The Uninvited

on his breath, I suspect the blond-haired,red-skinned Mr Jan de Vries to be one ofthem. His South African accent is verythick. He calls me ‘man’ a great deal,which he pronounces ‘mun’. He is anAfrikaner from Cape Town, he tells me inthe elevator we share to the building site.When it finally comes to a shaking halt onthe thirty-first level of the skyscraper-inprogress,de Vries and I step out on to thefloor where the construction continues.The site is open to the sunlight, with verylittle shade. I count twenty-six very darkskinnedworkers in thin vests and hardhats at work in three separate areas. Manyare small and wiry: Sri Lankan, I guess.Others look more like they are fromPakistan. Eleven are pouring cement andsand into a row of concrete mixers, while