Not a Claustrophobic

I’m glad I wasn’t a claustrophobic, because I got trapped in an elevator this afternoon. Perhaps I shouldn’t be writing about it because it’s down right embarrasing (it’s my fault not to notice how the elevator works), but what the hey, this should me my first – and hopefully last – experience of getting stuck inside an elevator.


Here's Sadia!

It happened in an apartment in Oude Delft. I went to visit another Tita (no, really), a Malaysian whom I knew only from exchanging emails and blogs. Tita, her husband and their 7-months-old daughter Sadia arrived in the The Netherlands several weeks ago; due to her husband starting an MA program at TU Delft this semester. So we finally got to meet each other in person! The visit was pleasant, baby Sadia smiling a lot and being very friendly (seems like she springs and bounces everytime she gets the chance). Their apartment is on the 2nd floor (that’s counting the ground floor as “ground” floor, not 1st floor). I wonder if there’s an elevator in this old building, considering them having a buggy and suitcases and all. There is one, that I was shown (and tempted to use) when I was leaving their apartment. Then it happenned.

I didn’t notice that, in order to go to the ground floor, you have to push the “0” button and hold it down until you reached the ground floor. This manner is written in big, bold letters above the buttons (in Dutch, duh). Well, I didn’t notice that. Instead, I did what I am used to: push the button down for some seconds and then let go. The elevator got stuck rightaway, after descending for about 20-30 cm. The door couldn’t be opened, no button worked anymore, and even the telephone inside the elevator was dead.
It’s really helpful that there is a window at the elevator door, so we could communicate quite well (sounds travel without problem). Tita and her husband were trying to get help by calling the supervisor of the building, but there was no answer. I also get them the telephone number of the elevator company that was attached inside the elevator, next to the (currently dead) telephone. During the wait to get help, Tita stood outside the door, sometimes carrying Sadia who was smiling and bouncing all the time, making a conversation with me. Wanna know what we talked about? Unecessary stuff like Inul and Siti Nurhaliza!

I wasn’t panicking or anything, and I thought the air circulation was quite well inside that elevator box. It’s a small one; if I stretch my both arms I could touch two sides of opposing walls (from side to side), stretching one arm is from door to buttons. The only thing I was worried about was that this means my trip back to Amsterdam is delayed, which means that my family’s dinner will be delayed as well.


Showing the buttons that didn't work..

Tita’s husband finally managed to get someone to come over to help, who's coming on his bike right after he got off the phone. I didn’t know how long I was in there before this elevator technician arrived (around half hour?). He peeked inside, waved at me, shouted “Don’t panic!” and dissapeared (I noticed later) into a small opening at the wall next to the elevator door. I could hear him fiddling nextdoor and shouting his instructions. We tried a couple of things until finally the elevator descended to the 1st floor. Tita went down through the stairs and was already there when the elevator arrived, then opened the door. I was out! We went up and found my rescuer talking about how to use the elevator, while checking the buttons and all inside the elevator box.
I smiled apologetically and said “Thank you” while going down the stairs along with him and Tita. He said, “What, you’re not using the elevator? Are you afraid?” – to which I replied, “I’ve spent enough time in there, for now”.

So that was the story of today. The moral? Put two Titas together and you'll experience something new!


Trying to look as desparate as possible
(I'll fix this photo tomo.. er.. later today. First, sleep.
Thanks to Tita for sending me these photos :D)