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Monthly Archives: September 2013

Brazil: Adapting to a Tough Work Environment

29 Sunday Sep 2013

Posted by Rosaliene Bacchus in Brazil, Working Life

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

Cascavel/Ceará, Challenges in the workplace, International trade professional, Joint-venture company, leather factory

Inside Brazilian TanneryInterior of a Cow Leather Factory in North Brazil
Photo Credit: Otavio Araujo Blogspot

When I began working at Italbras Leather Producer & Exporter Ltd.,* I did not think that I would survive the three-month probationary period. My body had a hard time adapting to waking at 4:00 a.m. After oversleeping one morning during the first week on the job, I started waking every hour to check the time. The stress took its toll. Before my probationary period ended, I had suffered two bouts of the flu.

Never before had I worked in such a noisy office environment. The Export Manager, her assistant, and I shared a spacious, open office with the Industrial Director (a paulista from the State of São Paulo) and his two production assistants, and the Import Manager. We occupied the top floor of a three-story building constructed within the leather factory. Half-walls of glass gave us a view of the factory floor.

The incessant rumbles of giant, rotating drums, blended with the cacophony of other machinery, disrupted my concentration. The constant movement and chatter of factory staff compounded my distress.

The company’s two cultures presented a graver challenge. The one-year-old company was a Brazilian-Italian joint-venture. The Italians provided the machinery and technology for finishing cow leather for upholstery. The Brazilian meat processing group, based in São Paulo, supplied the hides. The ‘wet blue’ tanned hides used at Italbras were tanned at another location.

In addition to being part of the export team and working under the watchful eye of the Industrial Director, I had to answer directly to two external bosses. Mr. Leonelli,* the Italian Commercial Director, supervised my control of payment receipts from overseas clients. For my control of export financing through Foreign Exchange Contracts (Contratos de Câmbio de Exportação), I worked closely with the Brazilian Finance Director in São Paulo.

Every three months, Mr. Leonelli—with whom the Export Manager maintained daily contact by phone—visited our factory in Cascavel, Ceará. Our first encounter was a disaster. I had committed some grave error in handling the account for our major American client. He had a fit. In a loud, agitated voice, he reprimanded me—in Italian.

Everyone tuned in to witness my public whipping. Seated still and attentive, I kept my eyes on him. When his tirade ended, I asked the Export Manager, fluent in Italian and English, to interpret what had just transpired. Knowledge of Italian was not a prerequisite for my post, but it became clear that I would need to learn the language.

I never got used to his verbal outbursts in Italian. Inevitably, in spite of my diligence, mistakes did occur. In assuming responsibility for my mistakes, acting on his criticisms about my work, understanding his vision of our goals, and learning new ways of handling a task or problem, I succeeded in establishing a productive, professional relationship with him.

Over time, I came to appreciate Mr. Leonelli’s excellence as a global commercial executive. Under his tutelage, I became a ‘top grain’ international trade professional.

* Fictitious name

No Man is an Island

22 Sunday Sep 2013

Posted by Rosaliene Bacchus in Guyana, Human Behavior, Social Injustice, United States

≈ 23 Comments

Tags

Global unemployment, The One Percent, U.S. bill to cut food-aid programs, U.S. poverty rate, Unemployed youth worldwide

Guyana National Schools' ChoirGuyana National Schools’ Choir
Photo Credit: Stabroek News

 

Some days ago, I awoke with thoughts of the song, “No Man is an Island.” It’s not the type of song that one hears on the airwaves. Our subconscious mind has a way of linking new information with lessons learned in our youth.

No man is an island
No man stands alone
Each man’s joy is joy to me
Each man’s grief is my own.
 
We need one another
So I will defend
Each man as my brother
Each man as my friend.

During my senior high school years, I learned this song as a Glee Club member. Through an Internet search, I discovered that this song is still sung by high school and church choirs. I liked the traditional rendition by the EskDale High School choir in spring 2012. There is even a Reggae version by John Holt.

In their Global Employment Trends 2013, released in January 2013, the International Labor Organization (ILO) reported that the number of unemployed people worldwide in 2012 rose by 4.2 million, bringing the unemployed to 197 million. Young people worldwide have been especially hit hard. In advanced economies some 35 percent of unemployed youth have been out of work for six months or longer. Discouraged, more and more of them are leaving the labor force.

The ILO Director-General noted that “the global nature of the crisis means countries cannot resolve its impact individually.” We are all in this together. No country stands alone. We need one another.

On 17 September 2013, the U.S. Census Bureau released America’s official poverty rate for 2012. Fifteen percent or 46.5 million Americans live at or below the poverty line. But these figures did not deter the U.S. House of Representatives from passing a bill, two days later, to cut government food-aid programs by $39 billion over the next ten years. Next year will be bleak for 3.8 million Americans who will be scratched from the list of food-stamp beneficiaries.

The One Percent—who have used their wealth to hijack our government—have no sense of social responsibility towards citizens who face hunger or food insecurity, underemployment or unemployment, homelessness or displacement. The One Percent, their vassals, and henchmen have forgotten the lessons of history. In time, the grief of the oppressed becomes the grief of the oppressor. Each man’s grief is our own.

What is a star without his or her fans? What is a business without its customers? What is a factory without its workers? What is an army without our sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, fathers, and mothers? We need one another. We are interdependent.

For how long can we enjoy the fruits of the labor of those we despise? For how long can we buy unnecessary stuff produced by workers who lack the basic necessities of life? For how long can we kill innocent men, women, and children in the name of religion, democracy, justice, or whatever justification we devise?

No man is an island. No man stands alone. We need to defend one another.

Brazil: Pushing Beyond My Limits

15 Sunday Sep 2013

Posted by Rosaliene Bacchus in Brazil, Working Life

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

Cascavel/Ceará, Ceará’s Coastal Highway CE-040, Challenges in professional life, Fortaleza/Ceará, Pushing beyond one’s limits

East Coast Highway CE-040 - Ceara - BrazilEast Coast Highway CE-040 – Ceará – Brazil
Photo Credit: blogdotamandua.com.br

 

Sometimes in life, events occur that force us to push beyond our limits. When I got the highly coveted position as Administrative Supervisor of foreign payment receipts and Foreign Exchange Contracts for exports (Contratos de Câmbio de exportação) in the Export Department at Italbras Leather Producer & Exporter S.A. (fictitious name), my first challenge was the distance I had to travel to and from the company’s Head Office and tannery in Cascavel, Ceará.

I do not drive. Making the 38-mile trip to Cascavel—along Ceará’s principal federal Highway BR-116 via a metropolitan bus line—for the job interview was a hurdle I had to overcome. Since the company provided private transport for its staff in Fortaleza and its environs, I did not have the day-to-day hassle of using public transport.

According to the pick-up schedule prepared by the company’s Personnel Manager, I was the first on the schedule, starting at 5:00 a.m. In order to get out of bed by 4:30 a.m., I had to set my alarm for 4:00 a.m. I’m a slow riser. This meant that I could no longer cook lunch for my sons before leaving for work, as was my practice over the years. I began cooking in the evenings when I got home. That was usually around seven. First to be picked up; last to be dropped off.

During the first few months, I stayed awake during the journey, soaking in the scenery in the quiet early mornings. Our bus, equipped with reclining seats and a restroom in the rear—later, we got a small TV mounted behind the driver’s seat—took Highway CE-040 connecting Ceará’s beaches east of Fortaleza. Within a month, the novelty of travelling across unfamiliar territory soon faded.

Owing to the round trip to pick up other staff members, our trip to Italbras took two hours. After a while, I was able to return to a deep sleep. I recall my embarrassment the time I overslept while everyone disembarked without waking me. The guys never let me forget that incident. Our return trips on Friday afternoons, at the end of our work week, were good times spent together.

Our workdays began at 7:00 a.m. and ended at 5:00 p.m. from Mondays to Thursdays and at 4:00 p.m. on Fridays, with an hour for lunch. A trained culinary staff prepared and served breakfast, lunch, and dinner to all workers in the company’s dining hall.

After a couple of months of my new waking and cooking schedule, my sixteen- and eighteen-year-old sons offered to take care of the cooking. No prompting from me. Without their support, I could not have taken on the greatest challenge of my professional life in Brazil.

The Artist, the Desert & the Raven

08 Sunday Sep 2013

Posted by Rosaliene Bacchus in People, United States

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

Abstract expressionism, Freelance illustrator and graphic designer, Mindscapes, Phillip Aceves, Pop surrealism, Portraits, Visual Artist

Felipe by Vanessa Flores (Pen on Paper)Portrait of Visual Artist Phillip Aceves by Vanessa Flores
(Pen on Paper)

Over a year had gone by before I discovered that Phillip Aceves, my lanky neighbor with a long ponytail, was a visual artist. One day, I met him working outdoors spray painting on a canvas. At the time, he was still an art student at the Otis College of Art and Design. In May 2012, after a three-year program, he graduated with a Bachelor of Fine Arts Degree in Communication Arts: illustration and graphic design.

Phillip’s works include portraits, mindscapes, abstract expressionism, and pop surrealism. In his portraits, he strives to capture his subject’s inner character. His portrait of Vanessa is one of his favorites.

Vanessa (oil paint)Vanessa by Phillip Aceves (Oil Paint)

His mindscapes, like Twilight Shaman, evolved over twenty-plus years of living in California’s Mojave Desert and expanded through his exposure to Salvador Dali’s surrealist paintings. As a child, he perceived the desert landscape as a blank canvas on which to conjure up his own images.

Twilight Shaman - oil paint, house paint and acrylic spraypaint 24'' x 18''Twilight Shaman by Phillip Aceves
(Oil paint, house paint & acrylic spray paint – 24 in x 18 in)

Fascinated by what he considers a visual technique of reckless controlled chaos, Phillip draws inspiration for his abstract paintings from Jackson Pollock.

His favorite colors—yellow ochre, burnt sienna, and cobalt blue—are a legacy of his years submerged in the desert landscape. Other favorites include burgundy, purple, and violet. While he mostly creates with oil paints, he also works with other medium: spray paints, markers, pen and ink, and, to a lesser extent, watercolor and collage.

Inspiration comes from making sense of the world he lives in and events that affect his life. The Raven recaptures a life-changing event. Eight years ago, while he and his friends were enjoying a day at a popular Amusement Park, a large raven swooped down and clawed Phillip’s head. The unexplained attack resulted in facial nerve paralysis, known as Bell’s palsy, on one side of his face. For four months, his one-sided drooped face drew unwanted negative attention. The experience gave him a new perspective of life. No more does he make fun of other people. Death of our old self leads to a new beginning.

Raven (with frame) - markers, spray paint and pen & ink 10'' x 13''Raven by Phillip Aceves
(Markers, spray paint, pen & ink – 10 in x 13 in)

On his canvases of predominantly dark color tones, Phillip regurgitates our self-absorption, the vulnerability of our idols, and our struggle to overcome great odds.

Like far too many visual artists, Phillip’s greatest challenge lies in maintaining a balance between financial stability and passion for his craft. His main source of income comes from his work as a freelance illustrator and graphic designer: mainly logos, T-shirt designs, and business cards. After a rewarding part-time stint as an art teacher at an independent art studio, he plans to pursue other teaching opportunities.

In April 2013, Phillip held the first exhibition of his art work at The Hive Gallery in Los Angeles. His next exhibition is scheduled for October 2013 at the Sagebrush Cafe in his hometown.

“When the Pain Stopped” – Poem by Angela Consolo Mankiewicz

04 Wednesday Sep 2013

Posted by Rosaliene Bacchus in Poetry, United States

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

American poet Angela Consolo Mankiewicz, In memory of Trayvon Martin, Poetry, Racism poem

Trayvon Martin wearing a hoodieIn Memory of Trayvon Martin
Photo Credit: Madame Noire

 

In my Poetry Corner September 2013, I feature Part II of the three-part poem “When the Pain Stopped” by American poet, Angela Consolo Mankiewicz. Be forewarned. Angela has a way of getting under our skin. The images she conjures may be unsettling.

My Haiku poem “Did You Cry Out?” in memory of Trayvon Martin was inspired by a line in Angela’s poem. During the attack that ended his life, cries for help are audible in the background of the audio recording of the 9-1-1 call. The identity of the person yelling was never verified during his killer’s trial.

When I first read Angela’s chapbook, An Eye, published in 2006, I connected immediately with her poetry. In her long narrative poem, “Caiti,” she does not shy away from the raw, ugly emotions of a friend’s struggles with a daughter on crack.

Do you remember that day in September,
a couple of years ago?
4 months after you filled your belly
with pills, 6 months after you rid it
of a 2nd 5-monthold fetus, 2 years after you first
threatened your mother with murder,
4 years after you thrashed through the house,
slamming doors and crashing windows,
rolling into a ball of flailing arms and legs,
begging her to stop the pain sucking you into a whirlwind
she couldn’t pull you out of, anymore?

In Wired, published in 2001, her poem “Going Home Alone” poked at my open wound caused by a mother who clung to past hurts. Better for me to stay away and avoid a bitter tongue lashing.

You can always go home again,
you can’t not go home again
and again and again and again.
 
The trick is to stop
to pull out that sign
the one that says ENOUGH

Angela’s cancer poems tell other stories of her life while facing and beating cancer. She doesn’t hide behind tales of heroism. My favorite cancer poem is “Who Am I To Cry” from As If, published in 2008, and featured in my Poetry Corner June 2011. We know that our pain is nothing when compared to the sufferings of others in more dire conditions. But it’s our pain, our life. It’s okay for us to cry.

Her collection, Cancer Poems, published in 1995, is filled with angst in the face of her husband’s cancer diagnosis, surgery, and radiation treatment. Their love for each other is evident in every poem. In “August 26: Not Yet Grief,” her anguish seeps from the page.

Who do I run to if not to you? Bearing
this doom that is not yet grief, rumbling
through my body. Who, if not you, who have loved me
and held me and heard me; you, who assuage the pains
and anguish of being alive, you, who have given me
courage to face everything but this.

When the pains stop and we face death, what matters more than having loved and being loved?

My Neighbor Benny

01 Sunday Sep 2013

Posted by Rosaliene Bacchus in Leisure & Entertainment, People, United States

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Classical guitar teacher, Maximum Overdrive Glam Rock Band, New York Glam Rock, Rock Band Lead Guitarist Ben Mitchell, Rock Bands 1970s to 1990s, Strange Love Rock Band, The Brats, The Magic Tramps

Ben Mitchell - New York Glam Rock Band Lead Guitarist - Portrait by Phillip AcevesBen Mitchell – Glam Rock Band Lead Guitarist
New York/USA – 1970s to 1990s
Portrait by Young American Artist, Phillip Aceves

My neighbor Benny Capasso is a soft-spoken, unassuming man. His thick black hair falls over his forehead and ears. I’ve seen him come and go, carrying a black guitar case. In May 2013, graduating with a Bachelor of Music (Honors) degree, he was happy that his studies were over.

In July, Phillip Aceves posted the above portrait of Benny on his Facebook page. Imagine my surprise! Benny was a former Glam Rock Band lead guitarist who had played with the best in rock at clubs in the Lower East Side of New York City where he was born. During his days in the limelight, people asked to take photos with him. Such public recognition still amazes him.

Influenced by his first generation Italian-American father, a photographer and swing dancer, Benny began playing the clarinet at eight years old. After playing the clarinet for nine years and learning to play the piano, Benny fell in love with the guitar.

In the late 1960s when he joined the Grindle rock band, Benny, then known as Ben Mitchell, embarked on his journey to success as a lead guitarist. Performing in New York’s top concert venue and popular clubs pushed him into the limelight. When the band went defunct, he played an active role in the emerging 1970s New York Glam Rock.

The Magic Tramps Glam Rock Band - New York 1980sThe Magic Tramps Rock Band – New York 1980s
(Ben Mitchell in the far back)

After guitarist Rick Rivets founded The Brats in the early 1970s, Benny became one of their lead guitarists. While the band played in the New York clubs, they shared billings with Joey Ramone, Blondie, Wayne County, Street Punk, and other acts. Benny also jammed with Paul Stanley and Gene Simmons of Wicked Lester, which later become known as KISS.

In the 1980s and 1990s, Benny performed with several other bands, including The Magic Tramps, another successful Glam Rock band, Maximum Overdrive, Goldie Locks, the Rocket Project, and Strange Love. With the loss of their star drummer, Strange Love floundered: a great blow for Benny. Later, cancellation of his audition for the Ozzy Osbourne group left a deep wound. The music within him died.

Maximum Overdrive Rock Band - New York Late 1980sMaximum Overdrive – New York 1980s
(L to R: Ben Mitchell, Marky Ramone, Franky Gibson)

Then, the September 11 attack on the World Trade Center changed his life. As the toxic dust settled over his neighborhood, Benny’s lungs were no longer the same. In 2004, he moved to Los Angeles for a new beginning.

After his years of dedication to obtain his degree, Benny is ready for the new phase in his life as a music teacher of guitar and classic guitar. With his years of performance in New York’s rock bands, he has much more to offer his students than technical training, music theory, and musicianship.

For young musicians seeking a career in music, Benny offers this advice: “A personal desire to pursue the Arts is a valid reason for you to do so, regardless of what obstacles life presents to you.”

In contact with former Strange Love band members, Benny plans to get the group together again for recording some of their old hits. Stay tuned.

Strange Love Rock Band - New York 1990sStrange Love – New York 1990s
(Ben Mitchell on the left)

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