Recycling (2)

Back to recycling: That company had 3 sites; 2 in Germany and 1 in France. Headquarter was Germany. Those sites were the dirtiest places I have seen so far in my life. There was not even any concrete to walk on, but only mud and even more mud. I know now what it must have been like in the middle ages when there was nothing like that existing. Obviously, as it was February or March, it was bucketing it down in all those 2 weeks. My black suit was to be thrown.

First week was in Germany, second one in France. In both I did a brown paper with the plant manager and supervisor about their processes. The German one was easy, the French one was quite a challenge. I will never ever forget Monsieur Bréton when he explained that process to me. My first ever Frenchman I spoke to more than the usual holiday “bonjour, ca va?”-conversation. He whisteled and threw his hand up all the time when he tried to transmit a “Whatever! Does this face look bovvered?”-message. It took me years to figure out that this is quite a French feature. An adorable one though.

This analysis went on for a while, but I was called off and sent to another one.