Text: Maryla Adamčíková, Pavel Mrkva | Photo: Lukáš Duspiva
In today’s interview, Mr Pavel Mrkva describes his many years of personal experience and work motivation, openly admitting that he had a tendency to leave his job due to burnout and the need to make a change in his professional life. However, the offer of flexibility to work on a different machine and the opportunity to teach newcomers on the existing machine gave him a new impetus.
A motorcyclist at heart, Mr Pavel emphasises that work is part of life and he tries to do it honestly. Are you interested in where and with whom he likes to travel?

Pavel, today you work at FINIDR in Building B, as we call it, by the river. The former Prochaska printing house was also your previous place of work, twenty years ago.
Yes, I originally came from the Těšínská printing house, which I joined in 2005, and I was invited to FINIDR to restart production on binding line 4, where they were having troubles with training new employees.
At that time, I had already been working elsewhere for a few months. When the Těšínská printing plant closed, I properly ended my employment, but people who knew me recommended me, and while I was employed elsewhere, I also trained machine operators at FINIDR B.
Was it your heart?
When I left Těšínská tiskárna, I did shed a tear, and when someone from FINIDR asked me to train people there, I liked the idea. What’s more, the training offer at FINIDR B was only during the morning shifts. The offer to transfer from Těšínská to FINIDR involved switching to 12-hour shifts, two days of work and two days off, which was unimaginable for me at the time because I had a little son and my wife also worked shifts. That’s why I didn’t take the job at first. But now, as far as family life is concerned, the shifts are easier to cope with.
What convinced you, Pavel, to return to polygraphy?
Although I was originally trained as a chef /waiter, I was attracted by the work itself, and the financial payoff was also more interesting.
As part of the restart, I also started working on binding line No. 3 at FINIDR A. The machine is more modern and newer, so I trained on it. The original idea was that I would fill in for the machine operator in case of an absence. But after about three months, they needed me on binding line No. 4 in building B, so I moved to B. Normally, we work two shifts here, but during the Christmas market, we work three or even four shifts, which is why they wanted me back here.
How do you feel in the place where you once started your professional career?
I’m at home, I would say.
I’m used to the environment, and I feel good here. I feel better in the B team. For the last six months, I’ve been working on both the binding line and the gluing as well. They wanted someone who would be flexible enough to work on both lines as needed.
But to tell you the truth, I was tempted to quit a year ago. I was back in the same old rut and started to feel burned out after my return. Not because FINIDR is bad. I think everyone should change careers at least once in their life. And I was attracted to that change. I wanted to be a train driver, but unfortunately, that didn’t work out.
The job offer on the production line was a new impulse for me at FINIDR, and I am currently enjoying it more. I would like to inspire people with this. It’s not that I was thinking about leaving for good, but rather about the opportunity to learn something new. To be honest, I also owe for this to Martin Raiskub, who monitors, strengthens, and resolves relationships here at FINIDR B. He is the one who has this idea.
He saw that Pavel wasn’t feeling good here, so he decided to do something about it. From the beginning, he has been the right person to bring people together, give advice, guide them, and know what to do and how to do it. And even though I am, to quote him, “a difficult person to manage,” I believe he is glad to have me there.
I also must be able to work with people. As a team worker, I wouldn’t get very far on my own; the team must function as a one. But I only came to this realization at this age. I used to be more of a lone wolf.
How did you handle the new challenge?
I was thrown into production after more than a month on the line, and I’m still learning and will be for a long time. It takes years to gain the experience to become a pro. I’ve been there since around April this year. But I still go to train new colleagues on the binding line, time to time one of them comes to ask for advice on how to do something, or I go there for a moment to help. I still alternate between the two machines. Basically, I’m supposed to be a mentor for new suspension operators, helping them and improving their skills. I enjoy the variety.
What slows you down?
I understand that it is necessary to have clear rules in such a large company. However, I don’t like some of the rules, or I think they are unnecessary. For example, filling in downtime sometimes slows me down. I would look at the result at the end of the shift, what the person did, and not how they did it. If I need to add something, I add it. I devote myself fully to my work so that it is done quickly and correctly. But not everyone at FINIDR is like me. If they were, there wouldn’t need to be so many rules. Not everyone goes to work because they want to, but because they have to. That’s not my case. Work is part of life, and I’ve always tried to do it well and honestly, and that’s what has brought me the most in life, including in my private life. However, I understand the saying, “If you don’t measure, you don’t manage.”
As an example, I can mention that my wife and I managed to build almost the entire house ourselves while working. I am from Těšín and have lived here on the corner since birth, paradoxically above a bookstore. Now we have a house in Střítež. But I am still from Těšín, I have always felt that way.
Pavel, what are your hobbies?
I’m a motorcyclist. When I was eighteen and got my driver’s license, I only got it for motorcycles. I started on a Jawa, then moved on to faster and more powerful bikes. I had a high-revving machine, a Japanese racing motorcycle. But then came relationships, family, and motorcycling took a back seat for about ten years. Two years ago, however, I treated myself and bought another single-track machine. It’s more of a leisurely ride now. I’m a technical type, I like to tinker with motorcycles, and I can even do simple repairs on my car at home, I enjoy it. My son has other interests, as is often the case with young people today, so he’s not very keen on being cooped up in the garage with me. That doesn’t mean I don’t kick a ball around with him sometimes or go for bike rides with the whole family. Working in the garden and around the house is also part of my free time.

Where do you most often ride your motorcycle?
Most often? Around the chimney, so to speak. We have various routes that we ride repeatedly, some of which are 200 km long and pass through mountains and forests. Last time, I was with my brother in the Krušné hory mountains. My brother is also a motorcyclist, and he actually got me into it at an early age.
How did you spend your summer, Pavel?
This year, I went on vacation with my family to Montenegro, on our own, by car, and it was a bit of a struggle. The plan was to drive to northern Croatia, spend the night there, and drive along the coast the next day, but due to traffic jams, we turned onto the highway and decided to drive south faster.
My wife and I don’t like being tied down to one place – a hotel, a beach, and nothing else. We like to sit down together, look at maps to find nice places, and choose something. I don’t like stereotypical vacations; I like it when something different happens every day. This year’s 1,350 km one way in the car was really exhausting, and driving through Bosnia and Herzegovina at night, for example, is quite an experience. Long darkness, deep forests, and no gingerbread house in sight really make you feel uncertain behind the wheel.
However, we went to Montenegro because my wife and I had spent our first vacation together there, and after thirteen years we wanted to see the same place again. Our hotel, one of best hotel in location that time, was now overshadowed by modern hotels. But the nature there is still beautiful.

What is your dream motorcycle trip and what was your longest motorcycle trip?
There are many dream trips. As you know, everything today is about financial possibilities and time. I would definitely be tempted by the “Mother of All Roads,” Route 66 in America, or an adventurous trip south to the sea with friends, with just a few things in my pocket. However, the main dream is always to return home in one piece, and for that, you have to constantly think about staying on track. I haven’t been on a trip covering thousands of kilometers somewhere in the Balkans. A touring motorcycle is more suitable for that, as you won’t get so tired on the way. Quality can bring more than quantity. So even an hour in the saddle here on local routes can clear your head as much as you need. It’s not the destination that’s important, but the journey itself.
Now that summer is behind us, we are fully focused on the Christmas market. We are launching new technologies at your B building, and we need new people, so we are keeping our fingers crossed that everything goes well.
I am pleased with Mr. Drahoš’s approach to Building B. I appreciate that he is continuing the tradition and that the premises of the former Těšínská printing house have been used for the same purpose for almost 220 years. I like that he is investing and that he cares. I appreciate that there are no Vietnamese vendors or apartments here, for example. I also like how he runs the company as a whole.
Pavel, I wish you and all Finidraks good luck in the main season. Thank you for the interview.

Pavel Mrkva
Zodiac sign: Capricorn
What do I value most in my colleagues?
When they enjoy their work, cooperation, good mood, and smiles
Who is my role model?
My father, when he was still alive… now I want to be a role model myself
What can surprise me?
A phone call from FINIDR
What is my dream motorcycle trip?
Route 66 in America.
My longest motorcycle trip was:
It’s not the destination that matters, but the journey itself.





