The Border and Beyond
Asian Migrants Head to Queens, NY
Main Street in Flushing and 73rd Avenue in Jackson Heights – two streets in Queens, New York – have become top destinations for Asian migrants seeking a new life in America. Between the shadows of food carts and subway stations in these ethnic enclaves, migrants from Bangladesh and China build new chapters in their lives, reaching out to the established residents for jobs, shelter and community.
NEW YORK, N.Y. — It was past midnight on a hot July evening – four Bangladeshi men in their 20’s meetup for an “adda” – a desi word referring to hanging out with friends. Under the moonlight with various orders of fuchka, chaat and chai, the group of friends sit on plastic stools in a dark corner on a sidewalk in Jackson Heights, Queens, recounting their journey to New York, up to and through the U.S. southern border.
“If I truly knew how dangerous coming to America was, I don’t think I would have embarked on this journey,” said one of the friends, adding he still has nightmares from the experience.
While Indians are the third largest community of undocumented immigrants in the United States, South Asian migrants from all across the subcontinent are growing in numbers on the southern border. The route to western countries like the U.K., Canada and United States that many South Asians take is known as Dunki, a Punjabi codeword referring to an informal route. The route can entail many different countries and pathways – some leaving South Asia by land through neighboring countries like Afghanistan and Iran, while others fly to countries like the U.A.E. and Turkey to begin their journeys west, according to interviews with more than a dozen South Asian migrants and two immigration attorneys.
After reaching the first country in the Dunki chain, migrants continue their journey through various modes of transportation and coordination by human smugglers – entirely dependent on their final destination. For migrants entering through the southern border, most have to cross through a sequence of Latin American countries before they are anywhere near the U.S. That route includes the infamous Darien Gap which connects Panama and Colombia, essentially serving as a land bridge between North and South America. With tricky terrain and heavy rainfall, the path stretches through nearly 70 miles of jungle and rivers, with thousands of migrants hiking up north. Considered unnavigable a few decades ago, the Darien Gap had over half a million migrant crossers in 2023. Many of these migrants fall victim to sexual violence, robbery and even death.
The route is not new, though it has gained recent popularity after being featured in the Hindi film, also titled Dunki, starring Bollywood superstar Shah Rukh Khan and directed by Rajkumar Hirani. Many South Asian migrants have been influenced to take the Dunki route after they watched the film.
At the San Diego and Tijuana border in May, a 19-year-old boy from Haryana, India, shared that he left his home three days after watching the film. He now lives in Indianapolis with a group of other migrants he met on his journey to the U.S., and is waiting for his work permit. The journey cost his family $60,000. He said while the film did not even scratch the surface of the reality of the Dunki route, many of the scenes depicting unsanitary conditions, assault, human remains and violent law enforcement accurately reflect what migrants experience on this journey.
While records show Bangladeshi immigration to the United States as early as the late 19th century, Bangladeshis are now a part of the growing number of undocumented migrants entering the U.S. Studies show that there are 150,000 undocumented Bangladeshis nationwide, with over 50,000 in New York City alone.
Back in Jackson Heights, with a cigarette in one hand, one of the four friends said he first went to Brazil after leaving Dhaka — one of the most popular countries for Bangladeshi migrants trying to reach the United States. In Brazil, oftentimes Bangladeshis ask for asylum before starting for the U.S. Brazil also has easier visa requirements than other countries, for Bangladeshi nationals to enter. In cities like Sao Paulo and Rio, Bangladeshi Brazilians, fluent in Spanish, work with cartels, coordinating with smugglers across Latin America, including those in Colombia, Panama, Guatemala, Mexico and more in between.
Bangladesh
Brazil
U.S. - Mexico Border
The majority of this friend group – who asked not to be identified given their immigration status -- is from the Noakhali region, a city in southern Bangladesh near the Bay of Bengal. For many hailing from rural parts of the city or nearby villages, the cost of this route can be expensive, costing $40,000 to $50,000 U.S. dollars plus interest, a price they cannot afford themselves.
Borrowing the amount from local loan sharks, they leave a family member liable for the amount and promise to pay back the balance through work in America – something that can take several years. Since the migrants themselves aren’t in Bangladesh, leaving someone liable is a way moneylenders hold power over vulnerable Bangladeshis. If the migrant does not send money back for the family member to pay, the person can be harmed or killed.
Each of the friends join in the conversation when asked why they wanted to come to America. One said he took the journey because he sees no future for himself in Bangladesh, while another said it’s for political reasons. “I just wanted to come to America,” another joked, later backing that up by saying he wants to pursue higher education.
Working odd jobs handing out flyers, washing dishes and bussing tables at local Bangladeshi restaurants, the friends all share an apartment in Jackson Heights with three other migrants from Bangladesh. Though they are paid less than minimum wage and work 15 hour shifts, six days a week – they said that this is a better reality than getting nothing in Bangladesh.
One of the four friends mentioned that with the wages he is currently earning, he believes it’ll take four years of non-stop work to pay off the loan for his migration. “If I do not pay back the loans my father took for me, what kind of son am I,” he said, frustrated. “I have to repay every penny back and more.”
While New York City continues to serve as a beacon of immigration in the United States, Asian migration to the U.S. has a long and complicated history. The city has long been a destination for Bangladeshis regardless of immigration status, making it home to the largest community of Bangladeshi’s outside of Bangladesh. Around the late 1800’s, Bengali seamen and peddlers would jump ship in American harbors and assimilate into established communities of color including neighborhoods such as Harlem – often marrying Black or Puerto Rican women.
The Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882 stopped arrivals from Asia and later, the Immigration Act of 1917 prohibited immigration from South Asia – it would not be until President Lyndon B. Johnson’s Immigration Act of 1965 that immigration for Asians eased up. Yet, Asians under exile persevered and created entire livelihoods in America.
Next to Jackson Heights sits Flushing – home to the largest Chinese immigrant community in the city, as well as migrants from various other countries. On the street, migrants from Chad sell refurbished Apple products, while nearby Venezuelan migrants sell tomatoes on the corner near the subway station. Red and yellow signs advertising fresh roasted chicken and hot spicy pot stand tall while street vendors sell counterfeit designer bags. A few streets away is a house for Chinese migrants, many of whom also happen to be Muslim.
A 38-year-old woman and her 10-year-old son just arrived at LaGuardia Airport, where they were picked by a volunteer from the house. The woman goes by her new chosen Muslim name – Salima, which means peace in Arabic. Salima asked not to be identified by her last name. She is a Hui Muslim who recently crossed through the U.S. southern border after escaping China at the end of spring.
The first time she thought of leaving China was in January, after facing severe religious persecution and questioning by the local police about her faith. She was stopped by the police after attending an Islamic workshop created for Hui Muslims to better understand their religion, a necessity since they aren’t allowed to openly practice. “Although I am a Hui and I believe in Islam, I know nothing about Islam, and I have to survive,” said Salima, teary-eyed.
She was detained by police for 15 days — extended to 30 days after the police saw that she would not give up her faith. “The police probably felt that although I knew nothing about Islam, I was still very much attracted to Islam – they could tell from my conversation that I didn't bow to them,” said Salima, through a translator. In detention, she was offered one meal daily, which was not halal and oftentimes included pork.
During the detention, her son was forced to read and recite the core values of the Chinese Communist Party while she was put in a room where she was tortured with bright, hot lights from 7 p.m. until 8 a.m. “I had to copy some of the Communist Party's theories during the day, and I also had to write some self-criticism,” said Salima. She was also forced to study up on Chinese Communist Party leader Xi Jinping, read books by Communist leaders including Marx and Lenin, and write reflection papers about why she was studying Islam.
As a single mother, she brought her ten year old son to the workshop. In school, her son shared with his teacher that he was attending Islamic lessons which later led to the teacher telling the police. He was bullied by his peers and labeled a terrorist.
The police told Salima her “thoughts have been poisoned by the extreme ideas of Islam” by following her faith, she said. She would have to give the officers her phone daily to check. The harassment and torture became so much, she even considered taking her own life.
After seeing no hope, a friend reached out and told her to use a VPN connection to use YouTube and social media to find out about a way out of the country. With the help of friends and family, Salima left China at the end of March.
She and her son traveled through Thailand, Egypt, Ecuador, Colombia, through the Darien Gap and then all the way through Central America and Mexico to San Diego. “I walked with my child for three days… It was raining heavily and the road was very narrow and difficult to walk on,” she recalled about the Darien Gap. “There were many South American migrants and Indians on the road who all helped me, there were also many Iranians and Russians. They also helped me a lot. Finally, we walked out of the rainforest and we started to walk to Panama and Guatemala.”
She reached Mexico in the middle of May, but stayed through the end of July. Her journey was interrupted by President Joe Biden’s executive order in early June which tightened U.S. border security. “I was stranded in Mexico for two months. I arrived in Mexico on May 18, and then I was stranded until the end of July,” she said.
Realizing she was out of money, she didn’t wait for someone to help her cross the border — instead, she and her son crossed the border in Tijuana themselves, “with the grace of Allah,” she said. They crawled through several mountains in the dead of night, something she remembers as more difficult than the Darien Gap.
“The climb over the border was more difficult than the three days in the Darien Gap because we were crossing in the middle of the night… We set off at 10 o'clock and climbed six or seven mountains,” said Salima. “Basically, we were crawling up the steep mountain and border with our hands and feet.”
She said she didn’t cry one bit throughout her journey, until she saw route 94 — a highway in Southern California. She was then detained by border patrol in Jacumba and later released to begin her asylum seeking application.
Salima said she wanted to seek refuge where there are many other Muslims, so she used ChatGPT to find her answer — New York City.
She found the home in Flushing through a group chat with other migrants. “I felt that I was no longer afraid, confused and anxious. I was very happy, I felt that I had someone to rely on,” said Salima. The entire journey cost her around $18,000 USD.
She came to the U.S.in pursuit of religious freedom and now wishes to settle in New York and ensure her son is put into a good school.
“I came to the United States because I wanted to seek religious asylum, because I was persecuted in China and I didn't know how long they would continue to torture me,” Salima said. “I'm not like other Chinese migrants who come here just to earn money.”
Salima’s arrival in Flushing almost feels poetic, especially as the neighborhood was at the forefront for religious freedom in America – starting with the Quakers in the 1650’s. Originally a Dutch colony in New Amsterdam, later New York City, the residents of Flushing organized a petition demanding religious freedom known as the Flushing Remonstrance – stating that any violation upon any religion will not be tolerated by the community. The petition is considered as a predecessor to the U.S. Constitution’s first amendment on freedom of religion in the Bill of Rights.
There are over 1.4 million New Yorkers of Asian descent in the city, according to a report by the city. 52% of Asian New Yorkers live in Queens, while 13% of Asian immigrants in the city are undocumented. Despite a growing community, the diversity of Asian New Yorkers also presents significant challenges including language barriers and financial insecurity.
Over half of Bangladeshi and Chinese immigrants in New York have limited English proficiency and 25% of Asian New Yorkers have less than a high school education. Despite these challenges, immigration to America has not slowed down. “America, for a long time, has been that kind of beacon of opportunity since like the Gold Rush, especially for Chinese – the draw made people want to leave their situation and come,” said Herb Tam, director of exhibitions at Museum of Chinese in America. “They thought that the streets were lined with gold, these factors pushing people away from China.”
In the early dawn back in Jackson Heights, the group of friends still consider themselves lucky to have a chance at their own American Dream.
“No one ever wants to leave the comfort of their real home, but I wish people would understand how dire the situation is for people like us across the world,” says the youngest of the friends, 24, remembering the mutton biryani his mother would make every Friday. “We just want the opportunity to make a life for ourselves.” He treats himself every Friday after getting paid with an order of mutton biryani from Premium Sweets on 73rd, something that reminds him of his motherland.
“I feel lucky to make it here because New York still makes me feel like I’m in Bangladesh,” he said. “It's the best of both worlds.”
