The building code mafia

Not our words but one of the most common descriptors used by our German neighbors and friends.

We do not disagree, though.

Obtaining a building permit here in Germany provides another one of these small windows into the functioning of a state that you cannot get by just looking from a distance.

The process for our project involved the complete replacement of the roof, hence a permit was needed.

A friendly architect made the drawings and provided to up to date load calculations, then the application went to town hall.

It was approved in no time at a cost of zero euros.

The next agency was the county where the code inspectors are. Approval was smooth and cost a whooping 80 Euros. The invoice detailed 2 hours of government time.

The county basically refused to make a big profit off of this.

Next, and this is the interesting part, came the notifications. The county's approval was expected.

The five page form from the semi public agency that insures all construction worker and construction companies was not. Because we had not told them...well, the county had, as it turned out.

They wanted a detailed -- we said 5 pages -- list of all the different work items as well as all companies hired plus all subcontractors and friends and family who would help us.
The two final paragraphs told us that we needed to insure friends and family at a rate of around 7 Euros per person per hour. And they listed the insurance premium for the owner if he intended to perform some of the work himself.

The owner premium was several thousand euros per year, somewhere around 5 grand. And it could not be pro-rated.

OMG.

We learned that the Germans frequently do not bother with any explanation of "if you fail to provide this information, here is what's gonna happen". Very strange, and we are still not used to this.

The blogster has come a long way from being one of these ever helpful, pro-active, socially responsible nerdy types to being that average citizen of today. The kind that lives and breathes the wait and see approach to life.

So, feeling bad about leaving 4 and a half of the 5 pages blank, the blogster gave them name and address and the type of project. Which they requested again in the form despite already listing them in the cover letter.

No friends, no family, no owners insurance -- and send.

Nothing happened.

Until months later, but we are getting ahead of ourselves.

A few weeks later, the chimney sweep showed up for the annual boiler check. That should surprise any American.

Over a cup of coffee after the check, the man said "so, your chimney replacement is all taken care of, I assume".
How did he know about this part of the building permit application?
Yes, the county cc'd him too.

We are now three months down the road. The roof is up and looks great. One lone roofer is here to paint the eves in the Scandinavian blue we chose when we realized that color is permitted these days. That Scandinavian blue is so bright, you could see it from space or from a drone - were it not for the detail that the eaves are covered by the roof tiles.

The only other worker is the blogster, gussied up in old jeans with shredded jeans legs, the whole randomly covered in blobs of white stucco. Yes, including his hair.
The blogster is taking a break, standing in the middle of the street talking to someone when a policeman, a single cop on foot, ambles by, coming from the eastern end of the street, with a brief "hello" and heads to the spot next to the roofer and his paint brush.

They talk for maybe five to ten minutes. The blogster cannot follow the conversation but picks up fragments about the building project, who's working on it as well as something that sounds like a soccer match critique.

The cop then continues down the road to the intersection that forms the western end. A patrolcar pulls up, he gets in, and they disappear.

Thinking "was that what I think it was", the blogster shuffles over to the worker. Who smiles and confirms that the cop had asked all sorts of questions, mainly trying to find who had been working on the project. Having been told that only the roofing company and the owner, that one over there covered in stucco, had done work, he wandered off.

Nothing under the table, folks. Which seems to be what Germans out in the country do: under the table construction.

One more proof that the blogster's long standing motto: when in Rome, DO NOT do as the Romans, is really the best way to run things.