One of the first things you might notice as you enter a typical house in Greece, is the door. From the outside, it looks about like any other door. From inside the residence, it looks about the same, but if you catch it from the side you notice something very different: the dead bolt.
Or perhaps it would be better to say the dead bolts. You see in Greece, they don't have a dead bolt in each door, they have an army of them.
You turn the key, and metal posts shoot out in every direction - usually ten to fifteen of them.
To say the least, these doors are secure.
The doors are secure, but apparently that can not always be said of the apartments.
My apartment had one of these special super doors, but one day when we came home (there were two of us that lived there) we could not get in. We tried the key. We tried to push. We tried everything we could. We decided something must be stopping our progress besides the door. The thought crossed our minds that it could be a joke, but we were pretty certain that it wasn't. When we decided it might be a joke, we pounded on the door, but alas the door did not open.
An interesting side note is that in greece many of the buildings have a mezzanine (a level, somewhere between the ground floor and the first floor). Our building had one of the levels, in fact we lived on that floor. We climbed up a short flight of stairs, and there, from a little balcony, we entered our apartment... usually.
Well after we pounded with our fists, and while our hearts were still pounding, I happened to see something, which in retrospect I now know to be the burglar fleeing the crime. Mostly it was just a quick dash from under the balcony to the door, and it was quick. I saw the door, but the rest was... well, blurry.
At this point it came clear, the burglar had entered through the enclosed courtyard. How he got up to our apartment, I'm not quite sure, but as we checked the courtyard sure enough a small piece of glass in a window in the kitchen was missing.
I had never experienced burglary before, and things have been pretty calm since that time, but it was scary. Actually it was more than scary, I felt real fear.
As we searched the house, we noticed the large suitcases blocking the door, and most of our stuff was still there, at least it seemed to be. We had some cash and it was there (in plain sight no less) and our cameras were still there, and nearly everything was there. Well, everything except our alarm clocks, but who needs an alarm clock when you're too scared to sleep.
Ironically, nearly all that we had before the incident, we still had, and yet we were scared, I guess I can't speak for my friend, but I was still scared.
I can't say that it made me afraid to be in Greece, because really I usually felt quite safe, but I can say that I had a new appreciation for being secure, for knowing that I was doing what I could to keep my things, and to keep myself safe. It may have even been a reason that I worked in home security for a while. And still to this day I think about those things. What can I do to be more secure, and what can I do to keep myself safe.
I don't think I'm paranoid, but I think I'm more cautious, and I think that it's good. Yeah, around these parts things are often quite calm, but I think it is wise to be ready for storms, and I'm glad that I learned it in a sense, the easy way.
7 comments:
Oh, that does sound scary! Kind of interesting that the perpetrator just took the alarm clocks. Yay for story time!
One time in Texas, the "male friends" had this pot of ours held hostage at their apartment, and we had an appointment near their apartment, so we stopped by to get it. They didn't answer the door, so I decided to break in through the window. I let my "friend" in through the door and proceeded to get the pan, all the while whining that they didn't even wash the pan. It wasn't until I let my friend out and returned the door back to its locked state that I realized that in order to have locked the door the way that it was, the male friends either had to have left out the window or they were still in the apartment. It was the second one.
Wow - what a story! Most people think of their home as their sanctuary, a safe place. So, even when alarm clocks are the only thing taken, you really lose your sense of security when your home gets broken into.
I agree with Cardine - hooray for story time! I hope you're going to tell us more!
Cardine, I love your story, too! How funny!
What's with the "code"?
Love the stories. One time my family's house was robbed. We think it was a neighbor kid, because only coins/loose change was missing. And we think the thief was either short or in a hurry, because he totally didn't see a huge wad of cash on one of the dressers. The thing that bothered me the most, though, was I had a little tiny mailbox-shaped bank with a tiny lock on it. He bent the metal on the bank and ripped off the lock. I think maybe a dollar was in there.
The ironic thing is that I got that lock a long time ago from a friend. She gave it to me sort of as a joke, because I had had my backpack stolen. My backpack was near the edge of the road at the bus-stop, saving my place in line, of course. I can still see the robbery in my mind's eye - I was standing 40 yards away, perhaps. A large boat-of-a-car drove up and the passenger opened his/her door and picked up my backpack and drove off.
Um, the passenger didn't drive off... the driver drove off.
First, the code.
When I was in Greece, I was there doing missionary work. (as you already know). And as you also may know, missionaries are often sent forth two by two, or in a companionship. But I didn't feel like taking a sidenote to explain that so, I just substituted another word which adequately identified my roommate. Why it was adopted and coded I can't say, but that was the idea behind it. Honestly, sometimes I think the words "in code" are more confusing than I had planned. I was just trying to be clear and concise (without having to explain, in case someone didn't understand).
Ü
Julie - Totally!
Thanks for all the thoughts.
Sarah - That backback story is awful? All robbery stories are. I am mad, just thinking about it.
One time I had a Christmas present stolen from my locker at school. I don't even know what it was because it was still wrapped. Very sad. Very sad, indeed.
I didn't mean for that to be a question, by the way. It should have been awful!
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