Uzbek people are strange. They just want to work, for example, we wait for the crane, we need to raise 40 15-meter boards on the roof, we folded them carefully on the bottom, climbed to the roof. No crane, I’ll tell you in an hour. Okay, full of other work, but no, prorab went to the city, left for the elderly one Jamsut, he ores to pick up in the hand! How many of his Russians (I and Serega) did not convince me that it was still necessary to pull the dome, tie the armor, etc. No, he’s stuck, I need to raise the boards. Ok to Ok. One person from the bottom breaks out our careful stack, carries it to the other end of the building and binds it, two people from the top lift the rope with the board. And so for an hour. As a result, on the thirteenth board came the crane, threw the remaining ten boards in a minute and left. The Uzbek people never understood why I was crying and laughing.