ARMENIA: SEEKING WORK IN RUSSIA BY HOOK OR BY CROOK
EurasiaNet.org
March 31 2015
March 31, 2015 - 11:19am, by Marianna Grigoryan
Three months into Armenia's membership in the Moscow-led Eurasian
Economic Union, the search for work in Russia, a longtime regional
employment-hub, has become as much about finding ways around bans on
Armenian migrants as about finding an actual job.
One 47-year-old resident from a village in Armenia's eastern region
of Gegharkunik, where much of the population works abroad, told
EurasiaNet.org that he had to adopt his wife's last name, sell her
jewelry and the family's only cow, plus borrow money from relatives
to pay $3,000 to so-called "middle-men" who find a way to slip
into Russia.
"I had no other way out," said the man, who requested anonymity. "My
father had a stroke. Eight members of our family depended on me. I
had either to take this step or stay begging in Armenia."
Tens of thousands of Armenian families are in a similar situation this
spring, the usual season for migrant-workers' departures to Russia,
Armenia's closest regional economic partner. Remittances from Armenian
migrants, mostly male, are estimated to have amounted to a total
equivalent to 21 percent of Armenia's annual Gross Domestic Product
between 2010 and 2014, according to the World Bank.
But new Russian restrictions that came into force on January 1 mean
that Armenian migrants and others without long-term visas can stay
in Russia for only three months at a time. They must live in their
country of origin for the same length of time. Those who allegedly
have violated these or earlier labor-migration rules face bans up to
a decade on entering Russia.
Some 180,000 individuals currently are on this black list, according
to Armenia's State Migration Service. Sixty thousand have returned
to Armenia, the agency's director, Gagik Yeganian, estimated.
"They left the territory of Russia, they mainly live in Armenia
and cannot return because they broke the demands of the migration
legislation of that country," Yeganian said.
These restrictions as well as Russia's economic crisis have reduced
drastically the amount of financial transfers to Armenia - by 56
percent to $38.37 million in January 2015 compared with the same
month in 2014, according to the Central Bank.
Nonetheless, even the chance that they will not be able to enter
Russia or to find a decent job there does not prevent Armenian
workers from trying. Average monthly wages stand at just 174,450
drams, about $370. Unemployment, officially, stands at 6.6 percent,
though some economists believe that the real number is far higher-
particularly in rural areas, where well-paid work is rare.
"Tell me, if I stay here, who will do anything for us?" the
Gegharkunik-region villager asked rhetorically. "Nobody."
Every day, those workers banned from entering Russia crowd into the
Migration Service's headquarters in the capital, Yerevan, to fill in
applications to request the Russian government to clarify the reasons
for the ban, and to have their names removed. Only about a quarter
of the applications are granted, Migration Service Director Yeganian
estimated. An answer can take three months or more to arrive.
"Many are on the black list for unclear reasons," commented Angela
Khlghatian, a resident of the village of Litchk, a mid-size settlement
on the southwestern shore of Lake Sevan that also depends heavily on
Russian remittances. "There are people who have never even been to
Russia, but they are on the black list as well. Being on the black
list simply means a collapse [of financial security] for the family.
Because they can neither farm nor do anything else" in Armenia.
The Armenian government and non-governmental organizations do not,
as yet, provide any support-programs for these individuals.
In a February-2 interview with public television, Migration Service
Director Yeganian stressed that Russia's migration-restrictions are not
targeted against Armenia, but are part of an attempt to stem illegal
migration. He termed the ability to appeal or request information
about the travel-bans "very kind."
The Russian embassy in Yerevan could not be reached for comment.
As they wait for a response from Moscow, though, some of these workers
take matters into their own hands. They change their names and turn
to various individuals who can facilitate their travel into Russia.
Workers who use such means declined to discuss the specifics with
EurasiaNet.org, though bribery was cited.
"[T]he circle is so narrow that everyone knows each other, and even
after changing your last name, you start bribing [Armenian officials],"
said one resident of the village of Tsakqar in Gegharkunik. "They
know why you are changing your surname, they know what you are going
to do. Everyone demands their share."
Bribes can also be paid to have names removed in Russia from the list
of banned migrants, some migrants alleged.
No investigations have been launched as yet.
In this patriarchal society, a man changing his last name to his
wife's name generally would be cause for comment, but, amidst the
migration-squeeze, has become more standard. ("See if you can find
people who did not change their surnames!" one villager in the
Gegharkunik region laughed.)
Tsovinar Khachatrian, spokesperson for the Ministry of Justice,
which contains registry-files, said that she has heard about workers
changing their last names to get into Russia, but added that the
ministry has no related information "about who changed their surnames
in the last months."
Back in the Gegharkunik region, Tsakqar Mayor Gvidon Avetisian
commented that he also has heard of this practice for getting into
Russia, but claimed he had no knowledge of other measures taken.
"Most of the village lives on remittances from Russia. Now they've
started going to Kazakhstan, especially those on the black list,"
Avetisian said. "But it is hard to say what they do, how they do it,"
to get into Russia.
For now, as Armenia continues to struggle with fallout from the
Russian economic crisis, it looks like the limits are few.
"There are those who are ready to take any measures only to be able
to go and work," said the Gegharkunik-region worker.
Editor's note: Marianna Grigoryan is a freelance reporter based in
Yerevan and editor of MediaLab.am.
http://www.eurasianet.org/node/72801
EurasiaNet.org
March 31 2015
March 31, 2015 - 11:19am, by Marianna Grigoryan
Three months into Armenia's membership in the Moscow-led Eurasian
Economic Union, the search for work in Russia, a longtime regional
employment-hub, has become as much about finding ways around bans on
Armenian migrants as about finding an actual job.
One 47-year-old resident from a village in Armenia's eastern region
of Gegharkunik, where much of the population works abroad, told
EurasiaNet.org that he had to adopt his wife's last name, sell her
jewelry and the family's only cow, plus borrow money from relatives
to pay $3,000 to so-called "middle-men" who find a way to slip
into Russia.
"I had no other way out," said the man, who requested anonymity. "My
father had a stroke. Eight members of our family depended on me. I
had either to take this step or stay begging in Armenia."
Tens of thousands of Armenian families are in a similar situation this
spring, the usual season for migrant-workers' departures to Russia,
Armenia's closest regional economic partner. Remittances from Armenian
migrants, mostly male, are estimated to have amounted to a total
equivalent to 21 percent of Armenia's annual Gross Domestic Product
between 2010 and 2014, according to the World Bank.
But new Russian restrictions that came into force on January 1 mean
that Armenian migrants and others without long-term visas can stay
in Russia for only three months at a time. They must live in their
country of origin for the same length of time. Those who allegedly
have violated these or earlier labor-migration rules face bans up to
a decade on entering Russia.
Some 180,000 individuals currently are on this black list, according
to Armenia's State Migration Service. Sixty thousand have returned
to Armenia, the agency's director, Gagik Yeganian, estimated.
"They left the territory of Russia, they mainly live in Armenia
and cannot return because they broke the demands of the migration
legislation of that country," Yeganian said.
These restrictions as well as Russia's economic crisis have reduced
drastically the amount of financial transfers to Armenia - by 56
percent to $38.37 million in January 2015 compared with the same
month in 2014, according to the Central Bank.
Nonetheless, even the chance that they will not be able to enter
Russia or to find a decent job there does not prevent Armenian
workers from trying. Average monthly wages stand at just 174,450
drams, about $370. Unemployment, officially, stands at 6.6 percent,
though some economists believe that the real number is far higher-
particularly in rural areas, where well-paid work is rare.
"Tell me, if I stay here, who will do anything for us?" the
Gegharkunik-region villager asked rhetorically. "Nobody."
Every day, those workers banned from entering Russia crowd into the
Migration Service's headquarters in the capital, Yerevan, to fill in
applications to request the Russian government to clarify the reasons
for the ban, and to have their names removed. Only about a quarter
of the applications are granted, Migration Service Director Yeganian
estimated. An answer can take three months or more to arrive.
"Many are on the black list for unclear reasons," commented Angela
Khlghatian, a resident of the village of Litchk, a mid-size settlement
on the southwestern shore of Lake Sevan that also depends heavily on
Russian remittances. "There are people who have never even been to
Russia, but they are on the black list as well. Being on the black
list simply means a collapse [of financial security] for the family.
Because they can neither farm nor do anything else" in Armenia.
The Armenian government and non-governmental organizations do not,
as yet, provide any support-programs for these individuals.
In a February-2 interview with public television, Migration Service
Director Yeganian stressed that Russia's migration-restrictions are not
targeted against Armenia, but are part of an attempt to stem illegal
migration. He termed the ability to appeal or request information
about the travel-bans "very kind."
The Russian embassy in Yerevan could not be reached for comment.
As they wait for a response from Moscow, though, some of these workers
take matters into their own hands. They change their names and turn
to various individuals who can facilitate their travel into Russia.
Workers who use such means declined to discuss the specifics with
EurasiaNet.org, though bribery was cited.
"[T]he circle is so narrow that everyone knows each other, and even
after changing your last name, you start bribing [Armenian officials],"
said one resident of the village of Tsakqar in Gegharkunik. "They
know why you are changing your surname, they know what you are going
to do. Everyone demands their share."
Bribes can also be paid to have names removed in Russia from the list
of banned migrants, some migrants alleged.
No investigations have been launched as yet.
In this patriarchal society, a man changing his last name to his
wife's name generally would be cause for comment, but, amidst the
migration-squeeze, has become more standard. ("See if you can find
people who did not change their surnames!" one villager in the
Gegharkunik region laughed.)
Tsovinar Khachatrian, spokesperson for the Ministry of Justice,
which contains registry-files, said that she has heard about workers
changing their last names to get into Russia, but added that the
ministry has no related information "about who changed their surnames
in the last months."
Back in the Gegharkunik region, Tsakqar Mayor Gvidon Avetisian
commented that he also has heard of this practice for getting into
Russia, but claimed he had no knowledge of other measures taken.
"Most of the village lives on remittances from Russia. Now they've
started going to Kazakhstan, especially those on the black list,"
Avetisian said. "But it is hard to say what they do, how they do it,"
to get into Russia.
For now, as Armenia continues to struggle with fallout from the
Russian economic crisis, it looks like the limits are few.
"There are those who are ready to take any measures only to be able
to go and work," said the Gegharkunik-region worker.
Editor's note: Marianna Grigoryan is a freelance reporter based in
Yerevan and editor of MediaLab.am.
http://www.eurasianet.org/node/72801