Held hostage by my own stupidity

Today's blog is a short story, with a happy ending.

Readers of NTN keep asking for the nitty-gritty of life in Namibia. Well, one interesting facet of the constant security concerns (which are less than almost anywhere else in Africa, but still are omnipresent) is that everything is locked. A prime example is the toilets (here, toilet refers to the entire room, not the fixture) in my office building at Polytechnic. I was given a key to the toilet on my floor. If I'm on another floor and nature calls, too bad...have to go all the way up to my floor (top floor).

What about the students that have class in our building? We have to give them a key, if we want to let them use the facilities. Our choice. Otherwise, they have to go to a different building.

And, the other piece of information you need--many of the keys in Namibia are 'skeleton' keys--the old-style keys that look like they should open an antique trunk, or a city gate. And, without too much foreshadowing to ruin the plot, these keys tend to break--I've already broken two of them trying to unlock doors in our house.

So, to set the stage for one of my most embarrassing moments, I had attended several pre-semester meetings/workshops where faculty were told and told and told to be on time for class. Polytechnic is trying to distance itself from other institutions where faculty may never show up for class. So, I've got it--come to class on time.

During the first week of classes, I was covering Plant Studies (don't ask...) and Ecology (much better) for another professor who was on a research mission in the North. These are first-year students, and I was on edge to make sure they started their first semester with someone who was on time.

On Friday, I had Plant Studies from 7:30-9:00 a.m. Very early for me. Then, Ecology at 9:30-10:30. So, I took a break between classes--went to my office to get my notes for Ecology, and visited the men's room. Now, I figure that if they give us a key, we're supposed to use it. Thus, when I went in, I locked the door behind me so that some rogue student couldn't come in while I was busy, thwarting the precise security system.

Of course, when I went to unlock the door to leave, my key snapped. Locked in the toilet. No cell phone. Doh! Three minutes until class starts, and counting. Two. One. I'm late. One minute late. Two. Three. Four. Five. Didn't even bring a manuscript to read...

Luckily, the janitor came along to clean the toilet, and I was released unharmed. The students were very keen to remind me, when I arrived, that I was late. But, they also enjoyed the story. The lesson is--make sure you take some reading material with you when you go visit the toilet--you might be there awhile.

Now, I am experiencing another side of life here--waiting for the requisition to clear so that someone can make me a new key. Still don't have it.