On the way to Caterina's pizza party, four members of the American diplomatic community and I became trapped in a Cypriot elevator and were rescued by the Nicosia Fire Squad (who stopped fighting a fire in order to come save us). As Dave Barry would say, I could not make this up. Anyway, the fun started when all five of us trooped into the European-sized elevator, which is about the size of a teeny weeny broom closet. Although we were well under the posted limit of 400 kgs (that's approx 1000 lbs for you Americans and Brits), we realized something was wrong when the elevator made a loud sound, jerked and well, stopped. Naturally, the first thing we did was ring the elevator bell, which gave out a weak tinkle. That's when we realized-- NO ONE REALIZED WHERE WE WERE. And why would they? Then, we picked up the phone. No connection. We called the posted elevator service number. The technician for our area was on vacation. What were we supposed to do-- wait until he came back in two weeks? We called the Embassy. The phone kept breaking up. I was screaming into the phone in English on one end of the elevator while Eleni was screaming in Greek to the police department on the other end.
One of our colleagues figured out we were in the elevator, went out to his car, and came back with...an axe. Who the h*ll carries an axe in their car? All of a sudden, my colleague Mark swung the axe into the cracked elevator opening and we all leapt back against the wall. After we convinced him to get rid of the axe, he stuck his fingers in the opening to try to pry it apart. After screaming at him to remove his fingers in case they got caught, some members of the pizza party came out and started hanging around the elevator. We were informed that the Marines, the police and the fire department were on their way. About 20 minutes later, the fire department arrived, stuck a key in some hole outside elevator, and popped the door open. One by one, we leapt from the elevator and jumped...six inches. It had felt much more dramatic. Much to my disappointment, all of the firemen appeared married and pissed that we had interrupted their fire. So, in the end, I said good-bye to the firemen (how do you thank someone from rescuing you in an elevator? I mean, what's the protocol here?) and my colleagues and I trooped upstairs to eat some pizza.
One of our colleagues figured out we were in the elevator, went out to his car, and came back with...an axe. Who the h*ll carries an axe in their car? All of a sudden, my colleague Mark swung the axe into the cracked elevator opening and we all leapt back against the wall. After we convinced him to get rid of the axe, he stuck his fingers in the opening to try to pry it apart. After screaming at him to remove his fingers in case they got caught, some members of the pizza party came out and started hanging around the elevator. We were informed that the Marines, the police and the fire department were on their way. About 20 minutes later, the fire department arrived, stuck a key in some hole outside elevator, and popped the door open. One by one, we leapt from the elevator and jumped...six inches. It had felt much more dramatic. Much to my disappointment, all of the firemen appeared married and pissed that we had interrupted their fire. So, in the end, I said good-bye to the firemen (how do you thank someone from rescuing you in an elevator? I mean, what's the protocol here?) and my colleagues and I trooped upstairs to eat some pizza.
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