They are part of the first wave of Ukrainian immigrants who arrived in the country at the beginning of the 21st century. The economic crisis in Ukraine pushed them to other European countries and Portugal was the choice of nearly 80 thousand. Today there are about 28 thousand, plus 15 to 20 thousand who already have dual nationality and, therefore, are not part of the statistics of the Foreigners and Borders Service.
Many opted for the districts of Santarém and Leiria. Some found work in the companies of the J.J. Louro Pereira Group. They arrived with the objective of staying no longer than a year, but ended up staying here and starting a family. We talked to some of them to understand how was their integration and how they are living the drama of war seen from a distance, but closely felt in their country of origin where their family, friends and heart remains.
keeping with its commitment to support the communities that need it most, especially those closest to us, J. J. Louro Pereira Group has joined the initiative of the Government of the Portuguese Republic and the IEFP – Institute for Employment and Vocational Training – “Portugal for Ukraine”, making available several job offers in the Group’s different companies, aimed at Ukrainian citizens who choose Portugal to flee the armed conflict ravaging their country of origin.
Occasionally, the Group has also been asked to help the local community, either by collecting food and hygiene products or by donating furniture to make comfortable homes for Ukrainian families that continue to arrive in the region.
Natalya Hryshyna
Natalya is 40 years old, half of which she has lived in Portugal, working in the furniture section of J.J. Louro, in Amiais de Cima. She left Ukraine following her boyfriend’s footsteps. Both intended to work for a few years, collect some money and return home, but they ended up staying. “I have two daughters, a 15-year-old and a 12-year-old. The longer you spend out of the country, the harder it is to come back and redo your life there. To integrate ourselves again. We are fine here, we all have Portuguese nationality,” she says.
At work, despite the initial difficulty because she didn’t speak Portuguese, she managed to learn the language with the help of a colleague who spoke English and thanks her boss who never complained. She wrote the words in Portuguese, English, and Russian on a piece of paper. Natalya is from Kherson, region next to Crimea, where part of the population speaks Russian. It was in this town that she left her mother, brother, niece, sister-in-law (her two children) and in-laws. “The city is occupied by the Russians and no one can leave. I sleep badly every day, come home, turn on the TV, watch the news, and get distressed,” she tells us in a choked voice.
She has managed to keep in touch as much as possible with her family and friends from her time in Economics, the course she left when she came to Portugal. We talked to Natalya on the 19th day of the conflict. Her brother has volunteered for the Ukrainian army and Natalya, being far away, helps as an interpreter. The day before she had gone to visit the 22 refugees who arrived at Quinta do Arrife, in Amiais de Cima, Santarém. Most of them are women and are already asking for work. Natalya guarantees that she is totally available to help after working hours.
Viktor Baranov
Viktor, 65, arrived in Portugal in the year 2000. He came from Khmelnytskyi, a town near the Polish border. There he left his wife and two sons, now in their 30s. One collaborates in humanitarian aid and distributes food to other cities. The other, a home textile entrepreneur, has adapted his business and now produces uniforms for the Ukrainian military. The last time he was with them and his grandchildren was last year when he went there on vacation.
Like so many of his compatriots, Viktor left Ukraine because he could not find work. Before arriving in Porto to work on construction sites, encouraged by friends who were already here, he worked for two years in Israel in construction. In his resume he already had 20 years of work, also in construction, in Riga, Latvia.
Through the company in Porto he worked in road construction all over the country. This is how he got to know a fellow countryman living in Alcanena. He worked in the tannery and convinced him to move to the region. He arrived in 2003 and since then has worked at J.J. Louro, in Amiais de Cima. Here he has passed through practically every section, from mattresses to furniture, and he confesses that he feels happy and fulfilled.
He also learned Portuguese with friends and co-workers, but at home the TV is tuned to Ukrainian channels. He also watches some Russian channels and is “furious” with the amount of lies they broadcast.
When the conflict started he joined the Ukrainian community in Alcanena and they bought food and goods to send to Ukraine.
Hryhoriy Bondarenko
Hryhoriy, or Gregory as his colleagues call him, to overcome the difficulty of articulating his original name, has been working at J.J. Louro for 20 years. He arrived in Portugal a year earlier. Through the influence of Ukrainian friends he came to the Amiais de Baixo area.
We found him at his workstation, at his paintings, with an earpiece in his ear. “I am permanently in contact with my family, we never know if that will be the last word we exchange,” he tells us apprehensively.
Hryhoriy, 52, is a native of Sumy, the town where he left his father, a sister, and two nephews. Sumy, in northwestern Ukraine and close to the Russian border, is one of the most war-torn cities at present, and according to Hryhoriy there are not enough humanitarian corridors for civilians to get out.
The worry is mirrored in his tired face. “I haven’t had a peaceful night’s sleep since the conflict began.” His niece is pregnant, as is his nephew’s wife. He fears for their health and safety, but also for his nephew, serving the Ukrainian army in humanitarian aid.
He had vacations scheduled for soon, but he will only take them if he can’t get his family to come to Portugal. Otherwise he prefers to keep working, to distract his mind. “If I stay at home just listening to the news, I go crazy,” he says.
Hryhoriy is part of the same group as Viktor Baranov, who organized a collection of food and goods to send to the Ukraine from Alcanena. “I know it’s not the healthiest food, but I bought a lot of goodies for the children. So that they have at least a little bit of joy,” he confesses.
Hennadiy Cherneha
Hennadiy, 57, arrived in Portugal 15 years ago in search of work and better economic conditions and quality of life. He found them nine years ago at Lusocolchão, in Santarém, where he works in the foam sector.
He likes his job and the company, but he can’t convince the family members he left behind in the Ukraine, in the Vinnytsia region in the center of the country, about 400 km from the capital Kiev, to come and join him.
The reasons are varied. His elderly mother does not want to leave her homeland and does not feel strong enough to start over in a new country. His brothers and nephews, on the other hand, are forbidden to leave the territory under martial law, which dictates that all men between the ages of 18 and 60 may be called upon to join the Ukrainian army and defend the country against attack from Russia.
