Locked out!

On Monday (12^th October) at 8.30am we all decided to start our week with a run. Disaster was lurking on this tranquil sunlit morning, the streets were quieter than usual as we trotted happily around the park. When we got back to the apartment, the usual discussions took place in the lift, who would shower first, how many Mediluna’s we could eat, and what the rest of the day had in store. As I took my keys to open the door a chilling fear permeated my warm, tired body, I had taken the wrong keys out, and we are locked out! The scenario suddenly unfolds before us, it seemed to be a public holiday (our usual places of help are closed), phone numbers for our friends are inside the flat, no money, one bottle of water between us , we are hungry, tired from a run and no language that can communicate our problem.

This mistake is not a surprise to those who know me well, I like to forget them, bury them, but they come flooding back at times like this and perhaps puts to boot the theory ‘you learn from your mistakes’, I seem to make the mistakes over again, albeit in differing circumstances. When I was 15 I ‘slept’ through a music lesson and when I got home from school realised I was supposed to be playing for the school football team, when I lived with Doug and Belinda Horley I forgot my keys and had to wake Belinda at 4am after trying to sleep in their shed for a couple of hours, and more recently I nearly wrote off Natalie Preece’s car by putting in the wrong fuel. You may have your own special memory!

So we are sitting outside the apartment discussing the ways of getting back in, trying to control our feelings of hopelessness. The first idea was to contact our friends Anibal and Claudia, who lived 10 blocks away. Kaela-J and I walk to theirs, with many scenarios playing through our minds with varying degrees of hope, can we remember where they live, what is the apartment number, and will they be in? Kaela-J was the only one who had visited them and I had only stopped outside a couple of times.

We decided on the block but faced two new hurdles, firstly I knew they were on the second floor, we didn’t know the apartment number. So I begun pressing each number in turn and asking, but again hampered by not understanding the response or recognising any voices. Secondly we had to get into the block so KJ could identify their apartment. One lady wouldn’t let us in, so next time I wouldn’t ask I would just walk past the person (barge if necessary), KJ wasn’t happy with my plan and worried that they would call the police, so we prayed and our hope grew when a kind person let us through without asking anything from us. So we got to their apartment and knocked many times (they usually get up late) but the only person who stirred was the porter for the block. He helpfully confirmed it was Anibal and Claudia’s place and we think he said they were out and he would tell them I called round (alternatively he could have said piss off it’s a bank holiday!), he also gave us Claudia number, and tried calling her with no response, and also let us out of the apartment block (which required a key) and so we left the apartment and headed back to Hayley, Yas and Asia carrying some hope that this saga wouldn’t last the day. When we arrived they seemed to have found some hope themselves despite the hunger and sitting outside our front door for an hour. I admired their patience and strength of character.

We clung to the idea that we could get in touch with our friends. Hayley went out with Yas and Asia who needed the toilet. Hayley had to find someone who spoke English and ask to use their phone and this was accomplished in Starbucks with use of toilets too. No response from Claudia. So hope waned once more, my solitary idea was to make the trip to their apartment every couple of hours and maybe they would return at some point. Asia accompanied me on the next trip, as we passed the last street I spotted their car and given they drive everywhere I had reason to be excited by this sign. We found my way into the apartment block again, knocked again, no answer again, so disturbed the porter for a second time and asked (using charades) for a pen and paper so I could put a ‘Message in the bottle’.

Walking back Asia still seemed full of optimism perhaps I had more to worry about. I said to Asia we will walk past the Education centre one more time (the only other place where we could get help) but like many places today – shut! This detour was perhaps the turning point of this day, as I walked back into our block I met the son of the porter in our block who I had met only a week before and he spoke a little English. I managed to explain the problem and he ushered us to their apartment on the top floor.

The porter was in bed but they said he would help for $50 peso, this seemed like a bargain (£8), he brought tools and our hope all most burst out of us as this coincidental meeting seemed to have brought us close to the end of our troubles. However there was one last trial as the porter struggled to unlock the door, we discovered from our neighbour (whom we had never met but heard the commotion outside) that he would not be able to get break this particular lock. The neighbour had our flat owners number and confirmed the only spare keys were with the cleaner lived 1 ½ hours away and would probably be out (public holiday) – she would usually have come to clean on Monday afternoon. Hope of getting back in was like sand in our hands, until a discussion began about the windows, the porter and neighbour asked if the windows were open. 

We are six floors up and so this had not occurred to me, but our kitchen window is flush with our neighbours and it is the only window we leave open (because of gas boiler) Before I could even consider the safety of climbing from one window to the other the porter had clambered through and within a few moments had opened our front door. Hope flooded back through my veins soothing the rawness of emotion from being thrown by the waves of despair and hope. It was 2.30pm, 5 hours later we sat deciding what to have ....breakfast or lunch! 

This event made me/us realise how comfortable we had become with our surroundings and yet how fragile our circumstances still are. I have learnt about hope and faith, maybe what some would call chance, good luck, fortune, or answered prayer. Which ever you prefer, my faith has grown.