A shortage of skilled workers in Slovenia has prompted some businesses to recruit help from abroad. But the arrival of foreign workers presents challenges for locals and newcomers alike.

Lenart in the Slovenske Gorice region is a small town in northeastern Slovenia where people know each other by name, and where morning traffic doesn’t just mean minor delays, but brief greetings exchanged along the main road toward Gornja Radgona or Maribor. And it’s a place where, when new faces appear, residents in the town of around 3,000 people notice. 

About a year and a half ago, the presence of small groups of foreign men walking to and from a local factory got tongues wagging. Comments began to appear on social media, ranging from curiosity to distrust. Many residents questioned why companies were recruiting workers from abroad instead of offering better wages to local employees. 

Some argued that foreign workers were being hired because they were willing to work for lower pay, while others accused employers of prioritizing profits over domestic labor. A smaller number of comments contained openly hostile remarks, while some called for understanding and pointed out that foreign workers are often filling positions that local employers struggle to staff. 

The debate revealed that the arrival of foreign workers had become a proxy for broader anxieties about wages, working conditions, and the future of the local labor market. 

But the reactions of locals raise a number of questions: are small communities prepared for the arrival of workers from different cultural backgrounds? How are institutions responding? And how are communities facing such changes for the first time coping with them? 

Seeking answers to these questions, I set out to talk to the new arrivals and their employers in Lenart and elsewhere in the country. What I uncovered were stories of people who left their homes, families, and familiar surroundings 7,000 kilometers away in search of a better future.

My quest led me to Norka, where I was invited to see production facilities, foreign workers, and temporary housing provided by the company for myself. 

Mutual Unease

An online survey by the local media outlet Ovtar24 provided clarity about locals’ broader feelings on the issue. Nearly half of the some 430 respondents perceived the arrival of the men, laborers from India, negatively. About 41 percent viewed their presence neutrally, and only 11 percent positively. For those who had encountered the laborers personally, 54 percent reported a sense of distrust, 30 percent felt nothing in particular, and 16 percent expressed curiosity. 

Interviews with the laborers themselves suggest that the unease is mutual. None of the men who spoke to Transitions singled out specific conflicts, but rather the absence of a connection to locals. People observe the laborers from afar, they explained, but rarely approach.

In Lenart’s case, the outsiders are Indians brought in by Norka, a local manufacturer that has been producing technologically advanced rubber products in the town since 2008. But the situation mirrors that in communities across Slovenia.

According to the Interior Ministry, 61,483 third-country nationals held valid temporary residence permits for employment or work in Slovenia on 1 June 2026. The largest groups came from Bosnia and Herzegovina (26,211), Serbia (9,430), Kosovo (8,043), North Macedonia (4,429), India (2,743), and Nepal (2,076).

The number of Indian workers, in particular, has grown steadily in recent years. While only 65 employment visas were issued to Indian nationals in 2021, the figure increased to 212 in 2022, 635 in 2023, 935 in 2024, and 944 in 2025. In the first five months of 2026 alone, 521 such permits had already been issued.

Work Available, But No Workforce

“If we want to understand them, we first have to get to know them,” Norka’s director, Aleksandra Vajnhandl, tells me over coffee in her office.

Vajnhandl explains that as the company sought to expand nine years ago, it had to face the increasing shortage of domestic labor. 

Norka employs 113 workers, 19 of whom are from India. Photo by Nina Zorman.

“We had to survive as a company. We have a history, we have clients. If you want to work, you need people,” Vajnhandl said.

Norka first searched for workers on the local labor market, publishing numerous job advertisements but receiving almost no response. In 2018, the company expanded its search to neighboring Bosnia and Serbia, where existing contacts helped it recruit new employees.

But it soon became clear that even the regional labor pool was not unlimited. “Those who were willing to leave home moved on to Austria and Germany, where wages are higher,” she says. 

Eventually, Norka decided to look further abroad for a solution. And as a result, today 19 of the company’s 113 workers are from India. 

Building Relationships is Key

Norka drew on its previous experience recruiting workers from Bosnia to help smooth the way for its new Indian workers. Vajnhandl knew that the greatest challenge would be to prepare an environment of acceptance among coworkers. “The biggest problem was convincing our local employees that these are completely normal people,” she recalls. 

To aid the transition, the company organized monthly and weekly meetings across shifts, reinforcing the idea that outside workers were no less valuable or less capable, and were human just like anybody else. The new arrivals would need support – at the bank, at the doctor’s – to become comfortable with their new foreign home. “Put yourself in their shoes,”  Vajnhandl says the company asked existing employees. “What if we went to Bosnia and experienced [a negative] attitude: no one showing us where the health center is, no one helping us fill out forms?” 

For the Indian imports, the adjustment was even more complex. Not only was the bureaucratic process long and costly, but the new workers would have to adjust to an entirely unfamiliar local, and European, environment. 

The company turned to a recruitment agency to help them find suitable candidates. They had to arrange documentation, prepare work instructions in English, find mentors with sufficient language skills, and above all secure accommodation in a place where even locals sometimes struggle to find available housing. 

“The biggest problem for employers is accommodation. A worker arrives, but they need somewhere to live. They cannot arrange that on their own,” Vajnhandl points out. To address this, the company purchased and renovated a property, adapted the space, and organized living arrangements suitable for their new employees. 

Even then, work was far from over. “They come from a different environment,” she says, and it was necessary to explain how local waste collection works, how heating and ventilation systems functioned, and more generally how to share a kitchen and quarters. 

Establishing a New Home

The house that Norka purchased was built in 1900, but underwent a complete renovation before the Indian workers moved in. New windows, new floors, renovated bathrooms, and kitchens. Today, 12 Indian workers live there on two floors. They have access to two kitchens, four bathrooms, shared spaces, and four rooms with bunk beds. They also have internet access, which allows them to stay in touch with their families back home.

As you step into their temporary home, the scent of Indian spices fills the air – a smell that, for a moment, takes me to India, which I visited years ago.

Vajnhandl opens the doors to every room, explaining along the way how they adapted the spaces for living. At the same time, she almost apologizes that it could be more orderly. “You know how it is – they’re boys,” she adds with a smile. I find myself thinking that the scene would probably be no different in a student dormitory.

In the living room, the director shows me what they still plan to add: a sofa, a television, a space for gathering. Another television is to be set up upstairs. They also have a room where someone can isolate if they fall ill, so as not to put others at risk. As we walk to the balcony doors, Vajnhandl points outside. “We’ve arranged the green area here, and we’ll add a small terrace at the entrance,” she says. The space will have a bench and a table – a place where they will be able to sit and enjoy the rhythm of the town they now call home.

A room in the Lenart home where 12 Indian workers live. Photo by Nina Zorman.

Building relationships and bonds so the workers can get comfortable in their adopted country is also important. Vajnhandl proudly shows me a video created by one of the Indian employees – a moving narrative put together from moments of a team-building trip they took together. From laughter on the bus to visits to festively decorated Slovenian towns, the message of the video is simple: it is the small moments that make life better. 

And although there was a great deal of uncertainty at the beginning, she says that the biggest change has happened precisely where it was once the hardest: in relationships between people.

“We all have prejudices, especially because of skin color,” she says. “But once you start working with them, you see that they are exactly the same as we are.”

Teamwork Makes Things Easier

When Vajnhandl and I step into the production hall, the first thing that hits us is the sound. The constant hum of machines fills the space, making it difficult to hold a conversation without leaning in to hear. The air carries a heavy smell of rubber, but the space is bright and orderly.

Workers stand beside large machines, focused on repetitive movements that require precision and rhythm. Among them is 32-year-old Gokul. He is wearing white elastic gloves, and when he notices us, his face softens into a smile, his large, kind eyes greeting us with quiet warmth. When the director asks if he would take a few minutes to speak with a journalist, he nods without hesitation. A colleague takes over his position at the machine, and we step aside into a common area with a high table and vending machines, where workers can buy drinks and snacks.

Gokul comes from Kerala in southern India. Before arriving in Slovenia, he had already worked as an operator on rubber injection machines, so the job was not entirely new to him. “I had already worked on similar machines in India,” he says calmly. “So I knew what to expect.”

He has been in Lenart for a year and a half. Like many others, he arrived through an agency, but his transition was made somewhat easier because he already had relatives and friends living in Slovenia.

When he talks about Lenart, he doesn’t speak of difficulties or disappointments, but of small differences he has noticed. The moment that left the strongest impression on him was something he had never experienced back home. “I saw snow for the first time,” he says, smiling again. “It was my first experience like that.”

When asked how he feels among people in Lenart, his answer is simple: good. “People are okay. They help,” he says. But he also notices something else – a distance that is not necessarily hostile, but is present. “They don’t talk to us much. They look at us,” he explains. “When we walk by, they look.” It doesn’t sound like a complaint, more like an observation, something he has accepted as part of everyday life. He says he hasn’t experienced unkindness or danger. “I feel safe here,” he adds.

The biggest obstacle upon arrival was the language. “That was the hardest,” he admits. “But we are learning.” For now, he knows only a few basic words – dober dan, hvala (good day, thank you) – but he says it has been enough to help him get through the first stage. His daily life doesn’t end in the production hall. On weekends, he and his colleagues go on trips, sometimes even across the border. “We’ve already been to Italy and Germany,” he says. They travel by bus and train, visiting friends in other Slovenian towns. When I ask him whether he sees his future here or if this is just a temporary stop, he pauses for a moment before answering: “I think I could stay.”

Huge Language Barrier

I also spoke with 27-year-old Nagaloor, who comes from the same Indian state of Kerala as Gokul, but his story is more varied. Before coming to Slovenia, he had already experienced life in Europe, having studied mechanical engineering in Latvia. “I came to study,” he says, “but I couldn’t complete my studies due to certain complications, so I returned home.” His decision to return to Europe was therefore not a leap into the unknown, but a continuation of a path he had already begun – this time not as a student, but as a worker.

“I knew it would be better here, because wages are higher than in India,” he explains. But his reasons are not only economic. “Here, we gain international experience. We work with people from different countries and learn about their cultures.” 

When he first stepped into the production hall, it wasn’t easy. “At the beginning, it was hard,” he admits. “I thought I wouldn’t manage. But after one or two months, you get used to it.” 

Nagaloor, 27, says that over time you get used to a new environment. Photo by Nina Zorman.

Today, he says he works without major difficulties. He gets along well with his colleagues, describing their relationships simply: if someone needs help, others step in. His personal life, too, stretches across countries. His girlfriend lives and works in Germany as a nurse. They see each other rarely, mostly during holidays, but stay connected. When asked whether he plans to stay in Slovenia, he does not give a definitive answer. “I haven’t really planned that far yet,” he says. “For now, everything is fine here, so I don’t see a reason to leave.”

Like Gokul, he does not speak of negative experiences with locals. He says he hasn’t had major problems, but contact with the local community remains limited, mostly to colleagues. The reason is not necessarily a lack of interest, but something much simpler. 

“The language is the biggest obstacle,” he explains. “If we could communicate more, it would be easier. Most of us speak English, and if locals approached us, we could easily talk to them.”

Locals Are Wary, Yet Open

The Municipality of Lenart states that the arrival of foreign workers has not caused any noticeable problems or negative effects. At the same time, representatives emphasize that the town does not have direct authority in this area, nor any systematic integration programs. 

Their role therefore remains largely limited to explaining and calming discussions, which often take place elsewhere, including on social media. 

Security concerns are often at the center of the public debate, with media narratives frequently portraying migrants from third countries as violent. Police data paint a different picture. In recent years, the Lenart police station has not recorded any criminal offenses committed by third-country nationals, and the presence of foreign workers in itself does not indicate a deterioration in safety conditions, according to police.

The Employment Service warns that the labor market in the region remains favorable, but is at the same time marked by a chronic shortage of workers in many sectors, from healthcare to manufacturing. According to its assessment, Slovenia’s aging population and the declining number of people of working age will, in the long term, lead to an even greater need for foreign labor. At the same time, they highlight key challenges: language, cultural differences, accommodation, and integration into everyday community life.

It is a challenge that extends throughout the country. The Metlika Nursing Home, located about 200 kilometers to the south of Lenart, also found a solution by employing workers from India. 

In the nursing home’s case, however, it was essential for workers to know the Slovenian language because they are in direct contact with elderly residents, director Ivica Lozar explains. After a search process of about five months, selected employees were given the opportunity to learn Slovenian, followed by more extensive training upon arrival. At the same time, steps were taken to prepare existing staff and residents for the changes and to explain why they are necessary.

“It is important to create an open and welcoming environment,” Lozar emphasizes, noting that the local community was also included in the process. The Municipality of Metlika provided housing, and the employees were accommodated in close proximity to the facility. This is a solution that goes beyond employment and addresses the question of genuine integration.

And what were the first responses? Surprisingly unified. Residents, their families, and staff describe the new employees with words such as “kind,” “warm,” and “respectful.”

“Many residents particularly emphasize [the new workers’] human approach,” Lozar says. 

It is a sentiment that works both ways for true integration. 

Back in Lenart, Nagaloor suggests that small overtures could go a long way to help bridge any divides between the imported workers and locals – nothing drastic, just a simple “Where are you from?” or “How are you?”

In the Ovtar24 survey, nearly half of respondents said that more information – and, above all, more contact – would help reduce prejudice. But information does not walk down the street, people do – people who wish not to be feared, and who are ready to share their stories.

Perhaps the morning commute to work holds the key. What might happen if passing glances were replaced with a simple “How are you fitting in?” 


Nina Zorman is a Slovenian journalist covering rural communities, social issues, and local development in northeastern Slovenia. She is the co-founder of Ovtar24, an independent local media outlet focused on community-centred and solutions-oriented journalism.