Seven years ago, when Nguyen Van Bau, then 19, walked into a hotel in Bad Windsheim, Bavaria, his job was not to work at the front desk. Instead, he was sent to deliver bread to his boss’s house or clear broken tiles from holiday apartments during the pandemic.
“I felt like cheap labor,” said Bau, now 26.
At a hospital in Leipzig, Thu Trang, 23, also went through a difficult period when she first arrived.
“Because I was a foreigner, some colleagues pushed tasks outside my professional scope onto me and refused to show me how to do things. When no one else was around, they would glare at me, bully me and deny me learning opportunities,” Trang said.
Bau and Trang are among more than 16,000 Vietnamese students pursuing vocational training, or Ausbildung, in Germany, according to the 2024 Migration Report. Many have had to find their own ways to overcome financial and language barriers as well as toxic working environments in order to reclaim their position and change their circumstances.
Nguyen Van Bau, 26, currently works at an X-ray imaging center in Bavaria, Germany. Photo: Supplied by the subject.
Behind the Vocational Training Ticket
In 2019, Bau’s family spent 7,500 euros (around VND 220 million) on agency fees and another 11,300 euros (more than VND 330 million) on German-language training, accommodation and proof of financial means.
“My parents told me it was an advance inheritance,” Bau said. “With such a large amount of money invested, failure meant there was no way back.”
Although German law requires companies hosting trainees to provide professional training, Bau was assigned manual labor and paid less than 5 euros an hour, roughly half the minimum wage. He was also regularly shouted at and insulted by his employer.
After being warned that he was being exploited, Bau began studying German labor laws. With the help of a hospitality industry trade union, he filed a lawsuit against his former employer for forcing trainees to make up working hours during peak periods, and won the case.
In 2022, he moved to another hotel, where he received proper vocational training.
A year later, Bau graduated with excellent results, was promoted to shift supervisor and earned three times his previous salary.
“The biggest change wasn’t my salary, but the way I carried myself at work. I was no longer someone who simply endured things and filled gaps,” he said.
Meanwhile, Thu Trang chose her school herself before looking for an agency, joining a state-supported program with intermediary costs of around 4,000 euros (VND 120 million).
She began her training in June 2024 and was the only Vietnamese student in her nursing class at Leipzig University Hospital. The program was demanding: after one semester, only 15 of the original 30 students remained.
Trang said her colleagues spoke quickly and used a large number of specialized terms, while subjects such as medical ethics required her to study much more deeply.
To keep up with the curriculum, she always carried a notebook in her uniform pocket to record unfamiliar terminology and medical equipment. Before each lesson, she would study Vietnamese-language materials and then translate them back into German to keep pace with the academic content.
“You cannot simply do things blindly in healthcare. Even when a patient dies, nurses have to learn how to communicate about it, because only a doctor has the authority to determine whether someone has died,” she explained.
As her German improved, she began saying “no” to requests that violated regulations.
“I learned that in this environment, speaking up is what earns you respect,” Trang said.
Nguyen Thi Loan shows her certificate for passing Germany’s naturalization test (Einbürgerungstest), May 2024. Photo: Supplied by the subject.
Taking Control of Their Lives
In 2024, Bau and two colleagues founded a company that helps young people move to Germany for vocational training without charging them recruitment or placement fees.
They receive 5,000 euros from German companies for each worker recruited and require applicants to have at least a B1 German-language certificate, or an A2 certificate combined with strong communication and problem-solving skills.
“We focus on practical ability — how well applicants understand what they hear and how they respond when problems arise — rather than relying entirely on certificates,” Bau said.
In reality, language barriers are also a major factor putting Vietnamese trainees in a vulnerable position.
According to Christopher Gnadt, a lecturer at the University of Vechta in Germany who has more than 10 years of experience managing and recruiting staff for nursing homes, young Vietnamese people need to change two core factors if they want to avoid becoming disadvantaged workers: their language skills and their attitude toward hierarchy.
“German employers do not expect an employee who simply knows how to obey. Being timid and reluctant to ask questions is often seen as a lack of competence,” he said.
The journey of Nguyen Thi Loan, over 30, a nurse in North Rhine-Westphalia, demonstrates how language barriers can be overcome.
Born into a poor family in Soc Son District, Hanoi, she earned a place in a German vocational training program at low cost thanks to her strong academic performance at university.
She is now a practical training instructor (Praxisanleiterin) at four elderly care facilities and also runs a support hotline for Vietnamese trainees.
Alongside her main job, Loan helps her husband recruit Vietnamese workers for Germany and operates an SOS hotline for trainees facing difficulties with their studies, work or integration.
Despite having established a solid position for herself, Loan admits that she once experienced discrimination because of her language skills.
Doubts from her supervisors about her German proficiency caused her to withdraw and question her own abilities. The turning point came when she met her husband and began communicating more with his family, as well as local parents and teachers.
Her life gradually expanded beyond the Vietnamese community. German was no longer simply a subject she studied; it became part of her everyday life.
Eight years after moving to Germany, Loan is no longer the young woman who was brought there simply to perform manual labor.
“I now have a voice and the power to decide my own future. That is what true integration means,” she said.
Loan’s journey is also the path Thu Trang is following. She plans to complete her training before deciding whether to pursue surgical assistance, anesthesiology and intensive care, or become a medical practical training instructor.
“My philosophy in life is that once I have a goal, I have to keep going until I reach it, even if I have to crawl,” she said.
Source: VnExpress
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