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\u2018The only way for us to survive\u2019: The life of a New York City candy seller | Migration News<\/p>\n
New York City, United States \u2013 <\/strong>A clock on the electronic display flickers to noon above the bustling Times Square subway station in New York City. Amid the lunchtime crowd of commuters and tourists stands Mar\u00eda, a 31-year-old single mother from Ecuador whose daily life revolves around this transit hub.<\/p>\n It is here, in the tunnels underneath the city, that Mar\u00eda earns the money she needs to survive.<\/p>\n On her back is her two-year-old daughter, and in her hands is a colourful tray of candy, crammed with packages of M&Ms and Kit Kat chocolates and sticks of Trident gum.<\/p>\n From the Times Square station, Mar\u00eda can hop on and off the Number 7 train, a popular link to the borough of Queens. As she walks from one carriage to the next, she repeats \u201ccandy\u201d and \u201cdollar\u201d \u2014 two of the few words she knows in English \u2014 hoping to make a sale.<\/p>\n Most people, however, look away. Others become aggressive, Mar\u00eda said.<\/p>\n New York City is in the midst of an immigration crisis, with more than 113,300 asylum seekers arriving since 2022 \u2014 and too few shelters to house them. With the city\u2019s immigration policies in the spotlight, Mar\u00eda\u2019s interactions with the public can be tense.<\/p>\n \u201cPeople insult us or record us without authorisation, accusing us of importing bad habits and poverty from home,\u201d Mar\u00eda said. \u201cThey don\u2019t understand our situation.\u201d<\/p>\n Mar\u00eda \u2014 who is using a pseudonym to protect her privacy \u2014 is part of a population of largely Ecuadorian candy sellers who make a living on the New York City subway system.<\/p>\n Peddling sweets is familiar work for Mar\u00eda: It is the same job she used to do in her hometown in the province of Cotopaxi. But it is also a necessity. Without legal papers authorising her stay in the US, finding steady employment is difficult, seemingly impossible.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s what my cousin and other women from Ecuador I know do because there are no job opportunities. It\u2019s the only way for us to survive,\u201d Mar\u00eda explained.<\/p>\n But each sale only nets her one dollar, maybe two. After working 13 hours straight, from 7am to 8pm, she might come home with $50 on a good day, $10 on a bad one.<\/p>\n Still, the pressures in her home country forced her and other Ecuadorian migrants to arrive here and eke out a living on the subway lines.<\/p>\n By the end of September, the US Border Patrol had apprehended 117,487 Ecuadorians for the fiscal year 2023 \u2014 more than four times the previous year\u2019s total.<\/p>\n Anthropologist Soledad Alvarez, a professor at the University of Illinois Chicago, considers this spike part of Ecuador\u2019s third major \u201cwave\u201d of emigration since the 1980s.<\/p>\n She told Al Jazeera the current exodus began in 2014, \u201ccaused by the decline in oil prices\u201d.<\/p>\n \u201cThen the pandemic came and hit Ecuador severely,\u201d she said. \u201cSince then, this crisis has deepened under the administrations of Lenin Moreno and Guillermo Lasso, leading to substantial migration in recent years.\u201d<\/p>\n The National Institute of Statistics and Censuses in Ecuador (INEC) reports that income poverty \u2014 defined as earnings of less than $89.29 per month \u2014 reached 27 percent in June. Extreme poverty, meanwhile, hit 10.8 percent.<\/p>\n Alvarez also points to the deteriorating security situation in Ecuador as a motivation for leaving.<\/p>\n \u201cIncreasing violence, fuelled by insecurity and drug trafficking, has forced thousands of Ecuadorians to forcibly leave in recent years,\u201d Alvarez said.<\/p>\n Last year was the worst for criminal violence, with 25 homicides per 100,000 people. And in 2023, the situation escalated. The homicide rate in Ecuador is now the fourth highest in Latin America.<\/p>\n Mar\u00eda witnessed many of her neighbours and acquaintances leaving as a result of the violence.<\/p>\n The tipping point for her was when the father of her child passed away during the COVID-19 pandemic. She was alone, racking up debt, and what little she earned was sometimes stolen as the country\u2019s crime rates ticked upwards.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s not just jobs and food that we\u2019re lacking. Ecuador has become extremely dangerous. We now live in constant fear,\u201d Mar\u00eda said.<\/p>\n She left Ecuador in the first week of April, travelling north through the Dari\u00e9n Gap, a dangerous stretch of jungle that connects South America to Central America. For two months, she walked and caught buses, spending $3,000 in expenses for the journey.<\/p>\n Mar\u00eda said arrived in the US three months ago. She and her child now live in Elmhurst, Queens, where she rents a small space in the living room of her cousin\u2019s family for $800 a month.<\/p>\n Back home in Ecuador, Mar\u00eda said selling candy was primarily women\u2019s work. But in New York, she competes with men and even children on the subway platforms, hawking candy she bought at a wholesale store.<\/p>\n The presence of young children has sparked particular concern among the public. Some subway riders have taken to social media to vent their frustration.<\/p>\n \u201cThis is child exploitation and should be banned,\u201d one user on TikTok said. Another called on law enforcement to intervene.<\/p>\n Under New York state law, child labour under age 14 is largely prohibited and can be regarded as abuse. But Alvarez, the anthropologist, said many new arrivals from Ecuador are unaware of the local laws.<\/p>\n \u201cThey are ensnared in a reality where sheer survival is their sole objective. They grapple with traumas and escape from destitute circumstances,\u201d she told Al Jazeera.<\/p>\n Additionally, the Metropolitan Transportation Authority (MTA) prohibits unauthorised commercial activity in the subway. Police can fine the candy sellers $50 if they catch them, so Mar\u00eda is constantly on the lookout for their uniforms.<\/p>\n \u201cWe run away from the police when we see them. A ticket can cost what we earn in a day. Police also tell us that we can lose the custody of our children,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n Gustavo Espinoza, a community organiser, explained to Al Jazeera that there are services and organisations working to educate new immigrants about the resources available to them.<\/p>\n However, those without legal immigration papers are often reluctant to seek assistance due to their fear of deportation, Espinoza said. They \u201clive in constant fear\u201d.<\/p>\n \u201cThere is evidently a barrier,\u201d he explained. \u201cThere are organisations that want to help but they don\u2019t reach the immigrants who need assistance but are afraid to ask or seek help.\u201d<\/p>\n In August, New York City Mayor Eric Adams estimated the city could end up paying up to $12bn to support migrants over the next three years.<\/p>\n In its $107bn budget for 2024, the city council approved $16m for Promise NYC, a programme that offers stipends for childcare to low-income parents, including undocumented ones.<\/p>\n But advocates say those efforts are not enough to help migrants and asylum seekers like Mar\u00eda, who rarely goes anywhere without her child.<\/p>\n Some are pushing for the New York State Senate to pass a 2023 bill that would offer universal childcare to all parents, regardless of immigration status. But that legislation is still pending.<\/p>\n For Mar\u00eda and others, though, there seems to be no alternative but to carry on with their daily routines, children in tow.<\/p>\n Mar\u00eda\u2019s daughter rides on her back throughout the day: She only ever sets the two-year-old down briefly, keeping a watchful eye on the child. On top of her cargo of candy to sell, Mar\u00eda carries around cookies and a bottle of milk to feed her child, who often dozes as her mother works.<\/p>\n \u201cI can\u2019t leave my daughter alone at home. Nobody will care for her,\u201d Mar\u00eda said.<\/p>\n Life, at least for the time being, means balancing both childcare and selling candy in the subway: \u201cThere\u2019s no other option.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div>\n \u0627\u0644\u0645\u0635\u062f\u0631<\/a>A \u2018third wave\u2019 of Ecuadorian migration<\/h2>\n
Risks to selling candy<\/h2>\n
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