15-VII-1986.: The dig

We are digging the basement. As a part of the legalization process, we had to have an atomic shelter, either to pay for our share of the space in the local community building (i.e. community center), 1km away, or build our own. In a fit of (in)sanity, we decided for the latter, calculating that while they would cost roughly the same, for our own we wouldn't have to fork the cash right away. We were already running thin since we paid for the rest of the dues, plus the 700.000 dinars fine for starting an illegal building.

So we showed the commission, when they came to survey the lot, that we have started the basement. Which was just about a 2m, one shovel line at that moment. And it was obviously behind the future house's foundation, and I said it will be 4x9 m... all the same, they wrote that it will be under the whole house, so charged us with 99 square meters instead of 36 of it. We later added the garage, as we're already paying that much...

This summer we started digging for real. I'd take the škodilak with the little trailer, load the shovel, spade, wheelbarrow and a 10l canister (no water, we'd pump it at Faik's across the street. First few carts of soil went to the place where the main door will once be, and then started pouring it over the concrete into the foundation. When we got to about 1,4m deep it was full plus some (I figured it wold settle a bit). Then changed the unloading site to make a little hill as the extension of the basement's northeast wall, so once we move, the kids would have a sled course. Visionary, eh... it wasn't for the kids we had in mind, but for the next one, and grandchildren. But that was kind of far away at the time.

Why 9x4 when 3x4 would be enough for a shelter? Well, we didn't have a floorplan yet. The plan I bought was for a four little appartments facing the sea, for tourists - completely wrong except its size has fit our lot. So we ditched the plan and started thinking of a new one, but had to start digging before we finished drawing. We didn't know where we'll put the terrace door (assuming there will be a terrace on top of the shelter), left right or middle, so in that fit of wisdom we said "well, put it everywhere, can't miss that way".

Dad was helping some, about every third time. There was talk in the neighborhood about "the crazy professor digging his own pool". Everyone seemed to wish they will live in a fancy neighborhood.

While we were digging, Faik's daughters would line up on the edge and watch us. We'd find a frog, fallen in overnight, and they would come up with some explanation, based on their legends, why that is good luck. Then we'd keep digging and then have a break, drink a liter of tepid water each (better than cold when you're digging!) and then, just to be polite, tried to talk with them.

- do you go to school? - she asked the oldest girl.

- no, dad won't let me, they put me in that school near the foundry, he says that is too far. I finished three grades before we came here.

- well you should be in school

And then she didn't finish the sentence. What could she say? Finish the elementary so you can go to high school and then go to college to be a doctor like me or a professor like my husband, so you can dig your own basement. "Duh" wasn't invented yet, too bad.

The škodilak bore most of the brunt of the construction. I used to say "if it could speak, it would kill me". The unfinished ground floor house belonged to the doctor who sold us the lot. It's still not finished, not a brick was added since, only it's jungle now. The space is now filled with houses. The place where she stands is now the garage door. The car's left wheels are either on the lot border, or at the neighbor's.

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Mentions: 12-XII-2024., Faik Rizvani, škodilak, in serbian

16-XII-2019 - 31-X-2025