Concrete honeymoon

One foggy September morning, while drinking my coffee in our garden I messaged my husband: “I want some training, once we come to money, I need to get properly educated!”
Half an hour later: “This guy looks great, a total “lumberjack”, just like you.”
After another hour when he hasn’t written back: “I wrote him about the next free training dates. Looks good. ”

A few months later:
We arrived at the airport after midnight, sick and tired as hell, after a half-day flight, jetlag. The morning after was hard. Frozen snow. Empty streets. Winter.
The first day was enchanting. In a state of total exhaustion and at the same time excited from the guy’s shop and the tools, his mixer, the plasticity of the concrete mix we have never seen before, and me personally I have managed to make a perfect sink mold.
Simple life. Smell of fastfoods, huge pick-ups (I really want one!!!), small houses, shopping centers, town surrounded by hills and lakes… We could do some evening skiing, he said. I admit, I knew in long before that we will not get anywhere. All we did was couple longboard rides in front of the shop.
Every day, exactly at noon – lunch and beers. One. Two. Three. Depending on our mood. After lunch, liquer store, couple sixpacks in the back of the pick-up, back to the shop.
A guy is coming to help and he pulls our strings with his dry sense of humor. They argue a lot, and we are laughing inside quietly.
Computations, blending, pouring, wet grinding, wet clothes despite the aprons, wet hair, cement in the hair. It’s cold outside, around zero degrees. Surface finishing, wood cutting for other forms, precision, concentrating. First IPA, APA, we test all kinds of beer. Still sick, still having a jetlag, we’re going to break it, beer helps. Music is playing all the time, the guy is a huge music addict. Great atmosphere, deep and shallow conversations about life, about concrete, about business, about everything and nothing … We feel like we belong here. We enjoy every second, physical work makes us feel good. At night we wake up many times, jetlag.
Bending concrete, vertical pouring, dying techniques, additives, protection overall while working with acids.
A visit to the ski resort, dinner with our teacher and his incredibly charming wife, hamburger, fish & chips on a bar made of (his) concrete, some more beers.
The resort is a fairy tale, snow, children skating on ponds, light, lights everywhere, we feel like Christmas, even if it’s January. Cosy cottages, snow crunching under our feet, minus 10 degrees. We fall asleep on the way back.
Fatigue is ever present, but we don’t want to give up, we have only such a short time here. We haven’t even see the pool and wellness at the hotel.
Our stomachs react weird. From the illness, from the diet. For breakfast we have an obligatory coffee from the aeropress (he has brought his blend and dish, I quote “I will not drink that hotel shit”), orange juice and bagel with Philadelphia, that sits all day long in my stomach like a stone.
After lunch break, the shop gets busy with visits of friends, drinking beer… Our teacher yells at them not to drink up all his beers, he bought them some cheap ones, they are in the fridge. They are smoking, hanging around, making jokes, so curious of the two weirdos from Euurope. I’m laughing quietly, I’m laughing out loud, arguing with the guy if the concrete needs more white, I’m arguing with my husband (“put some nose protection on”, “did you measure the weight right?!”, “get out of my way”, “glue it right”, “see, here the mold is not even enough”); the dude is having fun, he opens up another beer.
No, we’re not alcoholics. Beers are 0,33l and we drink moderately, smoothly, we had heavy lunch (hamburger, tortilla, fish & chips). After arriving home I live on lentils and lettuce for over a month.
We are provoking each other, having fun, breaking hardened concrete plates.
We poured kitchen boards, desks, sinks, lamps, benches, exchanged our lives and left with an incredible feeling. The feeling of meeting someone who is on the same wave, lives for his work, loves his family and friends and has our sense of humor. And is really passionate about giving his 20-year experience further. Another country where we would not hesitate to stay …

 

 

V jedno hmlisté septembrové ráno s kávou na terase čumím do záhrady a píšem manželovi: „Žiada sa mi nejaký tréning, až raz prídeme k peniazom, potrebujem sa poriadne dovzdelať!”

Pol hodinu nato: “Tento týpek vyzerá super, aha úplný “lambrdžek”, ako ty.”

Keď mi ani po hodine neodpisuje: “Písala som mu, kedy má najbližší voľný termín. Vyzerá to nádejne.”

 

Pár mesiacov neskôr:

Dorazili sme na miesto, totálne rozbití, chorí, po poldňovom lete, po pol noci, jetlag, ráno bolo temné. Zmrznutý sneh. Posolené ulice. Zima.

Prvý deň bol čarovný. Potácali sme sa medzi stavmi totálneho vyčerpania a extázy z týpkovej dielne a náradia, jeho parádnej miešačky, plastickosti betónovej zmesi, a ja osobne z parádnej formy na umývadlo, ktorá sa mi podarila.

Taký ten typický život. Vône fastfoodov, obrovské pick-upy (hrozne chcem taký!!!), malé domčeky, obchodné centrá, okolo kopce, jazerá, vraj by sme mohli zadelit nejaké večerné lyžovanie. Nadšene súhlasím, dopredu viem, že sa nikam nedostaneme. Ale sme si aspoň zalongboardovali pred dielňou.

Každý deň presne o dvanástej obed a pivo. Jedno. Dve. Tri. Podľa nálady. Po obede návšteva likerstoru, sixpacky na korbu pick-upu, návrat do dielne.

Prichádza týpek pomocník a brnká nám na strunu svojim suchým humorom. Vkuse do seba ryjú, a my sa len ticho bavíme.

Výpočty, miešanie zmesí, vylievanie, mokré brúsenie, prezliekanie do suchého napriek zásterám, mokré vlasy, cement vo vlasoch. Vonku okolo nuly. Povrchové úpravy, rezanie dreva na ďalšie formy, presnosť, sústredenie. Prvá ipa, apa, testujeme všetky druhy piva. Stále nie sme fit, stále máme jetlag, prerazíme to, pivom. Celý čas v dielni hudba, týpek je blazon do hudby. Namakaná atmosféra, rozhovory o živote, o betóne, o biznise, o všetkom a o ničom… sadli sme si. Cítime sa, že sem patríme. Užívame si každú sekundu, fyzická námaha nám robí dobre. V noci sa budíme, jetlag.

Ohýbame betón, vertikálne vylievanie, techniky farbenia, aditíva, skafander pri práci so žieravinami.

Návšteva lyžiarskeho strediska, večera s týpkom a jeho neskutočne príjemnou ženou, hamburger a fish & chips na barovom pulte z (jeho) betónu, ďalšie pivá. Po ceste zaspíme.

Stredisko je rozprávka, sneh, deti na korčuliach na rybníku, svetielka, svetielka všade, cítime sa ako na vianoce, aj keď je január. Chalúpky, vrzgot snehu pod nohami, mínus 10.

Únava je večne prítomná ale nechceme sa jej poddať, sme tu krátko. Ten bazén a wellness  v hoteli sme ani nevideli.

Krúti nám črevá. Aj zo stravy. Na raňajky obligátna káva z aeropresu (máme vlastný blend a nádobíčko, citujem “nebudem piť tie hotelové sračky“), pomarančový džús a bagel s Philadelphiou, ktorý mi sedí celý deň v žalúdku ako kameň.

Do dielne sa postupne trúsia týpkovi kamoši, pijú mu pivo, on im za to nadáva, že nech mu nepijú jeho ipy, tam im kúpil v chladničke lacáky. Pofajčievajú, obsmŕdajú. Smejem sa do seba, smejem sa nahlas, hádam sa s týpkom, že ten betón potrebuje viac bielej, hádam sa s manželom (“daj si rúšku!”, “navážila si to dobre?!”, “nezavadzaj!!”, “lep to poriadne!”, “aha, tu ti to uteká…”) a týpek sa dobre baví, a otvorí si ďalšie pivo.

Nie, nie sme alkoholici. Pivá su tretinkové a popíjame striedmo, plynule, máme základ z obeda (hamburger, tortilly, fish & chips). Po príchode domov mesiac žijem na šošovici a šaláte.

Provokujeme a hecujeme sa navzájom, lámeme vytvrdnuté platne.

Vyliali sme kuchynské dosky, stoly, umývadlá, lampy, lavičky, vymenili sme si navzájom  svoje životy a ostal hrozne dobrý pocit. Pocit zo stretnutia s človekom, ktorý je na našej vlne, žije pre svoju prácu, miluje svoju rodinu a kamarátov a má náš zmysel pre humor. Vidno, že ho neskutočne baví predávať svoje 20-ročné skúsenosti ďalej. Ďalšia krajina, kde by sme neváhali ostať…