African ‘manteros’ in Barcelona
For a certain set of African men who travel to Europe in search of a better future, travel does not mean luggage and a two-hour flight but rather a small backpack and multiple hours on a rubber dinghy or canoe. They travel very light, carrying whatever other clothes they own only to spend day and night hustling, carrying one or two very heavy bags where they keep their merchandise. These big ‘bags’ are actually large blankets which in Spanish translates to manta, hence their nicknames: manteros. These blankets have one string at each corner to be able to pick up everything and run from the police in a matter of seconds.
Since the first time I saw the manteros, maybe 6 or 7 years ago, I always asked myself what their lives could be like and if selling fake bags was enough to live. The answer is not really, but it's the best choice they have. I met Ambar and Jorome on two different days in Barcelona, Spain. I found out later that they coincidentally knew each other. Jorome showed me a picture he had in his wallet with some friends, one of them was Ambar. Ambar is from Senegal and left his country 6 years ago, when he was 29. He came to Spain directly from Senegal and started as a street vendor in Marbella, Valencia and Madrid before coming to Barcelona. Back in Senegal, he used to work many jobs including cleaning cars, waiting tables and picking up trash. Jorome is from Algeria. He spent 5 years in Italy and has been 4 years in Spain. He is now 30. He went to prison twice while in Rome and ran to Spain as soon as he heard Spanish officers were “less bad”, as he put it. He had a stable job in Algeria as a taxi driver, but earned barely enough for food.
They told me they learned English while selling and moving from one place to another, basically without much choice. They have a good base in Spanish too. Each arrived to Spain and Italy in life rafts with a small sized duffel bag. Jorome only let me take his picture from far away, and Ambar did not want his picture taken. They were scared as to who might see them and in the worst case, catch them - again.
Jorome, with the red and black shirt. Image Credit: Ana Póo-Baiz
Ambar sells fake brands of sunglasses and sneakers, ranging from Converse, Adidas and Michael Kors to Gucci and Louis Vuitton, near the Port Vell and Las Ramblas. Jorome sold similar brands in Las Ramblas but of big and small bags including purses and backpacks. We made a deal that if I bought two pieces with 20% off each, then they would be willing to speak with me about their life story and their daily challenges. I could have bargained my way to 70% off or even more, however I was more intrigued to know about them and make them want to have a conversation with me too. They can't bring all of their merchandise each day because their bodies would fall into pieces, their knees would weaken and the sweat from their bodies and hands would make the products slip away.
Back pain is definitely the first symptom felt. In addition to that comes sweat, tiredness, lack of sleep, muscle ache, and rashes at some parts of the body due to constant use of the same clothes for two weeks a time. Living three to four people per room and taking the metro at 5 a.m., working until 11 p.m. or midnight, and going back home (which is of course not in the center) is not the life an immigrant expects when planning to leave their country. To what extent has immigrating, in this case to Spain, improved their lives and lifestyle enough to differ from the way they lived back home? Ambar’s simple answer was: “barely, if it all.” Moving to our imagined and desired country can only lead to one reality: it will always stay in our imagination. These men aim for a life without risk, without stress, without danger, or at least less than the one they had in Africa. Jorome told me:
“I wanted better life but here in Barcelona is same, my brother in Marbella has same risk and same worry. We are not trusted, not by French, not by Italy and not by Spanish. Police are after us everyday. We sell things to make money we do not steal. You tell me, how can I steal with big heavy bags on my shoulders? (laughs)”
Manteros grabbing the ropes, ready to leave any minute. Image Credit: Ana Póo-Baiz
The merchandise isn’t the only heavy thing they carry. They also carry the burden of having to run away each time a police officer is near. They carry the insecurity of being seen in a way that they are not. Locals and some tourists often think that they will steal from them, harm them, or insult them. They argue non-stop about how manteros have invaded their city, their space and are mean to them at times. I asked Ambar why people say they are ‘mean’. He answered:
“We are not mean to them, they are mean to us. We try to sell all day, we leave and still try to sell in metro and train, we do not have money for food or clothes, sell one bag: you have some food. People are racist with us that is why they see us as mean. They think we are desperate to steal and do pickpocket.”
Ambar’s explanation made me question: is it really all about racism, or just money? Why does the government complain more about these African men than they do about tourists? Tourists occupy much more space, however tourists give the city money for attractions, historical and cultural monuments and activities; could this be the cause of their biased complaints?
Other locals get mad because they claim that manteros are an unfair competition to store owners, manufacturers and people who make artisanal work. They say that tourists will always prefer ‘luxury’ brands, even if they are fake, instead of a good quality handmade product. The biggest issue with manteros is that they are illegally in these countries, yet have those filing complaints ever stopped to think that street vendors need money to have an address and a phone number to gain work permits? While it is true that they are undocumented immigrants from Africa, Spain says they are open to receiving foreigners anytime since they often help to fill job offers that natives don’t want. They accuse these African men for not having a legal work permit and at the same time, they don’t provide help for them to gain one. Africans suffer to arrive at a place where no one is waiting for them.
Manteros are surviving from city to city hoping,like any person with basic needs, to be able to one day have a roof over their head and some food, but they are not welcome in any country. They had to survive in their countries and now they have to survive in new countries too. Exhaust, stress and sleep deprivation were the three factors that made Ambar have a heart attack a few months back, at age 34. He questioned whether to continue, and realized he couldn’t stop until he could settle.
How can they ever have a stable life if they are constantly running away?
