We and the Germans.

I first saw a German living in 1993. It is strange to remember that time. Remember when every floor was surrounded by 24-hour barracks, which sold Zuko alcohol, snacks and powders, and the prestigious work of a prostitute or a bandit was considered? I know, remember it.

But I did not want to go to the bandits, and when at work they began to often and seriously delay the salary, I quit this job. I hired for construction.

This is an easy retreat.
If anyone remembers, the last director of the USSR, whispering completely, ordered the immediate withdrawal of troops from Germany. The Germans who did not believe in their happiness did not regret the money for this outcome. Then Gorbachev was thrown down, the money was robbed, and forgotten soldiers began to live in Russia, in tents. Slowly running out. Soon after, Yeltsin went to the Germans for help. They woke up, but gave money again. Indeed, they demanded that absolutely all work be presented to German representatives.

And the case ended. In the Russian depths, military towns were built from scratch. My construction was just from this project. Strange, I will tell you, it was construction. The customer - the Ministry of Defense, the contract won "Samsung", built Turks, who then hired Russians, who hired Belarusians, who hired Tajiks... and controlled the Germans. Which I hired. Here are a few things that remain in memory:

1st The sacred silence of the engineering building is violated by the roar of Herr Schilling, an electrical engineer. I can hear him rushing through the corridor, shouting joyful blasphemy. Finally, he enters the room where the building controllers gathered. He is excited, he is happy. He hates Russia with all his heart, and he never misses an opportunity to remind. Here and now he joyfully demonstrates, as he says, the "Rusish theodolit", which he bought for a dollar from the master of the Krasnodar brigade pulling the LEP. This is a rugged gauge hanging on a rope. Shilling is full of joy. This is his day. Shrinking with “shays,” he explains that “these fucking ones” are checking the verticality of the supports. They just hold in front of them on an extended hand a gauge, like a beetle.
Someone is also roaring, the Russians present are uncomfortable. But the elderly builder Dieter suddenly advises Shilling to keep silent. “Claus,” he says, “I saw them this way a week ago. At first I was surprised too. Then he took his theodolit, and in the evening he measured all the pillars they had placed. You will be surprised, but none of the supports goes out of our permissions. Our contract does not require certain means of control, and once so, there is nothing to say about.”

2nd To meet a new engineer from Germany, a car is sent to Moscow with a driver (a Korean from the Uzbek Aula) and a translator girl (an air creation that has just finished a ped). They come back late at four o’clock. The German seems to be somewhat overwhelmed. Later, after learning, he tells: “This was my first visit to Russia. Every impression was shocking. Sheremetyevo, toilets, garbage, Moscow, unbarred dirty people, larks... Then six hours of driving on your terrible roads. Then the car struck. We stood alone between a field and a forest. by night. Your driver opened the hood and seemed terribly surprised to see the motor there. Time passed, and he was all standing, smoking, and sometimes knocking his shoe on the wheel. Sometimes, for diversity, he pulled the wires. I really froze. I was scattered. And then happened what finally got me. This girl of you, who had been trying to distract me all this time in terrible German, suddenly got out of the car, approached the driver, talked, swallowed, and became herself, using the Swiss Army knife that was in her bag, to spin something in the motorcycle. At the same time, she lit a small lamp, which also found itself in her cosmetic bag. In an hour we went. When she came back into the car and saw my mouth open, she said the carburetor was stuck. Her dad has the same Niva, and very often, when she rides on her, she has to clean the jikler. He added, “Bensin is full of shit.”

Three Due to a mistake in the contract, it turns out that no one can carry out finishing work in a small building. The deadline is not tolerated. You need to find blood from the nose. There is nothing to do, I go to the neighboring town of Elena. There – for joy – I find a whole brigade of builders. I offer a shabby. In the coming weekend. Everyone is refusing. Reasons: to plant potatoes, name of brother, fishing... I explain again. “Girls,” I said, “I’ve spent three months in the construction team. I see the volume. I need three or four people. for two weekends. We provide transportation, tools, materials, and even lunches. I learned that you have been sitting without work and without a salary for the fourth month. In two weeks you will get it in six months. Enough for potatoes and gifts. So what?” and pause. Then somebody lazyly refuses, “No, brother, don’t fight. You have to lose two days.”

4 is No one likes the German architect. He looks like a quiet and polite grandfather. That kind voice explains that the marriage will not miss. And stands on its own. Everyone is listening to him. Especially after he refused to accept the foundation of the substation, and the contractor spit on the inspection, and still built the building. The station stood for several months. Even military contractors pressed on Matera, convincing them that everything was okay. But he blinked with blue eyes behind the thick glasses and patiently repeated, “This is poor quality. It will be difficult for you to fix it.” As a result, the contractor was replaced, the building was broken, the foundation was rebuilt, and a new one was erected.
So, one day at the reception of the first of the residential houses he ordered to pour in the bathrooms two bins of water, then sealed the entrance, and came in the morning to watch the flow on the ceilings. They were running. Mother quietly asked to repair the water insulation in the whole house. The brigadier, a healthy Belarusian, after losing patience, began to scream at the "unfortunate fric, who was stuck with his fascist rules" and went on to fight. Strangely enough, the German understood a few words. “First, I’m not a fascist, I’m an Austrian Jew,” he said, “and if women turn away, I’ll show you the proof. And if you brush your teeth, I’ll let you try it.
As far as German rules are concerned, you are mistaken. You cannot reach them. Absolutely everything, I demand from you, is your own building rules. Please read the SNIP sometimes.”