatly laid-out streets and cheap, warehouse buildings reminded me of internment camps from the Second World War. Peering past the shotgun-toting guard into the high shell of a building, I saw row upon row of women, sitting at identical tables with identical postures, surrounded by identical piles of cloth stacked beside identical sewing machines. I had entered the brave new world of the Export Processing Zone in San Pedro de Macoris in the Dominican Republic.
Get full access to this article
View all access options for this article.
