Locked Out

Today I learned that getting locked out of embassy housing feels a lot like having a ticket on a co-chaired flight.  Since you're in between two organizations, it's hard to get what you need.

The morning started well.  Vivian was ready before the school bus arrived, so she and I went outside to wait and to chat with our neighbors across the street.  After a few minutes, Young brought Elena out to see Vivian off.  Vivian got on the bus, we waved, and then discovered we couldn't get back in the house.  The front door has a push button lock, so it must have gotten bumped as Elena and Young were coming out.  I did a sweep of doors and windows on the ground floor, but everything was very responsibly locked.

The embassy has extra keys for all the houses, but the extra keys are at the embassy which is at least an hour ride downtown in major traffic, so we needed a local solution.  Of course all this was happening at 7:00am, so nothing was open.  Thais are not morning people, and most stores and offices open later in the day.

I decided our best bet was the guard at the front gate.  I was hoping he could help us contact a locksmith.  He doesn't speak any English, so Young talked to him.  Obviously, I couldn't understand them, but I could tell that Young was frustrated, which I knew did not bode well.  Finally she told me that he said he couldn't call a locksmith for embassy housing.  Great.

The next best thing I could think to do was go to my social sponsor's house, which is right next to the guard station.  She was already at work, but her housekeeper was home and is friends with Young.  If nothing else, I knew they would have air conditioning, because by that point Elena was getting sweaty.  Of course she was still smiling.  I'm sure she viewed the whole thing as a fun excursion.  The housekeeper called my sponsor, and she gave me the number for the person at the embassy who coordinates the housing in Nichada.  Luckily she was at work, but she didn't have a lot of great options for me.  She said she could send the key out with a group that was heading to Nichada and would be there around 9:30 or 10:00 or she could try to call the locksmith who hopefully would be available after 8:00, but would cost 300 baht.  She quoted the cost as if it would be a deterrent, but since it's less than $10, I was completely undeterred.  I opted for the locksmith, but it was still only 7:30.

Young was worried about Elena, since it was getting close to morning nap time, and so asked her friend for a screwdriver and went back to our house to attempt to break in through her bedroom window.  I knew she wanted to do something rather than just sitting and waiting, so I didn't stop her.  She came back about fifteen minutes later with a piece of paper.  She hadn't managed to get the window open, but when the guard saw her walking around, he asked if she had gotten in yet.  She said obviously she had not.  Then he gave her the cell phone number of a locksmith.  He told her that the guy had a motorcycle and could be there in ten minutes.  I decided to just be grateful rather than going outside, slapping the guard upside the head, and asking him why he hadn't given us the number an hour ago.

Young called, and, sure enough the guy showed up in ten minutes on his motorcycle.  He took a big wrench out of his bag and put it around the base of the doorknob.  He twisted a few times and the knob fell forward, allowing him to poke its innards with two metal rods.  In less than five minutes he had opened the door and resecured the knob, emphasizing the point I keep making to Jeff that the only people our locks are keeping out are us.    I was so happy to be back in the house and so grateful for the locksmith's quick response time, that I splurged and gave him 400 baht.

By that point Elena was beginning to lose patience with the whole adventure, so I fed her and put her down for a nap.  I was supposed to go to Ikea today with a group of neighbors, but it was getting close to departure time, and I was still a sweaty mess from running around outside, so I called and told the neighbor who was driving that I wouldn't be coming.

I've been using the day to do homework, but I did take a break to do some grocery shopping.  Last week when we were at Big C, I noticed some birds in the store, which is not that unusual, but when I saw them fly into the refrigerated section and start pecking at the packaged meat, I got a little freaked out.  Young and I checked all our packages for beak marks, and I decided that it was time to upgrade to a slightly fancier grocery store, so this week we went to Tesco.  It's about the same distance away as Big C, you just have to spend more time on Chaengwattana.  It wasn't very crowded, and Young, my price checker, said the meat was the same price.  I was reassured by the fact that it was in refrigerated cases with doors, so no birds could get at it.

Since Tesco is slightly fancier than Big C, its piles of raw meat are not just sitting out on tables with ice underneath.  They're in refrigerated metal bins.

Intrepid shoppers put a plastic bag over their hand inside out and rifle through until they find the meat they want.  Then they grab it and turn the bag right side out to take to the weighing station.

Luckily, Young and I agree that we would rather stick with the pre-packaged meat in the refrigerator.  The free form meat at Tesco wasn't that bad though.  The metal trays must have worked, because in most other stores there's a distinctive aroma to the meat section, and at Tesco I didn't notice anything.  My grocery shopping priorities have definitely changed.