Well, that was unexpected

Imagine this scene, if you will:

It’s 12:15.  (PM, mind you.)  I have been asleep since a little after 11 PM – not so much because I am a good student and making sure I get a good night’s sleep before lab the next day but more because, having just returned for a grueling (fun, but definitely grueling) weekend in Naples/Pompeii, I am exhausted.

The phone rings.  The phone is next to my bed.  I am confused.  I think it is my morning alarm going off.  I realize it’s the phone, but think that someone must have forgotten to cancel the morning wake up call when the room switched owners.  I pick up the phone, then promptly hang it up.

It rings again.  Huh.  I pick it up again and this time say “Hello?”  “Hello.  Ms. Foresman?”  “Yes . . .”  “We need you down here.”  “Uhhhhh, ok. <pause>  Right now?”  “Yes please.”  “Ok.  Bye.”

I turn to my roommates – one of whom was also kind of asleep at the time, the other was reading in bed.  “Well, that was weird.  Apparently I have to go down to the lobby right now.”  “What for?”  “No idea.  Catherine, do you want to come with me?”  (I wasn’t too keen on heading down to the lobby at night by myself.  It turns out there were other people about in the courtyard, but I’ll get back to that later.)

Catherine and I throw on our sandals and head downstairs.  We get to the bottom of the stairs, turn left, and skirt around the courtyard to get to the lobby.  In the courtyard are Devondra, Cedric (he’s Swiss!), and someone who I later discovered was Cedric’s cousin (former Swiss guard!).  Catherine and I turn the corner to the lobby and there at the desk are two carabinieri:

Ok, these are not the exact carabinieri who showed up, but you get the idea.

 

My first thought: What the hell?  My second thought: I really wish I had put a bra on for this.

I walk up to the desk.  [By now – and probably even by a few minutes after this happened – I don’t really remember how the conversation went, so what follows is more of a recap of what the issue was.]

Apparently, there was a problem with my passport.  Why they caught it this time and not when I first checked into the hotel a week earlier, I have no idea.  That’s Italy for you.  The two carabinieri did not speak English, so the guy behind the desk was trying to explain what was going on.  Apparently, there was some problem with the permisso [permit to stay] I had requested . . . when studying abroad . . . five years ago.  Awesome.

The guy behind the desk was telling me that it ‘wasn’t a big deal, not a problem, just some paperwork that needed to be taken care of.’  One of the carabinieri was going to check to see if I could do the paperwork that night, if not I was going to have to go in to the Questura the next morning.  I had already tried to ask why this was an issue, but no one seemed to be able to tell me.  When there was a mention of having to go in to the Questura, I chimed in and asked if I could go get someone.  That someone was Cedric, who is one of the ‘instructors’, knows more Italian than I do, and fortunately was in the courtyard at the time.  I walked out to the courtyard and, with a look that I imagine was between confusion and mild panic, said “Cedric, I need you.”  “Why?  What’s going on?”  “I’m not really sure.”

So Cedric came with me and although it was pretty much most of the same stuff being explained once again, the guy behind the desk was a bit more detailed this time.  Turns out that I wasn’t going to be able to fill out the paper work that night and I would have to go in to the Questura di Roma at 9 AM the next morning.  I was even given a ‘formal invitation’ as it was phrased that I had to sign.  (I dislike having to sign things in a language I don’t really know, but luckily Cedric – and his cousin – were there to check.)

So it was going to be off to the Questura for me the next day.  And I’ll tell you about that part of the adventure next time.