Trapped: How I Managed to Survive Imprisonment Within a Russian Apartment

Russians seem to like doors, like, a lot. For my apartment alone, not only is there the door to the building, but two sequential doors for the entrance to the apartment. I have heard that the number of doors can double if you have an older building as there are twice the entrances (one for people and guest, one for trash and servants). With these doors come many keys. Right now, I have a fob for the outside door, a key for each apartment door, and a key for the deadbolt. Also, the keys don't look like keys in America. Rarely will you have the flat, grooved key with ridges for the pins, but you will have either a dungeon-y key, a four-sided ridged key, or a circular key with holes in it for pins.

So on Monday morning, I woke up, had breakfast, and got ready for school. By the time I actually got around to leaving, the other two in the apartment had already left. Ready to leave, I unlocked the inner door and pulled the handle. Nothing. It wouldn't even turn all the way. Confused, I checked the deadbolt to find my key wouldn't turn (yeah, use the key on the inside and outside). After that I was sure that the deadbolt was unlocked as it had never been locked before.
I began trying every combination of door usage I could think of: lock door, try deadbolt, move lever-thingy (I still don't know what it does), lift door handle up. For a while, I thought I had forgotten how to use a door.
After about 20 minutes of playing this game, a slight feeling of panic set in. My hozyaika was at the dacha and everyone else was at work and I sure a hell wasn't going to call them to explain in pseudo-Russian that I was locked in the apartment. My first thought was, "Is being locked in the apartment an excusable absence from school?" My Russian friend from Kazan said 'probably'. Relief.
I called one of the program coordinators to describe my predicament. She then called my host-father (could have skipped the middle man), who then called me.
Problem #2--I don't understand Russian over the phone, not at all. So about 5 minutes pass with what sounds like frustrated yelling over the phone, and I am no closer to escaping.
My host mother then calls, and I can at least understand her a little bit, usually, but today it sounds like more frustrated yelling. After negotiating with this for about 5 minutes, I finally figure out the secret to operating the door.
Freedom. And I only missed one class.