Hundreds of thousands of young Eastern Europeans are moving to Western Europe in search of better money, better career prospects and better lives. Things are moving too slowly for them back home and a growing number are unwilling to stay.
Thirty-one-year-old Maciej Olczyk never feels homesick. He's just left the office of Skidmore, Owings and Merrill -- his new employer. Olczyk's been working for the London branch of the famous architectural firm for three months. His is one of the top addresses in the business -- the company's designs have included Chicago's Sears Tower and Dubai's seven-star Burj al-Arab Hotel. Olczyk and 10 of his colleagues are currently working on a skyscraper project for the Docklands, London's fashionable office district along the Thames River. The skyscraper will be 130 meters (427 feet) tall.
Olczyk is in a great mood as he walks past the Master Gunner pub on City Street. "We often go here with our colleagues," he says, trying hard to make his English sound nasal. He wants his Polish accent to disappear. "We're an international company. I work with people from all over Europe." Olczyk is from Warsaw, and London is still new to him.
Olczyk has just signed the contract for his new apartment -- £750 (€1,100) a month for two large rooms in a good neighborhood. The architect now earns four times what he was just recently earning back home in Warsaw. His wife Ania and their infant Max plan to follow him to London in April: "Of course I miss both of them, but it was still the right decision to come here. We're not planning to go back anytime soon."
When Poland, the Czech Republic, the Baltic states, Hungary and Slovakia joined the European Union (EU) three years ago, their accession triggered an exodus of hundreds of thousands of people from Eastern Europe who made their way to the United Kingdom, Ireland and Sweden -- the countries that immediately opened their borders to immigrants from the new member states. Countries that share borders with Eastern Europe, like Germany and Austria, on the other hand, have shielded themselves from the flow of employment-seeking immigrants by means of interim rules that remain valid until 2011.
The Labor Ministry in Warsaw estimates that 2 million out of a total of 38 million Polish citizens are currently seeking their fortunes outside their home country. Ireland alone is home to 196,000 Polish workers. More than 60,000 Latvians and tens of thousands of Lithuanians have also turned their backs on the Baltic in search of opportunities for a better life they couldn't find at home. It's a mass migration on a minor scale.
Those leaving Eastern Europe belong to the most economically important layers of society. Most of the immigrants are younger than 35, and one-fourth have completed their higher education. They want more money, a nicer apartment, to establish a career faster, better daycare and schools for their children, good universities and well-equipped hospitals. One consequence is that both Poland with its 14 percent unemployment rate and Slovakia, where the rate is 13.3 percent, now suffer from a lack of qualified workers.
MIGRATION ON A HISTORIC SCALE
Olczyk recently returned after many weeks to Warsaw for what will probably be his last visit for a long time. Despite the recent economic boom, his neighborhood, south Warsaw's Bemowo, hasn't changed much -- at least not outwardly. The Communist-era concrete apartment blocks have remained the same, there is no historic center and there are no bars or restaurants. A McDonalds has opened in the bleak cityscape -- a container-like concrete and corrugated iron construction that fits in well with the general ambience.
Maciej Olczyk lived here in a 30-square-meter (323 square feet) apartment with his wife Ania and their infant Max. To the left, there is a kitchen with two hotplates. There are books stacked from the ceiling to the floor and a computer with an extractable keyboard stands on a shelf. The second room served as both a bed and a living room for the couple and their baby.