Horticultural Horizons

Barry Lupton talks to a migrant worker about her experience of working Irish Horticulture

With the distractions of our post-tiger consumer society taking up more and more of our thoughts, it’s easy to forget that no so long ago Ireland was considered, at least in respect to our European and North American counterparts, a relatively poor country. And while we now count technology, machinery and pharmaceuticals as primary export commodities, there was a time when Ireland’s principal export was its people.

With the shift towards technology, service and other high skilled industries, our generally well-educated population has been able to secure employment at home, that twenty years ago, would have necessitated emigration. As our graduate workforce continues to take up posts in the emerging sectors, our transition to a service economy has produced a shortfall in applicants to fulfil positions in our more traditional, semi skilled industries.

This shortfall, which is perhaps more easily identifiable in the food and agriculture sectors, is also apparent in the horticulture industry. Thankfully, and a little fortuitously, the timely ascension of ten new member states to the EU has provided us with an almost limitless supply of labour. Latvia, Lithuania, Estonia, Poland and Slovenia now provide many of the employees who ensure the engine of our industry is kept ticking over. In fact, it has been estimated, by the Enterprise Strategy Group, that our broader economy will become increasingly reliant on overseas workers, to the extent that by 2010, we will need over 400,000 new workers; the majority of which will be recruited outside of Ireland.

Having spent some time as a migrant, employed in a variety of capacities throughout the Dutch nursery sector, in my experience, Irish workers were always treated extremely well by their Dutch employers. I wish I could say the same for many of the illegal migrants whom I had the pleasure of working with: Often working for less than half what I received, they existed on the periphery, marginalized, unprotected and under the constant threat of detection. The plight of those workers has always stayed in my thoughts, so I wanted to gain insight into the experiences of the migrant employed within our own industry. After countless calls, emails and knocking on numerous doors, I eventually found somebody willing to relate their experiences.

Inara Skukina, is a Latvian national. Originally from C?sis in the eastern part of the country, Inara came to Ireland in the spring of 2002 to find work and in search of a new life. As with the majority of migrant workers, Inara initially worked in a variety of jobs. After mixed successes, she eventually secured a promising position with a north Dublin based company involved in the packing and processing of cut flowers. Far from a tale of misery and mistreatment, Inara’s story is one of success and triumph. “My son came to Ireland six years ago,” explained Inara. “He works in a sweet factory and is very happy. He used to telephone us often and soon my daughter decided she would also give Ireland a try. At that time it was very hard to find work in Latvia. I did lots of different jobs to make a living. I had been working on an industrial scale farm; then everything just collapsed. Two years after my daughter left I made up my mind to do the same.”

Lativa, for those of you, who like me, spent geography class gazing out the window when we should have been listening, forms part of what is commonly termed the Baltic States. Bordered by Estonia, Russia, Belarus and Lithuania, it has over 500km of coastline on the Baltic Sea and the Gulf of Riga. Historically, the territory now recognised as Latvia is perhaps most well known as a trading crossroads, a fact that contributed to its frequent invasion by neighbouring countries. In fact, over the course of the last 1000 years Sweden, Poland, Germany and Russia have all laid claim to it. It eventually won independence from the latter, after its break up in 1991. As Latvia continues through its difficult transition phase – privatisation of industry and shift from trade dependence on Russia – one of the consequences is the huge increase in migration of its workforce. While the loss of eligible workers can be considered damaging for their economy, without it we would not be able to sustain our own.

“I’m not really sure what I miss about Latvia,” reflected Inara. “Books, probably. I love to read and it’s hard to get quality books in Latvian. It’s a real struggle to read books in English.” Missing home when abroad is something that I’ve always thought was just part of everyone, so it’s surprising to watch Inara strain to come up with anything she misses. Whether it’s Berlin, New York or any other place, Irish people have an innate knack of becoming more Irish when away, crying into their stout about missing the craic, Brennan’s bread and Galtee sausages. “My mother is still in Latvia. I suppose I miss her, but we keep in touch on the phone and she’s been to visit. She has her life there and that’s where she’s happy. My life is here now and I don’t think I’ll ever go back.” In the five years that Inara has been in Ireland she has never been back to Latvia – I call it Latvia, and not home, as this is how Inara refers to it. From my travelling experience, Irish people, no matter how long they are away, always refer to Ireland as home. Inara may not have been back to Latvia, but that hasn’t stopped her from travelling. “I love the Irish landscape” explains Inara, spreading a mass of pictures across the table. “I’ve travelled all around Ireland, it’s a fantastic place...beautiful.” Leafing through the collection of pictures I have to admit I’m embarrassed that in the few years she’s been in the country, she has managed to visit more of Ireland’s treasures than myself. “Getting out and seeing the world is important to me, I also went to Germany and France on Holiday, which were great. If I can save enough money I’m going to visit Australia.”

Turning my attention to Inara’s experience of working in Ireland, I put it to her that I had heard a number of mixed stories; some positive and some not so positive. “No comment,” reacted Inara, eying my notepad. “Well, some people are good and some are bad. My time here has been good. When I came here first I worked as a cleaner and made good friends with my employer. Now I am working in this job its even better.” Inara had applied to a couple of nurseries for work but had been told she would have to wait a couple of months; unable to hang on she had to continue searching. Having managed to get a start with her current employer, weeding in the greenhouses and doing packing work in the evening when it was available, her abilities and aptitude were soon recognised. “Michael [Inara’s boss] recognised that I was willing to work hard. He gave me opportunities and I took them. Last year he paid for me to attend a flower show in Holland to gather ideas for expanding the business,” explained Inara. “I worked hard to learn the business. I really enjoy working with flowers. Now I am the production manager for the company.” As for working conditions, there doesn’t seem to be any sign of my own foreign experiences of ill treatment of migrant workers. “We work from 8 to 5.30 most days and some Saturdays when it’s busy. We have a Latvian Community group in the village, which give us information on rights,” she said. A little further digging revealed that there are a number of proactive initiatives, both Government and NGO, which provide assistance, advice and guidance for migrant workers. “The only thing that is not so good is language,” said Inara. “In our job we have Latvians, Polish and Lithuanians all working together. I try hard to learn English [Inara has attended a number of course in English] but some other people make no effort to learn. They stick together. It would be better if we all tried harder to learn and mix.”

With respect to social connection and integration Inara explained that the Latvian community does it’s best to get along. “When I got here first I didn’t understand why people that I didn’t know would say hello to me. Irish people are very friendly. I have made some Irish friends through jobs but I’d really like to make some more,” commented Inara. I explained that Irish people, no matter where they find themselves, can always seek solace in one of our other main exports; the ubiquitous Irish bar. “Some Latvian people do drink of course. But it is more normal for us to be involved in community groups. We love to dance and we love cultural things,” explained Inara, further adding to my guilt for not fully exploring my own country and wasting my travelling experiences pining for a muga tae and two slices of toast. “It can be hard now to see so many people coming over looking for work. I think Ireland is full now. Everyday we have more people coming to our job looking for work. From talking to others, it is the same everywhere…they are just turned away.”

With my faith in human nature restored, I left Inara to her plans for Australian holidays, job promotion and love of the Irish countryside. As I write I have a newly purchased copy of Frank Mitchell’s ‘Reading The Irish Landscape’ by my side and plans for a trip to Kerry in the pipeline. Cheers Inara.

Picture: Inara, on one of her many trips, is pictured here soaking up the Kilkee coastline