I don't watch horror movies. I am already worried enough in life about psychos, gang bangers, and serial killers. I don't need to watch horror movies about it.
The last time we went to Poland, I had a moment when I thought "This is how horror movies start." Thank goodness it's just my hyper sense of danger. I'm sure some of you will find this as funny as I did after wards..
My cousin, her husband and children, my older daughter and my pregnant self were all driving to the countryside to my Wujek's property for a day out together in the Polish mountainside. The drive was, as usual, gorgeous. Poppy flowers sprinkled the countryside mixed in with fields of grain, massive centuries old churches, villages, the plains of Poland.
The drive from Wroclaw to the property is long, several hours. My being pregnant, at one point, we stopped so I could use the restroom.
The place we stopped at was in the hills before the mountains on a fairly small road. Trees were everywhere and it was breathtaking. I stretched my legs, took a deep breath of the sweet air, and walked up to the, well, I guess it was a tavern.
Wooden and old and solidly built, beautiful. I went inside to the bar and asked the barkeeper if I could use the restroom, prepared to pay. I believe it was 1 zloty to use the restroom.
He gave me what I thought would be a key but, no, this was ingenious. The type of ingenious I've only found in the middle of the Appalachian mountains and in Poland.
A doorknob. The type of doorknob that is called a lever handle door knob.
The bartender made sure to tell me to please make sure that when I open the door, to then pull it out of the hole and take inside to be able to open the door with it from the inside. He even made movements with his hand gesturing to this effect.
I completely understood this. Yes, it was in Polish and he was older so the accent was thicker than I am used to as a Polish American. But I understood it.
I smiled, nodded that I understood, and said "Rozumiem" which means "I understand". The bar tender continued the funny look he had started giving me from the moment I walked in. I assumed it was because no matter how hard I try, I always dress American when I visit Poland and I have a thick American accent when I talk. So, possibly he thought "Boy, I hope this American understands what I am saying." And I did.
He told me the restroom was outside and up the walkway on the outside of the building. The building looked as thought it was well over a century old so possibly the restroom was added on with plumbing after running water and sewage were available in the area many many years ago. I had seen some very old historical buildings in America and other areas of Europe with this... But I'm rambling.
I walked outside and up the walkway on the left of the building. I waved to my cousins who were at the bottom of this hill by the road about a hundred feet or more away. Trees from the forest were a few feet from the walkway, including pines. The location was gorgeous and I daydreamed about owning such a beautiful home for myself one day.
I got to the restroom. It was a shed attached to the outside wall of the building and by the way the plumbing was installed, I felt my assumptions of the age of the building were correct.
I stuck in the lever handle door knob, opened the door, walked in and...
I left the handle on the outside of the door and forgot until the door closed behind me.
What to do?
I used the facilities.
I then began to look at the hole where the handle was and realized I was definitely stuck until someone found me.
And turned around in a panic. This is how horror movies start!
I began to bang on the door and wall of the building calling out "Pomoc! Jestem zamknieta! Nie moge otworzyc drzwi! Pomoc!" (Translation: Help! I'm locked in! I can't open the door! Help!)
Impressive Polish language skills, I know. Considering I've never been locked in anywhere and everything.
I kept racking my mind how to McGyver myself out of there but I had left my purse in the van and there was nothing in the restroom but a toilet and sink. Nothing.
After a few minutes, my freedom was attained. The bartender came and opened the door and started saying in Polish, "Why did you trap yourself in? I told you how to use this! Are you alright? Why did you trap yourself in?"
I smiled sheepishly, patted his shoulder and pointed at my stomach, "Myślałem o innych rzeczi, Przeprasam, ale Dziekujem Pan bardzo!" and started walking quickly back to the car laughing at myself.
I told my cousins what happened while laughing and they stated they were worrying what had happened to me but could not hear me calling because of the noise of cars driving by and being so far downhill. I knew they couldn't hear me. I couldn't help but laugh at myself.
They told me the bartender had come outside looking around very confused and they were wondering what he was doing. He had heard me. That poor old man, that must have been the most excitement he had all day. I hope he could laugh at it the way I could.
The day trip turned out to be full of memories with the adventure my older daughter had with chickens.