07/2025: Who is doing the work?

Image © Jose 2025

When you travel, it’s easy to get caught up in the sights—the architecture, the food, the energy of a new place. But behind that curated version of every major city is another reality, one built, maintained, and operated by people who, more often than not, weren’t born there.

In Paris, your hotel bed might be made by a Portuguese housekeeper, your breakfast prepared by a Moroccan or Algerian chef, and your taxi driven by someone from Senegal or Mali. The city’s grand restorations, from Haussmannian façades to modern developments, are often in the hands of Portuguese, Romanian, or Polish construction crews.

London tells a similar story. The cleaning staff in the five-star hotels? Polish and Romanian. The chefs behind the city’s diverse food scene? Indian, Pakistani, and Bangladeshi. Minicabs and rideshares? Bangladeshi and Nigerian drivers. And the towering glass developments reshaping the city? Largely built by Romanian, Lithuanian, and Polish laborers.

Cross the Atlantic, and the pattern holds. Over 60% of New York City’s construction workers are immigrants, with Mexicans, Ecuadorians, and Dominicans dominating the workforce. The restaurant industry is no different—22% of U.S. food service workers are immigrants, from Michelin-starred chefs to bodega workers handing you a bacon, egg, and cheese at 5 a.m. And when you hail a yellow cab, chances are your driver is Bangladeshi or Pakistani, part of the 90%+ immigrant taxi workforce.

In Chicago, Mexican and Central American workers handle much of the city’s construction, while Polish, Serbian, and Ukrainian drivers navigate the streets. And in Boston, the faces change, but the story remains. Whether it’s luxury condos in the Seaport, biotech labs in Kendall Square, or brownstone renovations in Back Bay, Brazilians, Salvadorans, and Haitians are doing the work, from demolition to finish carpentry. Over 30% of Boston’s construction workers are foreign-born, and in some neighborhoods, that number is far higher. The hospitality sector is no different—many housekeepers in Back Bay’s hotels are Brazilian or Dominican, and your cab from Logan? Likely driven by a Haitian.

And then there’s Portugal, a country long known for sending workers abroad, experiencing the other side of migration. Brazilians have arrived in waves, each tied to the political and economic shifts back home. They power Portugal’s restaurants, senior care, construction, and domestic work, filling roles that younger Portuguese have moved away from. With nearly 23% of Portugal’s population over 65, Brazilian caregivers have become essential, providing daily support in nursing homes and private homes alike. Despite occasional resentment from a small segment of the population, they have integrated into Portuguese society, leaving their mark on language, music, and business.

I’m not saying this reality is all roses—there are tensions, there are challenges. But it’s the truth.

And now, as I renovate the house in Boston, I see this story play out firsthand. My master contractor is a third-generation local, deeply rooted in this town, but from day one, he’s praised his Brazilian crew. Since then, I’ve met them all—the demolition guys, the electrician, the plumber, and their teams. Some don’t speak much English, which makes me grateful we share the same language.

At the end of all this, I’ll remember who did the work.