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In the mornings, we watched another group of women hail jitneys to the outskirts of town, surrounded by street kids and begging amputees who lost their limbs to land mines. These women sewed clothes and reported to Chinese factory contractors, who reported to American managers, who reported to shareholders. Every once in a while, an exposé about the sweatshops reached American televised news. To Z, shareholders had an astoundingly predictable, biannual ritual of expressing shock about the sweatshop conditions in which these women earned less than $2 a day.