Notes of an Uzbek Migrant Worker
By Sean at 10 March, 2009, 8:27 am
Anyone interested in migrant labor and ethnic/race relations in Russia, should check out “Diary of an Uzbek Gastarbeiter” on Opendemocracy.net. It’s a harrowing story of an Uzbek migrant named Shukhrat Berdyev, 48, experience as a migrant laborer in Russia over a ten year period. Before the collapse of the Soviet Union, Berdyev had a bright future ahead of him. He had a stable family life and was a student at the Tashkent Pedagogical institute and Communist Party member. All that ended in 1991, and Berdyev, who first visited Russia in 1980 as a tourist, returned as a day laborer. I’ll only reproduce a few entries here, but the whole thing is worth a read to get an understanding of what Russia’s gastarbeiters must go through to eek out a living.
25-26 August 1998
At midday the director of the market, an Uzbek, told me to come and see him. He’d noticed that I was a good carpenter, and made me an offer to go to the Leningrad Oblast to build a house with a team of three people. He had to help a friend. The job would pay well, he promised, and the working conditions would be decent. I agreed on the spot. Never again did I want to see that filthy, stinking market,where we were all treated like slaves. We were paid pennies, and we sweated blood from morning till night in unspeakably dirty conditions.
That night, I got on to a train with my fellow countrymen from Shakhrisabz, Safar and Khaklod. In the morning we were met in Petersburg by a guy called Oleg. He drove us to the oblast, to a village called Yesinos. They were building a large country house there, and they needed more labour. The owner, Viktor Petrovich, a cultured man with glasses and a beard, met us with a smile: he fed us, let us rest and found a place for us to live in the brick house where the other workers lived. Wherever he went, Petrovich was accompanied by well-built young men, silent and gloomy, who followed all his orders. The owner of the house was clearly someone.
He laid out the conditions straight away: we would work five days a week, with two days off, we would be fed at the company’s expense, be paid in dollars, and were categorically not allowed to leave the territory of the building site. We agreed happily, because after the market atTyoply Stan, Yesinos seemed like a sanatorium.
23 June 2002. Moscow Oblast.
Kazan Station. There’s half an hour left before the Moscow-Tashkent train leaves. My hands are still shaking, and my left eye is twitching. I realize that I was born again three days ago. If it hadn’t been for the old man from the house next door, we’d all have died. The entire brigade would have burned to death. How many times did I tell the guys not to talk to strangers, especially not drink alcohol with them? They didn’t listen and paid dearly for it.
But everything began so well! For the first two months we worked on the construction site of a residential building and we were paid on time. Ten days before leaving for Tashkent, I got a good order through a foreman I know. Each one of us could have earned $500 a week. We had to dig a kilometre-long trench for laying gas pipes in the Moscow Oblast. We worked like moles, from morning till late at night, to get the job done on time. The pipeline passed through the gardens of rich people’s houses.
There we were, progressing metre by metre, when this strange Russian guy with drinks and snacks began coming to the site. He introduced himself as a local resident and gave the workers beer. After a week, he’d gained our trust and knew everything about us, our names, where we were from, when we would finish the job etc. I didn’t notice what was going on, because during this time I was supervising work on a different site. And my fellow Uzbeks let their guard down, they started boasting and told this guy the most important thing – when and how much they would be paid for this job.
When I saw this Russian for the first time, I liked him too, at first. He was very open and friendly, and offered work. But then I started asking myself, why’s he coming here every day, giving the guys beer? I didn’t come up with an answer.
It all became clear the day before we left this village. We packed up our things in the barn where we lived and ate. At midnight this guy appeared on the threshold with a pistol in his hand. H epointed the gun at us and ordered us to give him all the money. We were all terrified, but nobody moved. Then he put the silencer on the pistol and started shooting at the lamps, screaming: “I’ll shoot the lot of you!” It got dark. We realized that he would kill us, and no one around would hear the shots or our cries. Our house was on the outskirts of the village, right by the forest. We silently laid out the money, and he took several thousand dollars, closed the door from the outside and blocked it with a spade. We thought that he had gone away, but we smelt petrol and heard him running around the barn with a petrol can. Then everything burst into flames, and we realized that the barn was on fire. The guys screamed and kicked at the door, but it didn’t budge. The window in the barn was very small, and no one could crawl out through it.
We thought it was all over for us. That we were goingto be burned up like matches. But unexpectedly, we were lucky. An old man from a distant house happened to notice the fire. He ran to help us and opened the door. We rushed out and a minute later the barn was burning like a torch. The fire brigade, the police and the ambulance appeared, two of the guys were taken to hospital as they’d almost suffocated from the smoke, and the rest of us were taken away for questioning. In the morning the police let us go, promising that they would find this criminal. None of us believed them. We gathered together our last money and bought a ticket for the Moscow-Tashkent train. I swore I’d never go to Russia again.
2 August 2006. Moscow. Northern district. “Aeroport”region.
Today we finished work early. By midday all the caretakers had shut themselves in their hostel. On “Paratroopers’ Day” none of us go outside in the afternoon. It’s a dangerous day, and not just for “Asians” and “Caucasians”, but even for Russians. A drunken paratrooper is more terrifying than a skinhead.He’s got more energy, less brains and no fear of the police. Something always happens.Some of our fellow countrymen will be unlucky today – they’ll get their eye poked out or be whacked in the head. We don’t go outside on 21 April, Hitler’s birthday, either.
There are hardly any skinheads around Aeroport, but although Misha, the head of the caretakers, hates us Uzbeks, he advised us not to leave the dormitory. On days like these we sit in front of the TV and see who’s been attacked by skinheads.
I live in a small room with five other people, with three bunk beds, a wash basin and a table. In the corridor there’s a shower, kitchen and toilet. We’ve even got hot water. The Uzbeks who work on construction sites and live in wagons envy us. “It’s a real hotel you’ve got here,” they joke when they come to visit.
Our work isn’t difficult either. We get up at 5 a.m., clean the pavements and yards and trim the trees. The women clean the doorways and windows. The shift ends at lunchtime. At 2 p.m. we go to roll-call at the municipal services office and do odd jobs around the territory.
Enterprising people get other work on the side. They take away rubbish, get rid of building materials when places are being done up, or go and dig gardens at dachas on the weekends. We earn about $400-500 a month. No one carries large amounts of money, as the cops may take it away from you. We sometimes give something to the drunken students from the automobile technical college next door so they’ll leave us alone.
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I’m left wondering where this diary came from and how it came to be excerpted on OpenDemocracy.net.
Not to be overly cynical about its origins, but …
Sean, thanks for bringing this to my attention. I had missed it; I tend to skip OpenDemocracy stuff, for whatever reason.
Like W.Shedd (I always want to pronounce that woodshed), I was curious about the origins of the diary since neither google nor yandex turn up anything like a diary or news on a migrant worker for “Шухрат Бердиев.” (I’m assuming that’s the Cyrillic version?)
But Mumin Shakirov seems to be a known reporter, so I’m guessing that this is a reliable source. Would be nice to have the original text, all the same, assuming it was written in Russian.
I should add that I wondered what happened to Alla Petrovna?
The story was shaping up to be an episode of “Big Love” or perhaps a Penthouse Forum letter … and then we jump ahead a few years and she’s gone! What happened!?
We don’t go outside on 21 April, Hitler’s birthday, either.
Wrong day. Hitler’s birthday is 20th April.
$500 a week is $2000 a month. Real good money and is worth the risk.
A more tip on the theme:
http://www.eduardbagirov.ru/index/index_18.html
So poor guy returns to the Russian hell year after year? He is really strange
You’re such a dick.
Yeah, we should blame a guy who risks leaving the asshole of the world, to work in Russia for a little bit of money to support his family.
In such situations, workers are always leaving more desperate work and living situations, to find some scarce opportunity in a more affluent nation.
Apparently you feel it is best to mock such people for risks they might experience, or suggest there are no risks, as migrant or guest workers.
A few Russian friends of mine that I forwarded that article to suggested his experiences seemed mild compared to what they would expect for treatment of most Russian gastarbeiters. One said it read like a Disneyland version of what these workers really endure to work jobs that Russians themselves won’t do.
W.Shedd
At least two of my friends have such “slaves”. From Tadzhikistand and Uzbekistan. And it’s funny as with one friend it’s not clear who is working for whom as all money generated by “host” family. But they not only paid for all service their Tadzhik “slaves” are doing – they help them – by driving them there – go shopping, getting tickets to fly home. Free Internet of course etc.
With other friend – he doesn’t pay his 4 Uzbeks. But they have a house to live and have to pay a fixed amount every month. The rest is theirs. What they do – growing vegetables and sell them.
And I have never heard about “skinhead” problems with them. And I’m talking about two very different cities in Russia.
So I’m not impressed by the story – that’s it.
Ivanov, it’s quite possible that BOTH stories are true: what you wrote about your two friends and what the Uzbek wrote about his experiences. One does not negate the other.
I’ve met Mexicans working in US farms that were deeply appreciative of the way the American farmers who hired them treated them. This does not mean, though, that the stories of abuse and exploitation one hears about are bullshit.
I’d just like to add to Kolya’s comment. Take someone for example who comes from some shit little town in Central Asia. Every year he takes a risk and heads to Russia to earn some money to keep his family above the breadline. He works on a construction site in dangerous conditions, living in unsanitary housing and may be locked in at night. He may have his documents taken from him for the duration of the work so that he cannot leave. His wage is far below the going rate for a “Russian” worker and is subject to the whims of his boss, who may want to fine him for work not completed to whatever standard he happens to see fit on that particular day. Unjustifiably large sums may be taken off for food and lodging. Yet in comparison to what he could earn at home, the final wage still makes it worth his while coming back again and again for the same type of work, each time risking that he might not, if he is unlucky, get paid at all and told to simply eff off 3 months down the line. Then you ask him how he feels about the work and he says it’s fine, the boss is OK, the injuries sustained on the job were his fault, the money taken from his wages acceptable. But does the fact that he is consciously taking the risk and moreover is seemingly OK with the situation negate the fact that he is being subject to human rights abuse? Of course not. The fact that migrant workers will put up with such treatment just shows the miserable conditions they are coming from back at home and the desperate situation they are in, but does not make it any more acceptable for them to be treated in such a way. If you’re uneducated you might not know what your rights are, but does not justify someone violating them.
I agree, ‘ivanov’ is being a dick.
If anyone’s interested in knowing more about this here’s a report by the ILO that I used in a project once. There are loads of this kind of story in the appendices.
http://www.ilo.org/wcmsp5/groups/public/—ed_norm/—declaration/documents/publication/wcms_081997.pdf
Last July we had an accident on our building site, which involved a 24 year old Kyrgyz chap falling through a hole in a roof 5m to a concrete floor below. He survived, just, but it pretty bashed up. He was brought onto the site just that evening (it happened during nightshift) without any induction or safety supervision, and told to clear a floor of debris. The place was pretty dark, he cleared a load of scrap wood from the middle of the floor, not realising that one of them was covering a manhole, i.e. serving a purpose instead of left lying about. He then stepped forward into the hole.
The Russian subcontractor basically couldn’t care less, and nor could the Russian authorities once they found out it was a Russian company they were dealing with, and one friendly with the local mayor to boot (which is the sole reason they got the job in the first place: use somebody else, you don’t get your approvals). Had it been a western company, all sorts of self-righteous referrals to the Labour Code and GOSTs would have been forthcoming.
A month or so later the worker awoke from his coma, so we went to interview him to find out exactly what happened. Seems his bosses had got to him first. His story was that he wanted to take a short cut downstairs so jumped through the hole 5m down, and it was all his fault. Whether he was paid or threatened by the company bosses to lie to us we don’t know, but none of us who had worked in Russia for more than a year were surprised.
>>>Had it been a western company, all sorts of self-righteous referrals to the Labour Code and GOSTs would have been forthcoming.
Sorry for clearing it up for you, gents, this thing is called capitalism.
Third-world country’s labour force is always treated like that by Big Business.
Thanks for the link, Caroline. The report was published in 2005. Do you have any sense if the situation has changed since then? Judging from what people say and write, it would seem that things, if anything, got worse. But maybe I’m wrong, perhaps the case is that there is more public awareness of the problem.
My wife’s uncle (Viktor) employs a large group of Central Asian workers in his earthwork/landscaping business. Given that he grew up in Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan himself, he has good relations with his workers. However, that does not mean that they are never subject to any abuse or problems.
For his part, Viktor claims he can’t hire Russian workers, not because of the wages they expect, but because they are unreliable. Typically he says they only work until they get their first paycheck, and then disappear and get drunk until the money is gone.
For his part, Viktor claims he can’t hire Russian workers, not because of the wages they expect, but because they are unreliable. Typically he says they only work until they get their first paycheck, and then disappear and get drunk until the money is gone.
This tallies pretty well with my own experience on construction jobs.
I know Russians working for Chinese and Chinese working for Russians.
I know even Russians working for Russians.
Sometimes they manage to construct something.
Amazing.
let me add more dick´s stories…
The friend I told before – who had Uzbeks growing vegetables – decided to turn to “foreigners” for the reason described by W. Shedd. He couldn’t find reliable “Russian” workers. Good ones had better jobs and those not so good left created troubles only.
In another case it was a big family of Tadzhiks – father, his sons and whoever… Their option at home was to join either “government forces” or islamic groups fighting each other. With the chances to die almost 100% in any case. All other jobs were taken by “government” relatives and friends. So they preferred to come to Russia to do any work. Most “funny” part of the story – they were working for the “company” controled by Armenians. So they were like sub-slaves. But they were really glad to be there.
So everything is relative…
As to Caroline’s “humane raitz” – welcome to kapitalizm! (c) Khabar.
PS. Hole 5 m deep? I saw Polish workers here working on 15th+ floors. And it was floors only – no walls, no safety something.
So the point is – don’t blame Russians plizze. Look at you dicks first.
For his part, Viktor claims he can’t hire Russian workers, not because of the wages they expect, but because they are unreliable.
Only anecdotal evidence and hearsay on my part: a couple of my friends that do some construction for themselves (one had inherited a small lot on Каменный остров in St. Pete) say they will never hire Russians – one of them actually broadened it to Slavs. Too unreliable mainly for the reasons of drinking. They are very happy with Tadjiks and other “Southern” workers. Just 2 cents.
Yes, for comparison, it would be nice to find out more about the conditions of Mexican migrant workers in the USA, – they (conditions) must be awesome? I guess, – social benefits, unions, and working 8 hours a day. Democracy, in short. Poor Russia!
just to add a few cents and to partially respond to the question above.
Last year I had two home improvement projects: complete revamp of my kitchen and I also had my house re-painted outside.
The kitchen part was done by surfer dudes hired by a local contractor. Painting was done by Mexicans, also hired by another local contractor. The reliability of worforce basically mirrored what I hear from my friends in Russia.
Mexicans were prompt, always on time and worked long days. Surfer dudes would not even show up if the surf was up. Russians have drinking, local potheads have surf.
In the future, I would try to find Mexicans to do handiwork whenever I can.
Hi Kolya, I wouldn’t say that things have changed massively since 2005. I interned at a Russian anti-trafficking NGO in 2007 and at that point in time Russia still hadn’t fully implemented the legislation required by the Palermo protocol on trafficking (which it ratified in 2004) although I’m not sure how they’ve got on with it since then. That said as far as I know since 2006 there have been large increases in the amount of work permits issued to workers from CIS countries, which generally helps reduce the vulnerability of the workers who may have otherwise come through unofficial channels. Would be interesting to know whether this has changed with the “krizis” or not.
Don’t blame Russians pliz
And read comments – they are more interesting…
“Juan’s Handyman Service : Roofing Repair, Gutters, Painting, Plumbing, Electical, Haul Away” – that’s what the card says. Here in the Bay Area that sounds pretty standard and I had a list of such work to be done, so I called the number and made the appointment. This was after I tried to do such work myself – economic crisis and all – but, I just didn’t have the knowledge, tools or strength to install light fixtures or combat the tree rats eating through the shingles. What about that Russian husband? (I know Irishman is going to ask that. Happy Saint Pat’s.) Well he’s doing lots of extra time trying to hang on to the day-job, so I just don’t want to bother him with house maintenance. Plus aside from the ’strength’ component, he’s as useless as I am. So, Juan arrived and I gave him the tour, and he was taking in all the signs and signals the house offered as to who his new customers were. Did I speak slowly and gesture a lot trying to compensate for the fact that I don’t speak Spanish? Perhaps. You can imagine my surprise that upon entering an inner hallway, Juan stopped and turned to me to ask: “Why do you have this poster of KEENO? (Wish I had a cyrillic keyboard for that; I mean the defunct Peter’s Rock Group, with Korean lead who is dead.) “How is it that you know that poster says KEENO?” was my reply. Well Juan studied in both Kiev and Moscow. Art studies mostly. He loves art, in fact he’s noticed a number of the other paintings hanging around the house and has a few questions.
Enter the mother-in-law. Yes, she’s still here. I just accept that everyone that has a mother-in-law from St. Petersburg doesn’t choose the stuff hanging around the house. Oil paintings – most copies of master works hanging in the Hermitage – arrive with baba’s luggage along with enormous pickle jars, delicate ceramics, and Zenith banners. Mary Poppins’ carpet bag could hold no bigger surprises. Do I like them? Could be worse.
I say, “Natasha, Juan speaks Russian.” And there I forged a match made in heaven because Natasha had been living in the Russian-conversation desert of my household for months. She began babbling about each piece of art and about Kiev vs. Moscow/Peter’s. And Juan held up his end in Russian, particularly enamored of one Armenian oil painting. And there was un-cultured me with my expectations about Juan blown out of the water. True story. Just happened.
Juan is Peruvian. He makes enough money with his handyman business to support his family, including a daughter (born in Russia) that now studies at a University in Peru.
Back to Juan’s card. Must be great to have all those skills. Juan seems to love the knowledge in his head (art, language) and to be able to do all that with his hands. I think his skills are going to remain in demand, and his worries are fewer than many of his customers- for example those that are holding corporate jobs and big mortgages. I’m back to my question re: Iceland: What happens when a people educate themselves to the point of being totally useless? Maybe I’d like my 14-year old to ’study’ with Juan.
Tess, I really liked your interesting Juan story. This doesn’t mean that I can venture an intelligent reply to your question at the end.
Through the years I’ve come across several Juan types: highly educated and cultured people who work as handymen, painters, landscapers and so on. And many of them, perhaps most, seem quite happy with their lives. They are usually their own bosses and earn enough to be able to pursue their own interests in their free time (art, philosophy, history and so on.) Although not directly pertinent to the issue you’ve raised, my guess is that such people can only thrive in well developed nations that already have a fairly high standard of living. In the US a PhD in literature who earns his living as a landscaper or handyman may make enough money and have the spare time to satisfy his love of literature. But that would not be the case with most of his Latin American, Asian and African counterparts.
I just accept that everyone that has a mother-in-law from St. Petersburg doesn’t choose the stuff hanging around the house.
Ha ha! So true!
“Love the art in yourself, not yourself in the art”, the everyday truth (and irony) of Stanislavsky’s remark.
Is this kind of insult?
My kinds are rather useless and without good education. They can hardly operate washing machine, dishwasher and vacuum cleaner. I have two university diplomas and can repair almost anything around house plus mechanical stuff of cars plus some HTML
Same with people here – some are absolutelly useless except their facebook and iPod. Some – can fix anything.
But a lot part of “dirty jobs” are done by utlendingar (aka foreigners).
But I think we’ll lost the knowledge of vacuum cleaners usage very soon – as every store here sells these iRobots that are said can clean floors.
PS. In general Icelanders are damn good in making things work. But they are not perfectionists for sure. If it works and can’t be blown away by wind – fine.