This is basically the so-called "story of my life", even though I'd like to think that if people will ever talk about me or reminisce about my past, it will be more than just about this single event . . . because of its infamous and somewhat tragic yet hilarious "it could only happen to me" nature, I've been asked to write it down, lest I ever forget the details (UNLIKELY!). Just FYI though, I was very young at the time so I have a somewhat selective memory from this situation and probably forgot one important detail or another, so please bear with me.
"The One Where Vera Gets Arrested In Zurich, Switzerland"
It all happened a while back, I don't remember the year exactly but I believe I was around 9 or 10 years old at the time. My uncle and aunt-to-be had invited the entire family to their wedding, which was to be held in St. Petersburg, Russia. From what I knew, it was going to be very elegant and "royal-esque" and of course a big deal, not to mention I had maybe at that point only been to one wedding before in my lifetime so I was beyond excited.
The plan had been for me, my mum, my aunt and cousin to travel to Zurich, Switzerland for about a day or two, and then from there to catch a connecting flight and arrive in Russia, and afterwards take a train straight to St. Petersburg.
The whole trip to Zurich and our stay there went rather smoothly for the most part, although from what I recall I had insomnia and for the life of me couldn't fall asleep in that hotel we stayed in. I also remember (unintentionally, of course) angering the hotel staff with my cousin - what can I say, boredom lead to rebelliousness. Regardless, our shenanigans kept us very entertained - from racing each other down the corridors and stairwells to playing hide and seek by the front desk, amongst other things.
For the record, my mother has a knack for losing important things, and is unfortunately prone to having mishaps during trips she takes (thankfully I did not inherit this trait).
Fast-forward, we landed in Russia, got off the plane, and were about to go through customs when my mum noticed she didn't have any of our documents (passports, boarding passes, etc.). We explained the situation, but were still not allowed back on the plane, which of course made us all go instantly into a state of absolute panic (my cousin in a fit of rage almost threw his glasses on the floor). In the end, they gave my mom a choice - either be arrested on the spot, or go back to the airport in Zurich where we came from and then be "dealt with" there. Knowing the nature of Russian prisons, we all decided it would be best if the two of us would just fly back to Switzerland so we bid a tearful goodbye to my aunt and cousin, who had to tell my grandmother and step-grandfather what happened, and we left.
What of our documents? Well, we figure they were probably stolen by the cleaning crew . . . after all, American passports could be sold for a lot of money.
Upon our arrival to the Zurich airport, my mother frantically started making phone calls. It was a hopeless case - her boss thought she wasn't being truthful about what happened and that she only wanted have an extended vacation, and the Polish consulate basically told us that since I was not yet a Polish citizen my mom could not prove that I was her child, to which he added: "You don't even have ANY documents . . . you're nothing, you don't exist."
During our 4 to 5 days at the airport, we were kept in a tiny room with no windows, bright fluorescent lights, and a few bunk beds. We were not allowed to go out of the airport. Frankly, no one knew what to do with us. We couldn't leave, and we couldn't stay. We didn't have an identity.
Our "cell mate" was a big fat cheerful Russian lady, who had also somehow gotten her documents stolen on a group tour. I remember her cheering us up, saying, "I have been through the war. This is nothing." I gave her English lessons in exchange for her company.
I got sick very quickly, since they didn't provide us with any food or drinks and I barely ate, and when I did, it was old refrigerated airport food. Did I mention that our suitcases had gotten lost? That was decidedly the cherry on top of an already horrible situation.
On one fateful occasion we came across one of the police/security people who worked there, and he took pity on me because I was so ill and exhausted. I remember him giving me fresh oranges that I would immediately take into my hands and bring up to my nose to fully soak up the scent (perhaps, in hindsight, this is where my fondness of orange juice comes from? food for thought). Out of curiosity my mum asked him why he was helping us, he replied "I have a daughter about her age."
What happened next was a miracle - that police man said that he would give us permission to go out for a few hours to the city of Bern in order to get temporary passports, but only under the condition that we kept quiet and that we came back as soon as possible . . . after all, he was risking his career for us.
Thanks to our guardian angel, we got the documents we needed after a heavy day of traveling around Switzerland, and we came back. We said adieu to our former roomie, who decided to move to some sort of hotel, and we flew back to Poland, where our suitcases were waiting for us.
A few years later, a movie came out. I never did see it, but from what I've been told, it's about a man who is stuck in an airport. Coincidence? I think not.
v x
P.S. To that police man - you helped me and my mum so much. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking pity on me, and for saving us. I will always remember your kindness . . . you give me hope. To this day I still have this little tiny angel doll that I found laying on the sidewalk the day we were allowed out of the airport, and it makes me think of you.