Mashud of Venice: From Street Salesman to Hotel Operative

In a recent trip through Italy with two dear friends, Adriana Urdaneta and Pedro Sanchez de Lozada, I was exposed to new feelings, experiences, the practical use of a language I had been learning for years, beautiful sights… and a new perspective on migrant economics.

David Akinin, Adriana Urdaneta and Pedro Sanchez de Lozada

See, I finally put all inhibitions aside and decided to use my “Economist” card in approaching a sect of salesmen that took over Piazza San Marco in Venezia, Italia. This post will aim to summarize our conversation and give you a better idea of who they are, how they live and the numbers behind their operations.

Our trip started in Rome, where diversity and tourism take over much of the local culture. The sights are still there, and Italian is still the official language; but if you speak Arabic, Bangladeshi, Hindi, or English for that matter, you are guaranteed to get by.

In Rome, the streets and corners, plazas and lawns, were populated usually by 6 to 10 salesmen of the same culture selling tchotchkes: posters, funny balls, light-copters… you name it. They would walk up to people and offer their product, and after rejecting the 2nd or 3rd of their men, they would leave you alone. At the time, I kept these insights to myself, though I’m sure those with whom I travelled were as aware as I was of the process.

Ponte Vecchio in Florence

As the trip continued, my interest in their business model grew. Upon our arrival in Florence, I experienced the same phenomenon. All around the Duomo (central Firenze), a group of 20 Arabic-speaking North Africans walked around offering their posters. Each of them carried ~6 in a cardboard folder which they would open when a tourist walked by, repeating phrases like “very cheap posters. How much?” “You like a poster. Good price” and “I give you one for 5 euros”.

View of Salesman from Duomo

Now, that last phrase is the one that triggered my curiosity most and made me wonder how these people made a life. I immediately needed to share my thoughts with my friends to get feedback about the process.

Here are some of my observations:

-These salespeople are all men, and immigrants.

-Their mastering of the Italian language is very basic.

-They charge 5 euros for their product.

-They all sell the same product.

-They all dress very well: top-brand shoes, jeans and jackets.

-They barely sell; I studied the salesmen for an hour and they did not sell.

All of this brought me to a few conclusions that I must admit others did not accept. I thought they made up some sort of organized cartel of illegal immigrants involved in the sale of other products, like drugs. If that was not the case, at least, I was sure they’d need an additional source of capital in order to live in such places and wear such clothes.

Here’s where “Mashud of Venice” comes in to the story.

Adriana left us before departing Florence, so Venice was going to be a trip between “the bros”. The thing is that Venice is a romantic, calm city, and if you’re traveling with a “bro”, you’ll spend a good amount of time drinking, getting to know each other and walking around pondering about life. I must say we even wrote a business plan for a venture we’d been thinking about for almost 6 months, since we had never had the spare time to crack into the details.

@ Piazza San Marco

We found ourselves sitting in Piazza San Marco, surrounded by 10 other couples spread out enjoying a snack or the evening stars. In a quick glimpse, I’d say around 20 Bangladeshi salesmen were playing with their flying helicopters that lite up, as they twirled down back onto their hands. Their strategy was to propel their toys up into the air, and have them fall in front of a passer-by to then conduct their pitch.

Their Italian and English were so-so, and got better the more veteran they were in the business. Regardless, they would be straight to the point; immediately after catching the toy from its latest flight, they would extend their hand towards you offering it, with a big smile, saying something like “very cheap, try it, try it”. One could negotiate, and the prices ranged anywhere between 2 and 5 euros.

I spoke with Mashud. He migrated from Bangladesh like most of his peers, and was excited to tell me about the business. These men, on a great-day-scenario make 30-40 Euro. Every 500 Euro in savings, they make a transfer of that amount home, and surprisingly only pay a 5 Euro fee (which tells me that American remittances market is overcharging). When I said how do you live, do you sell other things? Jokingly, I mentioned drugs, to what Mashud answered “No, No..”, but his peer, who had recently come to Italy (barely 10 days) said “Yes, Yes…”.

It’s tough to migrate. Mashud came on a 1,000 Euro flight, and wasn’t content making 10 or 15 Euro on a day scavenging around for a buyer. He moved up and made relations outside of his circle of salesmen. He secured a job at a hotel, servicing it, making more money than before, and the security to move forth in life.

It is tough to make a living in a new place, but the need of those that depend on you and are left behind in your home-country, propels a new side of our economy, that in the end only stimulates growth outside of the place of commerce. Next time you travel, think of Mashud and his peers. Take a minute to ponder on how they make a living, and impact the local and home economies.