First Farm Work Experience – A Horror Story.
For this story to make any sense, I am going to have to write a bit of a background story.
I am a self taught mechanic and a full time trades worker. At the moment I am travelling Australia and I started looking for farm work to complete the necessary 88 days of rural work to get my second year visa ( its required by the Australia government).
After a couple of weeks of looking and travelling around doing some odd jobs, I finally came across an online ad that fit my skill set. It was to work as a maintenance mechanic and tractor driver on a family owned wheat farm. I applied by email, sending my CV and writing a detailed description of my skills and previous experiences. I mentioned that I was a self taught mechanic and was skilled in many trades like carpentry, welding and sheet metal fabrication. I also wrote that I could operate heavy machinery, which was a little bit of a white lie. I figured if I can drive a big 18 wheeler truck, I could drive anything.
The call I got was from the owner of the farm. He interviewed me in the phone for about 20 minutes and was happy with what he heard. He then proceeded to tell me about himself, his family and his farm. He seemed like a great guy and someone I could potentially learn some skills from. He instantly offered me the job and without hesitation I took it. OH! Did I mention the job was 560 kilometers away from my location? Well it was.
We agreed that I would drive up to the farm on the following Saturday and have the Sunday to settle into the house he provided me with, before starting work on Monday. We also agreed on my wage, which was way below minimum wage for this type of farm work. But because he provided me with accommodation and I could possible learn some useful skills, I agreed to it on the condition that we would renegotiate the pay rate after a 1 month trial period which would give me some time to prove myself and my skills.
I arrived on the week end and the family invited me for a BBQ, sort of a get to know each other dinner. They seemed really nice and I felt that I made a great decision coming to work for them.
The Horrible Work Week.
Monday morning came around and I was starting work. Because it was my first day and the farmer had other things to do than to show me around, he brought me to a field and asked me to pick sticks. (Stick picking is a common task on farms. Farmers often hire backpackers to pick stick from all over the fields to prepare them for seeding but this was not what I was hired for) I had no problem with this and went through most of the day doing this by myself. Near the end of the day the farmer came around to check up on me and gave me a hand. It was not a very eventful day.
On Tuesday morning, he decided to test me. He pulled his farm truck up to his work shop and asked me to give it a full look over. He wanted me to write down what needs servicing and what parts and filter he needs to order for a full service.He then left me alone and went to feed sheep. He was gone for a few hours, which gave me time familiarize myself with an older engine I have never seen or worked on. I cleaned it up and examined all the filters, writing down what needs to be changed. The farmer came back just as I was almost finished. He did not seem impressed with my progress and proceeded to question everything I did in his absence. He then proceeded to ask me random questions about what parts did what, things a farmer that operates and maintains his own equipment should already know. This confused me. Was he asking to test me? or was he really this clueless? I could not tell, so I just answered his questions in the simplest possible way, which brought on even more confusion to his face and more questions.
After lunch, he showed me how to drive his tractor and left me with it to pick sticks once again. He then again joined me on the field and helped me out. About 30 minutes before the end of the day, I tried making conversation by making a comment on how my new boots were hurting my feet. “Do you want to finish early?” he asked me. I hesitated answering at first but figured I will take the offer. He told me to take the ute/pick-up and that he will see me in the morning. As I went to start the ute, it would not start. I got out and popped the hood to try and find the problem. The farmer saw this and made his way to me asking me whats wrong. I told him what has happened and then asked if he has had this issue in the past. Without answering my question, he told me “You’re a mechanic, you should be able to figure this out” Well that’s exactly what I was trying to do. The question I asked, would have been asked by any mechanic. Its good to know the history of the car and to know if its a new or reoccurring problem before trying to fix anything. He then proceeded to mess around with a wire that has been wrapped around the battery terminal. AHA! So this was a problem he knew about, was it so hard to let me know? After spending the next 30-40 minutes trying to fix it himself while ignoring all advice that I gave him while watching (because he would not let me near the problem) we, or should I say HE, got it to work when he finally followed my instructions.
On our way back to the farm he said: ” I think you are not as mechanically minded as you led me to believe..”. ” Why do you say that?” I asked. He started saying that judging by the simple explanations I gave him that morning and by the fact that I could not fix the ute, (which he didn’t let me touch, but fixed with my advice) he came to the conclusion that I lied about my skills to get the job. Pretty much accusing me of being a liar and also saying that I wasn’t doing very well at the job. I told him that I thought I was doing pretty well, since the only real work I’ve done is pick sticks. And boy oh boy did I do a great job of cleaning up that field. He then says: “Well, I never had anyone ask me to finish early on their second day.” WAIT! WHAT?! YOU asked ME if I wanted to finish early. I never asked for it, I just accepted a reasonable offer that was given to me, and I still ended up staying till the end and even longer than I was supposed to, fixing the ute.
Needless to say, that whole conversation discouraged me and made me question if I made the right decision taking this job. I was being underpaid, doing hard work that was not part of the job description and being accused of lying without a chance to prove my skills.
The entire day Wednesday, I again picked sticks. The day was almost uneventful, until he called me and told me to meet him at the farm. Without giving me proper directions, I was asked to drive a ute and trailer packed with chemicals to another lot he had 30-40 kilometers away. I ended up getting lost and taking a while to find my way. I called him for directions. Instead of giving me directions, I got a lecture on wasting his time because he didn’t believe that I got lost and accused me of taking a break. HERE WE GO AGAIN! This happened through out the entire trip there. I had to call him to find out where to turn next because he would only give me parts of directions at a time. When I finally made it there, an hour later, he again questioned why it took me so long to get there, not believing that I got lost. This getting accused of being a liar thing was starting to get really old, so I just ignored the whole lecture as best as I could. That night I started looking into other jobs.
Thursday. He has finally given me a task that involved using my skills. I was to drive the farm truck from its shed to the work shop and give it as best of a service as I could. I went after everything. I greased everything that could be greased. I degreased all the oil leaks and pressure washed the engine and even used an air compressor to clean out the air filters since he told me he was not planning to buy new ones. Then I finally got around to the oil change. I had drained the old oil taking out the sump bolt at the bottom of the oil pan. and took off the old oil filter. This particular old engine had a thing called an oil cleaner. It was an extra system that helped the filter get all the nasty stuff out of the oil. It too needed to be taken off and cleaned. I admit I have never seen one before. They are very outdated and are not used on any of the engines I have worked on. I followed the instructions the truck’s owners manual provided to take it off and then tried to take it apart without success. Not wanting to break it, I left it for later. When the farmer came around, I asked him if he wanted to take a look. It being his truck, I would not feel bad if he broke it while trying to take it apart. He spent about 30 minutes hammering away at it, spilling oil all over the ground and the floor of his garage. He gave up. Told me to just screw it back in and not worry about it. Which is exactly what I did.
He decided to stick around and watch me finish the oil change while again asking me very idiotic questions. As I was priming the oil filter ( filling it with new oil), he asked: “Do you rub some fresh oil on the rubber ring on the filter?” “No, there is no reason to” I replied. “Well I do it. I read somewhere that its necessary” I told him that it is pointless because the place where the filter mount to, already is covered in oil and that it will get on the ring seal. As I said this, he lost it..
He ripped out the filter out of my hand and while applying the oil to the ring started screaming: “WELL THIS IS HOW I DO IT, SO YOU SHOULD TOO!” “YOU’RE IN MY HOUSE, YOU ARE GOING TO DO THINGS AS I TELL YOU TO OR YOU CAN F&CK OFF OUT OF HERE, GOT IT?!?!” I was shocked. I tried to defend myself by justifying why I do it the way I do. Which only made him even more angry. “YOU NEED TO LEARN TO SHUT THE F&@K UP! IM TIRED OF YOU BACK TALKING TO ME! IF YOU DON’T LIKE THE WAY I DO THINGS, YOU CAN F&@K OFF! I HAVE 20 MORE YEARS OF EXPERIENCE THAN YOU! YOU KNOW NOTHING COMPARED TO ME!!” This continued for another 5 minutes, with him telling me to shut my mouth every time I tried to defend myself and telling me to “F” off multiple times. I stopped answering and let him finish his fit. He asked if I was going to do things the way he told me to, to which I just nodded yes. I did not say anything because he was probably going to explode again. After he was done screaming, he threw a rag at me, like at a dog, and told me to clean up the oil he spilled all over the floor while he finished the oil change I started.
Not even 5 minutes in, I heard him screaming. “F&CK! F&CK! F&CK!!” he repeated for about a minute. WHAT DID HE DO NOW?! I slowly made my way outside to see what has happened. He apparently tried to screw in the sump bolt back in when it got stuck. Instead of stopping and maybe trying to take it back out, he decided that it would be a good idea to try and put more pressure on it to force it in. At which point it, he snapped off the head from the bolt. As I had previously assumed earlier that day while looking for the oil leak, the bolt had a crack in it. So when he tried to force it in, the crack got bigger and snapped the bolt. Without hesitation, he turned to me and asked; ” How do we get it out?” OH SO NOW YOU WANT MY EXPERTISE?! I decided not to give him any input. I went back to cleaning up the floor. After all, I was just told that my experience wasn’t worth anything and that I will do things as HE tells me and not the other way around. Fine with me, figure it out yourself.
He decide to weld a big bolt to the old one and screw it out that way. Good. That’s what I would have done. He brought out the welder, set it all up and was ready to weld. By this point I was done cleaning and was watching him since I had nothing else to do. Right before he is about to make his first weld, he looks over at me and asks: ” Do you think this is safe? Is anything going to catch fire?” “Yes, the oil on the floor beside you is a fire hazard. Do you have a fire extinguisher that you want me to get just in case?” I asked. What he said next made me question his intelligence more than anything that has happened so far. ” Oil can catch fire? It won’t explode like petrol right?” I gave him a very blank stare and asked again: “Do you want me to to go get a fire extinguisher?!” “Nah! It’ll be fine!” he answered and went straight to welding.
After welding on the bolt in one spot, he called me over and asked me to get under the truck. He had a question for me. “You’re the expert on welding, How do I weld this bolt on without accidentally welding it to the oil pan?” YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME! The old bolt was sticking out 3/4 of an inch (around 1.5cm) out of the oil pan. The only way you could “accidentally” weld it to the oil pan is if you are blind or have a serious case of Parkinson’s. “Just weld two more welds like you already did on the opposite side of the bolt and it will be enough.” I told him. He proceeded to do exactly that. He screwed out the bolt and called to order a new one.
Since there was nothing more I could do to the truck, he sent me to pick up sticks again and asked me to come see him when I was done my day. The only thing I could think about the entire time I was out in the field, was that I needed to apply for other jobs and get the hell out of there. When I finished, I went by the house. I expected to be fired and was already thinking about where I would drive to next. He came outside, acted like nothing ever happened and started telling me what needed to be done the next day. Which of course started with me picking sticks for the better half of the day and then doing god knows what. I was not paying attention, as I was not really interested in what he had to say.
That evening I spent a lot of time weighing out my options. Do I stay and see where this goes? Or do I look for other work? I decided that I would stay, work the Friday, relax on the week end and see what Monday is like. That decision did not last very long.
Friday morning, I grabbed the ute, went out to the field, feet hurting from the new boots, back aching from the abuse its been taking from bending over and picking up sticks. After about an hour of the same boring task I’ve been doing all week, I got a massive pain in my back and my hip. So bad that I couldn’t even stand straight. That was the final straw. I’M DONE! I grabbed my things, got in the ute and drove back to the house. Nobody was there except the farmers wife, who came out to ask me for my banking information so she could pay me when she went to the city that afternoon. I gave it to her and told her that I would be leaving and that being underpaid by 5$/h to do a job that I wasn’t even supposed to be doing, getting screamed at and treated like crap, wasn’t for me.
I went back to the house that I was staying at, packed my things and was ready to be on my way when I got a call. It was HIM! I couldn’t decide if I should ignore it or answer it. I answered. ” My wife called me and told me you’re leaving. Is the work too hard for you?” “No. I’m leaving because of the incident that happened yesterday” I replied. “Don’t take it personal mate, its just work. It happens.” ” Well if that is how you treat your employees on the first week, I honestly do not want to find out how you treat them later on. Good luck finding someone else.” and I hung up.
I packed my car and drove off. But not before replying to another job listing online. An hour later I got a call back and was offered a similar job 3100 kilometers away. Of course being the adventure seeking, risk taker that I am, I took the job. We will see how this one turns out. Wish me luck.