drip. drip. drip.

We got home yesterday afternoon to a not-so-pleasant surprise: our ceiling was leaking. There was some sort of water overflow (we still don't know if it was in the apartment above us or the pipes between the apartments) and our hallway was getting wet. Jason called our landlord, but he's out of the country for the next week. He said we should try talking to the neighbors above us or one of the tenants on the first floor. Neither of them were home, so we left notes on their doors -- I tried my best to say "water leak in ceiling, apt. 7" in Czech. With really nothing else we could do, we put out some buckets, plastic sheets and went to bed. About 12:30 our doorbell started ringing, and it was (I think) the man who lives above us. Between our little bit of Czech and his little bit of English -- and some pointing at the water that was at this point cascading down our walls -- he got the picture. He said something in Czech and ran down the stairs. He must have known what to do to turn the water off because about 5 minutes later the dripping slowed and we noticed that the water in our apartment had been turned off.
We waited a little while for him to come back, but he never did. So we emptied the buckets, which were quite full, and went back to bed.
Thankfully, the dripping had completely stopped by morning. Our ceiling looks much worse than in this picture, but luckily none of our stuff was ruined.
Our water still isn't on and we don't know when that's going to happen. It could make for an interesting few days.