A day in a life on a construction site
By Johanna Jochim
When you set off to build the fourth-biggest power station in the world, you go through a process of radical transformation. You swap high heels and Italian moccasins for steel-capped boots, tailored shirts for Bob-the-Builder-style checks, and sushi at Orient for ribs at Spur. You trade Sandton’s skyline for chimneys and stacks and give up your capitalist values to enter the communist ‘cabins’ on site where everything from food to chairs and shoes to cars is shared in a very brotherly fashion.
Of course, there’s one thing you cannot leave behind: traffic. But the sunrise over the boilers is a welcome distraction as you wait in line to be breathalysed before entering the construction site.
When you finally arrive in the cabin at 6.20 am, you are greeted by the delicious and comforting smell of freshly brewed coffee: “delicious” because your taste standards are drastically lowered; “comforting” because it is nice to know that someone else had to get up even earlier than you. After grabbing a bite from the Breakfast Buffet (a choice of 15 different cereals tastefully displayed in gigantic plastic boxes) you put on your hard hat and protective glasses and embark on your daily mission to turn the lights on.
By Johanna Jochim
When you set off to build the fourth-biggest power station in the world, you go through a process of radical transformation. You swap high heels and Italian moccasins for steel-capped boots, tailored shirts for Bob-the-Builder-style checks, and sushi at Orient for ribs at Spur. You trade Sandton’s skyline for chimneys and stacks and give up your capitalist values to enter the communist ‘cabins’ on site where everything from food to chairs and shoes to cars is shared in a very brotherly fashion.
Of course, there’s one thing you cannot leave behind: traffic. But the sunrise over the boilers is a welcome distraction as you wait in line to be breathalysed before entering the construction site.
When you finally arrive in the cabin at 6.20 am, you are greeted by the delicious and comforting smell of freshly brewed coffee: “delicious” because your taste standards are drastically lowered; “comforting” because it is nice to know that someone else had to get up even earlier than you. After grabbing a bite from the Breakfast Buffet (a choice of 15 different cereals tastefully displayed in gigantic plastic boxes) you put on your hard hat and protective glasses and embark on your daily mission to turn the lights on.
The ultimate goal is to build a coal-fired power station, but there are a lot of windmills to fight along the way. There may be three times the number of people required, but only half the information – with the exception of those about the latest snake sightings, which are always very detailed and educational. When did construction start? When will it finish? What’s on the critical path? Who's in charge of contract enforcement? Not sure, but we did see a snouted cobra and a spotted puff adder!
As a construction site newbie, you are full of energy and optimism, unconvinced that answers to seemingly simple questions are not easily available. After one day, you realise that it may not be as straightforward as you thought; by the end of the week, you admit that the information may be somewhere but that no one knows quite where or who is in charge.
Fortunately, rather than being discouraged, you are inspired. No weld rates available? No plan for the critical (let alone any other) path? Contractors not communicating? You rise to the challenge: you single-handedly count every weld on site, write your own plan and set up a meeting system that brings contractors together every day to discuss and agree on deliverables. You have impact.
Your great work does not go unnoticed and the client is grateful that bottlenecks now take a couple of hours rather than four days to resolve because key decision makers are actually talking to each other.
Comments like “You've just made my life so much easier” and “This is the first time I actually know what I have to do” are all the motivation you need to continue climbing the 110 metres to the top of the boiler every morning at 7 am and counting the 150 cranes on site – yet again.
Fortunately, rather than being discouraged, you are inspired. No weld rates available? No plan for the critical (let alone any other) path? Contractors not communicating? You rise to the challenge: you single-handedly count every weld on site, write your own plan and set up a meeting system that brings contractors together every day to discuss and agree on deliverables. You have impact. Your great work does not go unnoticed and the client is grateful that bottlenecks now take a couple of hours rather than four days to resolve because key decision makers are actually talking to each other.
Comments like “You've just made my life so much easier” and “This is the first time I actually know what I have to do” are all the motivation you need to continue climbing the 110 metres to the top of the boiler every morning at 7 am and counting the 150 cranes on site – yet again.
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