“I just want to work.” Google Translate pronounces the words with a lot less fervor than Dmytri Lvov (42) just did, but it’s clear the Ukrainian means business. Less than a month ago, he and his wife Martha left Lviv. They thought they could end the war there, in their apartment on the ninth floor. But then there were the shattered windows, the shards. And now they are sitting here: in a small hall of a Reformed church in Utrecht, at a meeting that ‘should bring the labor market to the Ukrainians’.
And they are not alone. At the u-shaped tables ten more women are bent over a white A4 sheet that should be called their CV. On this, the Ukrainians write down what they did in their home country and what kind of work they want to do in the Netherlands. Smartphones are diligently searching for translations for ‘lawyer’, ‘financial director’ and ‘making hair accessories from beads’. Geraldine van Bloemendaal of the cooperation organization Midden-Utrecht Werken Door, a UWV employee and two employees of the employment agency are tasked with matching all that potential to an employer.
This is not without success: according to Van Bloemendaal, at least sixty Ukrainians found work. The national figures are equally encouraging. Since Ukrainians gained access to the Dutch labor market in April, 24 thousand of the approximately 69 thousand registered refugees have found a job, with or without the help of the municipality or their host families. According to figures from the UWV, they mainly ended up in the hospitality industry, agriculture and horticulture and business services.
Labor Barriers
The high employment rate of Ukrainians stands in stark contrast to that of other refugee groups, says researcher Jaco Dagevos of the Social and Cultural Planning Bureau. This is the result of the labor restrictions that apply to those other refugees: pending their status, they are not allowed to work at all for the first six months of their stay. After that, you may do so for a maximum of 24 weeks with a work permit. For example, of the Syrians who came to the Netherlands in 2014, only 7 percent worked after two years.
Ukrainians are exempted from those restrictions on the basis of a temporary directive from the European Union, because it concerns ‘reception in the region’. According to Dagevos, also endowed professor of integration and migration, the expectation is that they will return once the war is over (an expectation that he dares to dispute based on the arrival of earlier refugee groups). “Ukrainians are such an interesting test to see what happens when the barriers to work are lifted,” he says. “Then it can go really fast.”
So when a Ukrainian jewelry designer asks Van Bloemendaal how likely it is that she will find work through this process, she can confidently say that it is very likely is. The job market is very bad at the moment tight’, she explains. As a result, employers are less picky. ‘Where applicants first had to meet four of the four requirements, two are now often enough. In the catering industry, for example, command of the language was a hard requirement, now Ukrainians can help with serving while Dutch colleagues take orders.’
Yet Van Bloemendaal is also realistic: finding a job at their own level is a bigger challenge. If refugees only speak their mother tongue, they can often only enter ‘low-threshold’ jobs. And if highly educated Ukrainians have succeeded in taking diplomas from home during their flight, it remains to be seen whether these are recognized in the Netherlands. The paper CVs that are now being filled are therefore mainly memories of what once was and dreams of what could be again.
Skills
Psychologist Anna Yakovenko (37) also notices this. Since her arrival in the Netherlands, she has sent at least fifty letters to mental health institutions. She received the same response from all of them: because she does not have a Dutch BIG registration, she is not allowed to work as a psychologist. ‘I am very grateful to the Netherlands for all the help’, she says almost obligately, ‘but I want to work. I want to use my hands and my head, and I need the money.” Now her hopes are pinned on the employee of the employment agency PDZ.
She looks again concentrated at her A4 sheet. “Maybe we can find another job where your skills will come in handy,” he suggests. ‘For example, I know of a fruit and vegetable company where many Poles and Ukrainians work, they are still looking for an assistant for the health and safety service. You can start there in a few weeks.’ There is also a faster option, he continues: ‘If you want to go into production, you can start tomorrow.’ The first wants to try Yakovenko, but a factory? She swallows. ‘I don’t know. I also have my – how to say – pride.’
‘Promising’ asylum seekers
Although the Ministry of Social Affairs and Employment calls it ‘positive’ that so many Ukrainians have found work, it sees no reason to lift the labor restrictions for other refugee groups. Unlike Ukrainians, it is not known whether they are allowed to stay in the Netherlands after their asylum procedure. Although, according to SCP researcher Dagevos, this can easily be countered by separating ‘promising’ asylum seekers from countries such as Syria from, for example, safe countries.
In any case, the employee of the employment agency has good news for Dmytri: he can start working. Not as a bus driver, as he was in Ukraine, but in a meat factory. Together with his wife, he can string satays there from 6 a.m. to 3:30 p.m. When Dmytri hears what they will earn from it, he no longer needs Google Translate to express himself. ’11 euros gross?’ He puts two thumbs up in the air with a smile: ‘Great, nice price!’