Mikuláš Day

December 6th is Mikuláš Day.... also known as St. Nicholas day in the States. Legend has it that children clean and shine their boots and put them outside the door the night of 5 December, and when they wake up the next morning they find treats and goodies Mikuláš left for them inside their boots.

The holiday is pretty big here. The first year I was in Slovakia, I went to the square where there was a children's program. During the program, the Devil (čert) went around pulling kids out of the crowd and spanking them or taking their candy or just scaring them in general. And then an Angel would go around and restore peace and order, while mothers laughed and wiped their children's eyes. The program ended with Mikuláš coming onto the square in a horse-drawn carriage to give presents and treats to the children in attendence. The devil and the angel are as much part of the lore as Mikuláš is, so it's not unusual to see someone dressed up like the devil or an angel on this particular day.

Even Narnia celebrates by having a special program for all the grades. Last year, it involved Mikuláš (who I thought was supposed to be the Pope from the costume, but I was wrong), Santa Clause (as in the American guy), the Devil and an Angel - all portrayed by various teachers and staff - handing out candy and gifts to the first four grades (or scaring them as the case was with the Devil).

 This year there was a special chapel service with worship lead by several of the students, a guest speaker (the former Co-Mayer of Banska Bystrica), and "Hero" awards given to two students for their active participation/help in the school and to others. Later in the afternoon, 5th, 6th and 7th grade served lunch to the elderly of Cirkev Bratska (the Evangelical Free church here in BB) while grades 1-3 participated by singing for them, helping set up the room, and giving hand-made cards to each person in attendance. All in all, a great day.

  So though it's late, Happy Mikuláš Day to You, Friend!

Stuck in the Lift

Yesterday I got stuck in the lift (elevator) of my flat building.

I was in the lift with three other people and we were no where near the 500 kilogram maximum weight limit, so it was a little unexpected when the lift started slowing down and then stopped completely (I'm guessing the motor went out). The lifts in Slovakia are designed where there's an outer door set in to the wall of the hall corridor that closes and locks while the lift itself (with it's own doors that you close) moves. So when you get on or off, you open and close two different set of doors. The outer door will not unlock unless the lift comes to a complete stop at the floor of the button one pushes. So when the lift stopped in between floors 2 and 3, with nothin but cement in between there was no way to get out because the outer doors in the hall corridors were completely locked.

The people in the lift with me seemed rather put out over the affair. I didn't say anything, but was laughing hysterically inwardly because of course this would happen while I was in it! (Add that one to the list of "What happened to me while in Slovakia"!) One of the men in the lift kept jumping up and down trying to get some sort of movement going, while the other man was opening and closing the inside doors and pushing buttons to no avail. The women was making phone calls to her daughter to send her looking for people who might be home to come help us. I was silent, listening to the conversations around me and trying not to bust out laughing.

I kept imagining the film Speed while all this was happening... except for the fact that the lift wasn't in danger of snapping cables and plummeting to the bottom, nor was a SWAT team necessary to be called to rescue us from near and certain death. It was rather an anti-climactic event and one that didn't even leave me stressed, harried, worried or scarred (after all, I had my Kindle in my bag, so I was happy as a clam to just sit down and read should the occasion call for it). I figured someone would eventually come and get us.

The whole episode lasted no longer than ten minutes when the daughter of the women was able to find someone who was home to come open the main outer doors on the outside on the second floor. And thank goodness the motor went out when we were between floors because otherwise, a technician would have had to been called or someone would have had to drill through concrete. Anyway, the door was opened and we all had to jump down to the floor through the opening between the top of the ceiling and the bottom of the lift. It was a little farther than I could tell in the dark, but I jumped down, unscathed, and then walked up the steps to the third floor to my flat.

All in all, I am thankful that a) I am not clausterphobic; b) that I was in the lift with other people who knew people in the building (apparently, it helps to know your neighbors!); and c) we were able to get out unharmed, without a technician needing to be called and in a short amount of time.