Once upon a time I would travel to the United States. I would work hard there, sweeping Wal-Mart, or doing landscaping, or working at McDonalds. The Americans would give me sneering looks, spit on me occasionally, and the hicks with flag T-shirts would wave guns. Then things changed, I found work in Mexico at an American Auto factory. It was good you know, I was with my people, and I was paid well.
I hear there is another side of this story though, the Americans lost jobs, and they became more like us. It is the equalizing of all things. It is like the end of time. The valleys come up, the hills come down!