Until now, most jobs I have done have been either as lunch lady, or doing random things in the cold. None of the work has been truly heavy work. I have yet "laboured".
That changed last week when the girl at the temping agency asked me if I was strong.
Come on lady! You don't ask a guy if they are strong. I wouldn't ask a girl if she was pretty! Show some tact! Ask me if I have a back problem. Ask me if I have a medical condition that prevents me from heavy lifting. Don't just come out and ask me if I'm a poofter.
Look, I know I am not the strongest-looking guy, but if I worked out a little bit, I would quickly turn into He-man. Really. (according to face-recognition technology, the celebrity I most closely resemble is Dolph Lungdren. Yes, He-man.
I know it's uncanny. So a few days later, I showed up to the address they had given me. It was a big swanky hotel, in the middle of nowhere. I mean, it was in Holland, so it is a 10 minute drive from every major Dutch city, but relatively, this was nowhere. They weren't expecting me, and the only piece of information I was able to tell the receptionist was "They asked me if I was strong".
Why was she laughing?
Eventually, I found my boss for the day- he wasn't very big, but my 3 co-workers were. Within a few minutes, one of them busted up his hand-bleeding so much that I felt dizzy- and he didn't seem to care.
The task for the day was to set up a "tribune" for a "congres". This shows either my improving Dutch or declining English, because I have no idea how to translate that. There was to be a large conference at this hotel, about experimentation in media. I don't really understand what it was about, but I couldn't help but notice this poster:
If you are wondering, "met" means "with". I know, awesome.Our team had to build a large structure for the seating- like a small grandstand. Well, "small"... We first unloaded 3 truck-trailers full of equipment. Pipes and boards and boxes, and trolleys and thingamabobs. And we began the task of putting them all together, creating a multi-leveled grandstand-type thing. There was a lot of lifting and screwing. Using tools. Lying on the ground. Sweating. Panting. Compared to the other student work I have done which was always cold, this was hot work. I must say, I quite enjoyed it. After seven hours, I was exhausted.
There were also a teams of lighting and sound technicians, and they had to keep working. The project manager, however, told everyone to take a break and come have some food. Now, my boss has signed my pay slip already, and I was supposed to go home. However, the inner student in me asked if I could join for dinner.
That was the best question I have ever asked. (It tops "Don't snow ploughs get sad when it is summer?")
We got led to the hotel restaurant, and we could order off the guest menu. (The one where the price isn't stated. Yes, awesome). We had bread rolls with dipping olive oils, multi-leaf salads, and the main course was a guinea fowl. That's like a tiny, delicious chicken- and we all got to eat a whole one each. There is nothing like eating an entire animal.
And, the best thing for after a day of labour: beers (in the plural). Sure, I would wake up the next morning feeling 40 years older, but this was a great day to be a labourer.
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