Intense drill to qualify

Juliya Shustova at her Whangaparaoa dental practice, where she now employs two New Zealanders. Picture / Fotopress

Ukraine-born dentist Juliya Shustova moved to New Zealand on New Year's Day, 1997, in a bid to secure a safe environment for herself, her husband and two sons, then aged 11 and 16.

A 1982 honours graduate in dentistry, Shustova had spent 14 years working in dental practices before the growing corruption, criminal activity and long, dangerous compulsory military service of the Ukraine compelled the family to migrate.

"I didn't feel sure of the safety of my sons and, because of the corruption, my husband and I hesitated about opening our own business," says Shustova.

The Shustovas applied to immigrate to New Zealand with Juliya as the main applicant, However, the Ukraine didn't let go of the family easily. Important documents 'went astray' in the Ukraine mail system and Shustova was forced to travel to the New Zealand embassy in Moscow for interviews.

"Once [immigration] almost didn't happen because when I called and asked about the date of a face-to-face interview, I found it had been scheduled for that very day," she says.

When the family finally arrived in Auckland in 1997 it was to discover their problems were far from over. Not only did they face language and cultural isolation, tight finances and "unsupportive" people, their top Ukraine dental qualifications turned out to be all but worthless.

For the first time, the Shustovas were told that to work as dentists here they would need to pass local dental registration - exams involving a proficiency in written English.

While the couple was highly qualified and had worked with modern dental technologies in the Ukraine and with dentists in Germany and the United States, the New Zealand Dental Council did not rely on that experience or the documentation the Shustovas presented. While they didn't blame the council, the family was frantic with worry.

"The Ukraine used to be behind the Iron Curtain and some people do use false documents. But we had not been told we would need to re-sit," says Shustova.

The most accomplished of the family at English, Shustova embarked on a four-month course in English. But the responsibility she felt for her family's future and the pressure to re-sit full dental re-registration became too much.

"My husband's struggle with written English made his success unlikely. And I was very, very stressed. My English was good, but I had lost confidence."

The worried couple decided to qualify as dental technicians instead - a three-year course through Upper Hutt's Central Institute of Technology (CIT), working with dentures and technical materials rather than patients. The study covered skills the Shustovas had already learned, required them to take a student loan, and was below their professional capabilities.

"But we needed to secure our future; we needed to be working," says Shustova.

The Shustovas made the best of their years at CIT, passing the course with ease and regaining some confidence. During her final year of study, while working as a dental hygienist, Shustova applied to re-sit dental registration, a nine-month process including a week-long course in Dunedin.

Soon after, Shustova's husband, Valeriy, found work as a dental technician in Auckland. The family moved back to Auckland while Shustova remained in Wellington.

In 2002 she passed the last exam. Impressed, the chairman of the New Zealand Dental Council sent Shustova a letter of congratulation, which she says made her cry.

"It was so kind of him."

Three years on, the Shustovas exemplify migration success.

One son is studying law while the other has qualified as a dental technician.

After a stint as a salaried dentist in Silverdale, north of Auckland, Shustova took a break to nurse her dying mother, then took a "very big" bank loan to buy a dental practice on the Whangaparaoa Peninsula. She now employs two New Zealanders.

"I will continue to learn every new technology," she says. "I have such a passion for dentistry - it's what I do best.'

The New Zealand economy undoubtedly needs more people doing what they do best. But not all professional migrant stories end so happily - some of our best doctors, engineers and pilots are driving taxis.

Can we, should we, be making it easier for professional migrants to settle in New Zealand?

Shustova says New Zealand could do much better.

"It was a very hard time - every day of our lives had sleepless nights, tight finances and stress over the uncertainty. It was not easy at all to get to where I am today. The process of migration and so-called naturalisation takes years off people's lives."

She says the stresses included unexpected bureaucracy difficulties, language barriers, financial problems, and the need to upgrade qualifications or even change occupation.

"Some people overcome these obstacles; those that cannot become psychologically disabled and live with self-pity."

Political heat on the New Zealand Immigration Service and the resulting pressure to vet and reduce migrants has possibly resulted in New Zealand being short-changed of valuable future citizens like the Shustovas.

Statistics New Zealand information shows annual net inbound migration has dropped 57 per cent in 12 months for a total migrant gain of 15,000, compared with 35,000 in 2003. That number is expected to drop further.

Shustova can't understand why the immigration process for professionally qualified migrants is so arduous.

"More dentists are needed in New Zealand, especially in rural areas. Professional migrants can have a positive impact on the country - and it is better to have more working professionals than more taxi drivers."