We received final notification from the Swiss Immigration office, that Amelia would need to leave Switzerland in order for them to issue her a student visa. Of course, they weren't going to commit to saying she would be issued the visa even if she did leave the country. Her parents fought it as best they could, but eventually, they just bought her a ticket to return home. It's not all bad, though. She was able to get a really good head start on her German, and where they are living now is a special school that teaches German on Saturdays, and they already have her signed up for that.
Anyway, she had to leave the country by Nov. 12, so early on Monday morning, Nov. 9th, we loaded up her bags into the car and headed off for the airport. We had to get up at 6 in order to get through all the morning traffic, and all the kids woke up with her to say goodbye. Sarah and Sophie were very sad she was leaving. Having such a cool, exotic, "foreign" big sister was very fun for them. They followed her around the whole time she was getting ready, wanting to spend every last possible second with her.
When we arrived at the airport, the line was to check in was pretty short, and we got through it rather quickly. But then I had to talk to one lady to pay the extra baggage fee, and a second lady to pay the child-traveling-alone fee. Oh and fill out some paperwork as well. But they very nicely gave me a special pass that allowed me to stay with Amelia all way up to the gate, and put some bright red bracelets and stickers on her, so all airline personnel would now she needed to be looked out for. By now, it was just about an hour until the flight was scheduled to depart, and we still hadn't gone through security. But, no one in authority seemed to think it wpiuld be a problem, so I didn't worry too much about it either.
We had to take a little airport train over to the departing terminal, since it was so far away. Before we could get to the train, we had to go through the passport line. There was a very quick moving line for all Swiss and EU passport holders, and a large, bogged down line for every one else. We had to get in the slow lane, of course. Just when I am really starting to get nervous about the time, a third window opened up and things began to move much more quickly. I confidently handed over Amelia's passport, and my own, which I am so glad Chris remembered to hand to me just as I was walking out the door. He knew I would need some sort of ID to hand Amelia over to the airline, but I hadn't even thought about this part of it. Anyway, this is where I had my first brush with the law.
First, the officer was very upset to see that Amelia had stayed past the 90 days allowed with a tourist visa. I explained that she had been allowed to stay a bit longer from the immigration office because we were waiting to see if they would issue her a student visa. She wanted to see proof of this. Oh, right. The letter from them would have been a good thing to bring along. She expressed her severe irritation at this, and when I tried to explain, she cut me off saying, "I wasn't finished yet!" Then she continued to reprimand me as only the Swiss can do for a minute or so longer. I stood there meekly and took it all in, since I know that is the fastest way through it. Let them say their piece, get it off their chest, and they will let you carry on. It was almost over, and then she took a gander at my passport. My AMERICAN passport, that shows me entering Switzerland several years ago and never leaving. There is no visa stamped in my passport, that is what my foreigner id card is for. But I didn't have that with me, because we aren't foreigners anymore, we have Swiss citizenship. The foreign id card is expired, and we haven't gotten around to getting our Swiss id cards. Mostly because the only country we travel to that requires you showing your passport is America, and we have to travel on our American passports into the States. So, there I was, trying to exit a country I was legally a citizen of, and she was reading me the riot act. NOT FUN! But she eventually let us both on through, shaking her head at my idiocy the entire time.
Now I really started to panic. If it was that hard to LEAVE the country, how much worse was it going to be when I tried to get back IN? You know, after I dropped off Amelia at the gate? But I called Chris to tell him not to be surprised if I didn't come home when expected, and that I would perhaps require bail at some point that day. After the little train ride was over, we went through security. I placed my purse on the conveyor belt, took off my shoes, you know the routine. It went pretty quickly. In fact, it took the longest amount of time to put our shoes back on! Then we had to walk past all the fancy stores, selling overpriced stuff to unsuspecting businessmen who feel guilty about not getting anything for their loved ones the whole time they were here. 🙂
We got to the gate without incident, 25 minutes before the scheduled departing time, and saw that they were already loading the plane. I hugged Amelia goodbye, and then a flight attendant came and took her right on to the plane, in front of everyone else waiting in line. They asked me to stay in the airport until they had taken off, just in case there was an emergency and they needed to get a hold of me. I figured that a security holding cell would probably count as still being in the airport, and began to make my way back to the dreaded passport line.
Security the opposite way was a breeze. I just walked right past all the x-ray machines, and people taking off their shoes and out the door. The security guard even waved a friendly greeting to me as I passed. Not sure what I was expecting there, but certainly not that. I started to slow my steps as I got closer to the "border". I seriously had knots in my stomach about what would happen to me. Would they put me in handcuffs? Would I be interrogated for hours on why I had been living in Switzerland illegally? I tried not to let my imagine get away with me, but seriously, the lady before had totally scared me.
Finally, it was my turn to hand over my passport. I remember hanging down my head, waiting for the guy to start yelling, blowing his whistle, and motioning for people to arrest me. Instead, he just stamped my passport and told me to have a nice day. What the heck?!? Are you serious? I actually went and killed time in the bathroom just to put off going through all the misery and humiliation of being arrested, and he just stamped my passport and waved me through? So, basically, what the Swiss want you to know is, don't you DARE leave their country without their permission, but any lowlife ruffian is welcomed in with a smile. Could.not.believe.it.
But I was most definitely relieved. I even called Chris, all giddy with excitement that I had successfully smuggled myself back into the country. As I got nearer to my vehicle, I reached into my purse for my keys. And touched something very sharp. I pulled my hand out and my finger was bleeding. I stopped and burst out into slightly maniacal, relieved laughter right there. I had just made it through airport security, TWICE, with a paring knife in my purse, leftover from turnip carving at school the week before. Could I have done anything more that day to get myself locked up? I certainly can't think of anything, can you?
Oh my gosh, that is a crazy airport! I'm glad you made it back in even with all the weapons and expired passports and everything. 🙂