Restaurant owners and workers, Manik, Johnny, Moban, and Shaan, use tight-knit communities of friends and savings clubs to manage financial struggles.
Images of French fries, burgers, and chickens decorate the outsides of restaurants along Avenue Amazonas in Quito. But at one shop, a green and red flag hangs over the images of French fries – the Bangladeshi flag. We approached four men in the shop – Manik, Johnny, Moban, and Shaan – who were sitting around a table. As we began to chat with them and explain our research, they were quick to mention that they were from Bangladesh. Two of them stood up, “please, please come sit” they asked. It was the first time that we had come across anyone from Bangladesh in Quito, so we slid into a red booth and began to listen. In a mix of Spanish, English, and Bangla, the four men spoke over each other to explain their journeys to Quito.
“There are only about 25 Bangladeshis living in Quito,” they told us. “And we are all countrymen from the same region. We are not all actual family, but we are all family at heart.”
We asked questions to the group as a whole. “When did you come to Quito?” Moban, dressed in a blue collared shirt and a well-trimmed beard, and Johnny, with shaggy black hair, had come to Ecuador just six months ago. Shaan, in a red striped sweater buttoned up to his neck, came seven years ago. And Manik, who was working behind the counter, arrived ten years ago.
“We came here because of the social problems between the political parties. The president is the problem. Everything was calm and good, and there was food and money – it is just a political problem. We all get along well, but we all came from different political parties in Bangladesh.” Johnny and Moban support the Bangladesh National Party, Moban supports the Awami League, and Manik backs the Jatiya Party. “We are frustrated that the country has gone fifteen years without a change of president.”
“In Bangladesh, money was not a problem for us,” they said. “One person working in a family could pay for seven people. The young care for the old, and family is very important and very strong in Bangladesh.”
“It’s very difficult to travel here,” they explained, looking at each other and nodding in agreement. Each of them decided to come to Ecuador because they knew someone who had immigrated there earlier. But even though their social connections made the transition easier, their journeys were not cheap. Due to bureaucratic barriers, the process of migrating to Ecuador from Bangladesh is incredibly complicated. All four needed to get their documents to travel to Ecuador from an Indian Embassy. And since there is no Indian embassy in Bangladesh, they first had to fly to Istanbul. “I traveled from Bangladesh to Delhi to Istanbul to Brazil, and then to Quito,” Shaan said. Moban jumped in: “I traveled from Bangladesh to Delhi to Istanbul to Bolivia, and then to Quito.” All four ended up paying astronomically high smugglers’ fees (which cost between $14,000 and $20,000 per person) and airfare (which cost around $2,000 per person).
“We knew we would work in the restaurants that were owned by our countrymen. For me, my uncle owned a restaurant in Quito, so I knew I would work there,” Moban said. “All the Bangladeshis know each other here. All of them either work in a restaurant or sell goods on the street that were made in Bangladesh.” Shaan pulled at the collar of his shirt, pointing at the tag. “See? Made in Bangladesh.”
“You can recognize the Bangladeshi restaurants by the flags on the awnings,” they told us. “There are around six or eight Bangladeshi restaurants in Quito. They don’t usually sell Bangladeshi food, but when we see the flag we know where our countrymen are.”
“Our restaurant is newer,” Shaan said. “It’s been open just a few years, and we make less money here than at the restaurants that have been here for longer.” Johnny earns about $75–$80 per week and works a thirteen-hour day from 11:00 am–12:00 am (earning roughly $1/hour). “Our restaurant makes around $400 to $500 a month of profit, but the Bangladeshi restaurants that have been here for longer make more like $800 to $1,000 a month of profit.”
“Since we work so much and eat two meals every day at the restaurant, we don’t have to spend a lot of money on our own food,” Johnny added. “But if we have a problem, we just write a letter to the ‘Bangladeshi Club.’”
Moban interrupted to explain. “Every Sunday, there is a meeting at one of the Bangladeshi restaurants in town, and almost all of the 25 Bangladeshis come to all the meetings. The restaurant hosting the meeting prepares food for everyone and at each meeting everyone that comes contributes $5. If one person has a problem – like if they are sick or can’t pay their rent – they write a formal letter to the group about the problem.”
“Sultan is the leader. He and Manik are the only two people that control the bank account and can get the money out. Sultan usually approves the letters, and then the one who wrote the letter will be given the money they need. They don’t need to pay back their money all at once, but as long as they continue to put in their weekly $5, they will eventually repay what they borrow.”
As the four talked over each other in a Spanish-English-Bangla mix to explain the process, Shaan pulled out his phone and showed us the group’s WhatsApp chat. He brought up a photo of the last Bangladeshi Club meeting at a restaurant down the street. “We always plan our meetings through WhatsApp, just like we talk with our families in Bangladesh through WhatsApp. We also talk with our families on Facebook Messenger, but we don’t use Facebook Messenger with the club. In the meetings, we speak in Bangla. But on WhatsApp, we usually send messages in Spanish.”
“We also help each other out with money outside of the Club,” Moban said. “The rent per person is about $70 to $80 because we usually will rent just one bedroom and bathroom in a larger apartment occupied by other Bangladeshis.”
“No, I don’t do that,” Shaan exclaimed. “I share an apartment with my wife. We split the cost of $230 per month. And she is Ecuadorian. But because I work so many hours, I only get to see her on the weekends. But rent is cheap, and food is cheap, so I send $300 back to my family in Bangladesh each month. I have a big family, so this helps them, and then I have $100 extra for myself for the month.”
“I don’t need to send money to my family, because they have a lot of money. The only person I have to support is my wife,” Moban chimed in. “So, I just send her $100 here and there when she needs it. I mostly save all the money I make. I’m very happy because she will move to Quito in four to six months and my family will help her pay for her flight.” All four use Western Union to send remittances back to Bangladesh.
“When we came, we did not know any Spanish,” Moban said. He pulled out his phone, “We learned from our friends, but also from Google Translate.” He opened the app and said something in Bangla into the phone’s microphone. On the screen, the message “how are you” appeared in English. “See? It’s very easy,” he said.
The four expressed how much they like living in Quito. “In Ecuador, it is very calm. There is no racism and no problems, especially no problems with politics. Rent is cheap, food is cheap, and it’s easy to get documents.” The only problems, they claim, are the Venezuelans and Colombians. “They are the ones to cause crime and problems on the street, but there is no problem with the Ecuadorians. But the Bangladeshi community doesn’t cause problems. Here, we respect the law and the people because it’s not our country.”