After getting settled into my first apartment in Bratislava, I contacted a couple friends to party in the capital for the weekend. They were old American football buddies that played with me in Europe. We spent the weekend going through the center, visiting pubs, clubs, and even knocking ‘em dead at the karaoke bar. We were out late every night. Sunday night, my friends decided to stay out late, so since I had to work in the morning, I decided to head home early. As I left, I turned to my friends and said half jokingly, “Be good.”
Slovakia isn’t the most civil place in the world, and if a couple of drunk foreigners want a little mischief, well, it usually turns into nothing little. Plus I was new in the country and just starting my visa process, so getting in trouble was not an option.
In the morning, I awoke to a knock on my door. I got to the door and paused, I didn’t know anyone that would actually knock on my door, so I waited to open it. There was another knock, and I asked who it was. “Po-leet-sia” came back the reply. I opened the door to see a police officer who blurted something in Slovak. I told him in English I didn’t understand. He motioned as if he was putting on a coat and said, “Sako!” the pointed down the stairs, “You, Me, Go, Now.” I shrugged, “Why?, Where?” He replied, “You have Friends?” I turned around and realized that the apartment was empty, my friends hadn’t returned.
So I grabbed a jacket and went outside. They put me in the back of a police car and sped away. I asked the officer in the car where we were going. He said, “Police house.” I asked why. He said, “you have friends?” and smiled. I was scared. What happened to my friends? Where they ok? Where they alive? The officer looked at me, motioned like he was drinking and said, “Friends!” And laughed. My relief that they were ok, quickly turned to anger.
We got to the police station and in direct line of sight from the door was a small damp jail cell built under the crumbling concrete stairs. Standing inside with his hands on the bars and head hanging low avoiding my gaze was one of my friends. My blood started to boil. The officer led me past him to a small room. The room was empty except for a single chair and a radiator. Handcuffed to the radiator sitting on the floor was friend number two. The officer asked, “Friend?” I said, “Not Friend!” The officer looked confused, “Not friend?” I paused, took a breath and complied, “Yes, I know him.” So the officer uncuffed him, then let my other friend out of the small cell, and asked us to sit in the hall and wait.
No one said a word.
Eventually the officer called me to an office and gave me the phone. On it was another officer that spoke English, “Hello, you speak English, yes? “ “yes I replied. Why are my friends here?” The officer then explained. “You know these men? They say they know you, they are staying with you and their things are in your flat.”
“That’s true, “ I replied. “What did they do? What is wrong?”
“Oh, no problem,” the officer assured me. “There is no problem.”
“But you arrested my friends.”
“No, not arrest. No problem.” He replied.
“Then why did you lock them up like animals?”
“Oh, a little drunk. No problem. We just need to make a small report and everyone can go. It will take a little time to get a translator to you. Just wait. Not arrested. Everything is fine.”
“Wait, so you arrested them because they were drunk? They did nothing wrong? No problem, just drunk?”
“No, no problem. Not Arrested.“ replied the officer. “A little time and you can go. Wait please.”
So I gave the phone to the nearby officer and went back in the hall.
My friends looked at me, I was still angry, but calmed down and actually started to smile. “No problem, they said, just that you were a little drunk.” I turned to one, “What the hell happened?”
My friends looked a bit peeved, and started to explain the story.
They stayed in town til early in the morning. When they got back to my apartment, they realized they forgot a key. So they rang the door buzzer hoping to wake me up. I didn’t. So they went around the building, and since I lived on the first floor, started to throw small rocks at my bedroom window. I still didn’t wake. So eventually they went back to the front door and tried the buzzer again. All of a sudden, a police car jumped the curb, lights flashing on them and police officers jumped out and pulled their guns. Immediately after, another police car showed up followed by a SWAT truck with more bodies and guns and now dogs jumping towards them. My friends froze, still ringing the doorbell, shocked, scared, wondering if this was the end. After a minute, one of the officers said something, and realizing it was a mistake, got everyone to calm down. The officer asked them in broken English what was happening and my friends tried to explain to him that they live here, forgot their keys and just wanted to get inside and go to bed.
It turned out that a neighbor had called, we’re guessing thinking they were mafia and making a hit. After arriving the police quickly realized it was a mistake.
So with the other officers leaving, the one cop started to ring my buzzer. I didn’t wake. Then he walked around the building and started throwing things at my bedroom window. Nothing. The cop then said to my friends,
“He not here.”
“No,he’s here.” My friends explained. “He’s sleeping.”
“He not here.” The cop replied, “He is….at….police.”
Confused, my friends looked at each other, looked at the cop, “No, he’s not at police, he is here, he is sleeping.”
The cop said, “No, he is at police, we go.” At that, one cop car pulled up, one friend was thrown in the back seat, and the car sped away. Then a second car came, my other friend was thrown in the back, and they sped away as well. When both arrived, they police took all their things and locked them up til I came.
“What time did you get here?” I asked. “about 5 am.” They replied. So they had been locked up in the jail now for over 2 hours, for nothing.
Just then one of the officers pulled me in the back room and started to ask me questions. Where I was from, how long I had been in Slovakia, why I was here. Then he confiscated my idea, wallet, phone and all my possessions and told to wait in the hall with the others. I was being “Not Arrested” as well for some reason.
The translator did not come til about 12 noon. 5 hours after I arrived, 7 since they “not arrested” my friends, tired, hungry, a little hung over. Finally, we could file the report and get out of there. When the translator arrived, they took me in a back room, and started to ask me what happened. As I explained, an officer was typing my response through the translator pecking with two fingers on an old typewriter I swear had DDR engraved on the side.
As we finished the report, I asked the office if this would affect my visa application. He said, “not arrested.” I replied that I understood that, but they were making a formal report, and how would this affect my visa status. To which he just shrugged his shoulders and replied, “vee vill see.” Nice response. After which, he pulled the paper out of the DDR manual typewriter and threw the paper on a stack of other papers in the corner of the office about a meter high. I started no to worry about it.
I left the room, they took us to pick up our things and we left. My work day was shot, my friends missed their planes, we were tired, hungry, and a bit frustrated from an incredible ordeal of being, “not arrested.” As we left, the cops called to us, waved, made drinking gestures, and said in their best English, “Have a nice day!”
Welcome to Slovakia.
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