This is one of the two guys who were working on my basement slab. (There’s a lot of time sitting around waiting for the concrete to set before the next step.) When I introduced myself and he told me his name, I didn’t catch it all. To my citified ear, there were about three vowels and maybe an extra consonant in the first syllable. He kindly repeated it and I finally understood.
These men who are building my house are (so far, anyway) unfailingly polite, friendly, helpful, and patient. They explain what they’re doing, make suggestions of things I might not have considered, and reassure me that everything’s going according to plan. I trust them and respect their skill. I ask them to please let me know if I’m in any fashion bothering them or getting in the way, because the last thing I want to do is be a nuisance or slow things up unnecessarily.
I love that I’m learning something new about dwellings almost every day. It’s one of civilization’s mostly invisible yet fundamental enterprises. In combination, the real estate class and my homebuilding project are adding a whole new layer of understanding to the way I look at the constructed landscape and the people who make it happen.