Looking Back: The Elevator Story August 10, 2008
Posted by ducksflytogether in Uncategorized.Tags: aswan, post-trip
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(I’ve been meaning to post this for nearly a week now. Unfortunately, my computer’s RAM crapped out on me, so my computer was out of commission for a few days.)
I had forgotten about this story until Cindy reminded me about it on MySpace.
We were staying in Aswan and had to meet in the lobby at 3:30 a.m. for our trip south to Abu Simbel. (The temperatures at Abu Simbel, near Egypt’s southern border, get hellish by midday. So most tours are advised to get there early. We also had to meet up with a police escort for the ride there.)
I got onto the first floor elevator. For some reason, the “first floor” was actually two flights up – the actual first floor was the restaurant level. Go figure.
Anyway, it was me, Michelle, Summer and Pat. Each of us was overweight to some degree (I was definitely the heaviest person in the elevator.) Keep that in mind.
We get to the ground level, but instead of stopping gently and the door opening, the elevator falls to the floor with a loud “BANG!!!” And the lights went out. And the elevator stopped. And the door didn’t open. Our collective weight was too much for the elevator, so on our way down, the elevator cried “Uncle!” Great.
Immediately, Summer began worrying. “I hate closed spaces, I’m so claustrophobic, I can’t do this!” she said over and over. Normally, I would have freaked out, too. But this was one of those rare instances when the Matt I Want to Be collided with the Matt I Am.
Michelle was trying to help, but I stood next to the controls, trying to get us out of the elevator. Patiently. And calmly.
I repeated “No worries, no worries, no worries” while fiddling with the buttons. Hitting the “call” button didn’t do anything. Hitting the numbers for the other floors didn’t do anything. Nor did hitting the “Emergency” button. (What a joke!)
My mind immediately jumped to, “Okay, we’re fine. It’s not too warm in here, we all have water, and everyone else is just on the other side of this door. They had to have heard us out there, and they have probably already alerted the staff to a problem with the elevator. We’ll be fine.” I never panicked. Not once. Not for a second.
(By the way, as loud as the elevator crashing was, no one heard it outside.)
But there I was, trying to reassure the others. “No worries,” I said. (Pat was silent during this whole ordeal.)
Then the lights come on, and we begin an ascent. My immediate thought is, “Alright, we’ll get to a floor, and we’ll get out! This is good!” But Michelle kind of pushed me out of the way and began messing with the controls. Later on, I found out it was because her mind turned to, “Oh no, this elevator’s going to the top of the hotel, and it’s going to free-fall, and we’re all going to die.”
But we got to the first (second) floor, and the doors opened. Disaster averted. Three of our group members were waiting outside the door for the elevator, and the four of us nearly pushed each other over to get back onto solid ground. I took the stairs down (surprise!) and had to sit down — by this point, my leg was shaking violently. After the fact, I needed a few deep breaths and a few minutes to compose myself. “Did that really just happen?” I asked.
The whole thing took maybe 30 seconds. A minute, at the most. But here we were, at 3:30 in the morning, stuck in an elevator in a foreign country. It was really scary for a few seconds! And instead of panicking, which I’ve done so many times in my life at the slightest hint of stress, I manned up and kept my cool. It was a good feeling.
I told the hotel staff about the elevator struggles, and maybe they misunderstood me, but the clerk essentially said, “Oh, we’re aware.” Comforting and terrifying at the same time.
I joked with the others that, the further I got from the event, the more exaggerated the story was going to be – after all, it was my story now! In fact, by the trip’s end, I was describing our harrowing free-fall down 36 stories and how I pulled some “Die Hard”-type shit by climbing into the elevator shaft to anyone who would listen.
But the one thing I didn’t exaggerate was that it was one of the scariest moments I can ever recall.
(As for Abu Simbel, it was incredible. More on that in another post, though.)
Looking Back: The Heat August 5, 2008
Posted by ducksflytogether in Uncategorized.Tags: alexandria, aswan, cairo, heat, luxor, post-trip
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(I really need to get to bed, but considering that the weather is going to hit the upper 90s this week, I felt like this was an especially timely post.)
(Also, sorry for the lack of photos. This post came about on a whim, and I didn’t really feel like sifting through 980 photos for … umm … photos of heat. Maybe I’ll upload some another day.)
I can’t wait for the 90+ degree temperatures that are set to hit us tomorrow and continue through most of the week. That way, I can totally play the “snobbish world traveler” card when people go to complain about the heat. I mean, if anyone has first-hand experience with excruciating temperatures this summer, it’s me, right?
I can see it now …
“Oh man, this weather is SO hot today!”
To which I will respond, “Yeah, it’s warm, I guess. But Egypt was way hotter.”
I mean, come on … how does that really add anything to any conversation? It doesn’t. No one really gives a shit if Egypt is hotter than Vancouver – that’s to be expected! But I don’t get many chances to casually drop Egypt into conversation. (“Oh no! The printer is out of paper ….. by the way, did you know the Egyptians used papyrus for paper? And the papyrus plant grew in the Nile River, where I spent two days on a boat?”) So – totally jokingly, mind you – I’m looking forward to milking this.
Truth is, when I got back from Egypt, temperatures were in the mid 70s back home, and I hated it. I went to work the day after coming back, and I nearly froze in my office. I would have brought a jacket if I’d remembered to. Even outside, the temperatures felt cool.
I don’t want to say I got used to the heat, but I learned to tolerate it. I learned to roll with it when, two minutes after heading outside, I started sweating. That made the cold showers back at the hotel that much better. And there aren’t many better feelings than standing under a running showerhead after spending most of the day outside, in 90 degree heat, and suffering the consequences accordingly.
Heat was a weird thing in Egypt, too. A few random observations.
1. I remember the flight into Cairo. There was a monitor attached to the seat in front of me, displaying our flight path, the outside temperature and other information. I remember thinking I was in for a surprise when the “outside temperature” reading didn’t drop below 78 degrees for the final five minutes of the flight. At 2 a.m.
Stepping off the plane and onto the ladder was intense – the heat and humidity just attacked me. It was tough to take a deep breath, and almost instantly, my skin felt clammy. My first reaction was, “Oh shit. No way I make it three weeks in this. Not going to happen. What have I done? How did Indiana Jones survive with his khakis and jacket? Can I go home? This is insane. Why did I agree to this?” (There were a few unprintable thoughts mixed in, but you get the gist.)
I mean, when it’s 80 degrees … at 2 a.m. … that’s hot. And you know it’s only going to get worse from there.
2. In Cairo, I finally understood “dry heat.” In the Pacific Northwest, when it gets hot, there’s always a touch of humidity. Not in Cairo. There’s more than a touch of smog that keeps the heat kind of trapped in the city … but there’s no humidity. Growing up, I never bought the idea of “dry heat” somehow being better or worse than … not-dry heat. I was like, “I don’t care if it’s dry heat or humid heat – 100 degrees is 100 f’n degrees!” Now I get it.
3. It was interesting to see how things changed as we moved around the country. In Alexandria, it was really humid, thanks to the Mediterranean Sea. And, since it was also warm, the combination made for a mildly miserable walking-around experience. But as soon as you got to the waterfront, a constant breeze cooled things off considerably.
Then you got to the southern end of the country, down in Aswan. There, it was hotter and dryer than Cairo. Makes sense, I guess. But without the smog trapping the heat, it felt a bit more tolerable than Cairo.
4. But the worst heat was in Luxor, which is in central Egypt. Luxor itself wasn’t bad, but the Valley of the Kings – a shadeless valley where something like five dozen pharaohs were buried – the thermometer hit 108 degrees by 10:30 a.m. I still can’t imagine that, and I lived it. I mean, there was no escaping the heat there. Gulping water didn’t do the trick. Nor did a wide-brimmed hat, white T-shirt, sun block and shorts. None of it mattered. The sun was relentless.
5. Air conditioning. It was in all of our hotels, and the only time it was turned off was when the maids turned it off. It was also in all of our buses. I developed a new appreciation for A/C. I just might get an air conditioner tattooed over my heart one of these days.
6. But the truth is, I would rather go to Egypt in July, instead of February or March, 100 times out of 100. Okay, so Egypt’s March temperatures are like Vancouver’s June temperatures (65-70 degrees or so). But you go to Egypt for the heat. That’s part of the experience. You’re in the desert, baking like a potato. That’s the Egyptian Experience right there. So that’s why I never complained about the heat while there. It was like … that was what I wanted to experience. And I did!
It’s like, if you want to get the Vancouver experience, you don’t come in July, when it’s 80-90 degrees. You come in March, when you have pretty even odds of sunny and warm weather, sunny and cold weather, overcast, rainy weather, showers and whatever else Mother Nature has in store. That unpredictable weather? That’s the Vancouver Experience. Part of it, anyway. But you get what I’m saying.
So bring on the 90 degree temperatures! I just hope my co-workers, family and friends don’t shove a sock in my mouth after I drop gems like, “Make sure you’re drinking enough water in that heat! We had to drink 3 liters of water each day in Egypt! Have I mentioned that it’s hot over there?”
