c) Economic impacts Stateless persons and Haitian migrants were already in a precarious economic situation prior to the pandemic. The lockdown and curfew measures have impacted their livelihoods in a number of ways. For many months less work has been available (carpentry, construction, transportation service, domestic work). Even those in informal work, such as itinerant sales (lottery tickets, food), are not able to circulate as freely or make a living because there is less money circulating in the community. Those working in domestic work were sent home temporarily without necessarily receiving compensation, a common practice in an informalized sector with predominantly verbal contracts. Other people continued working and, although they had protective equipment, some were exposed to contagion in their workplace. Salaries have been cut for some working in agriculture and selling lottery tickets, though they are expected to work the same number of hours as before the pandemic. As a result, many families unable to buy basic provisions. At the end of 2020, the monthly cost of a basic national food basket was 36,936.17 Dominican pesos, according to the Central Bank. As Pierre, a 34-year-old Haitian migrant registered in the PNRE, puts it when responding about the impact of COVID-19: “You struggle to work and buy food. Now everything is expensive and there is almost no work.” Movement restrictions have had more severe impacts on the economic rights of stateless persons and migrants in an irregular situation, because of the effects on their livelihoods. Several male participants work in the sugar industry and are employed by the Central Sugar Consortium. The beginnings of the pandemic in the country overlapped with the so-called “dead time” at the end of the harvest, which is when workers are forced to seek another means of livelihood or sometimes return to Haiti if they are “Congos” (that is, newcomer migrants who are not as established in country). All of the interviews were completed in October before the beginning of the following harvest at the end of 2020. Alberto, a Dominican of Haitian descent who registered as part of Group B under Law 169-14, explained the following: “No. That crop has a season. They cut [the sugarcane] until they reach that time and then they stop. They didn’t stop it [operations] because of COVID, they stopped because they reached the goal they had to reach. Because the others keep working.” Another worker, Roberto, who is also a Dominican of Haitian descent who registered as part of Group B under Law 169-14, agreed: “Right now I’m not working because it’s seasonal. I go back on November 28 for the harvest. But they did give us protective equipment: gloves, mask, glasses and boots … It was almost the harvest by the time COVID was declared and we ended the harvest in May. We finished it well. None of us got sick, we always kept our distance.” Interviewees’ experiences underscore the relatively low activity in the construction industry, and increasing reliance on subsistence agriculture. Jean, a 48-year-old Haitian migrant registered in the PNRE, tells us: “I work in construction, but right now things are a bit hard. You know I’m getting old and I suffer from sugar too [diabetes] so I have not been able to do it ... Well, when they let me use the ‘conuquito’13 I sow [some crops].” Participants’ experiences also reveal an inability to advance on the job due to documentation issues, which were exacerbated in part by the pandemic. Pablo, a 20-year-old Dominican man of Haitian descent who registered as part of Group B under Law 169-14 but has yet to receive naturalization, stated that he is stuck workwise. He currently lives off “conuquismo” [subsistence farming], but aspires to be a “sanatero” [sanitation technician] with the Central Sugar Consortium (CAC, in Spanish), with an eye towards being promoted to the position of monitor. He explains that they are using the PNRE card to allow him to work in the Consortium as a sanatero worker. However, it leaves no room for advancement, as demonstrated in his explanation of what a sanatero does: “Picking up pieces of cane left on the ground after the tractor passes and throwing them onto the tractor. But if I had an ID, they would have me work as a monitor ... The monitor takes care of the ‘picadores’ [cutters] who are cutting the sugarcane. The ‘picadores’ have foot protectors because when they are In the DR, it is a small plot of land dedicated to crops, mostly for subsistence. 13. 22 Research Brief: COVID-19 Impacts on Haitian Migrants and their Descendants on the Southern Border of the D.R.