I put up a picture of the Valley of lights in Italy and I couldn’t help thinking of my time in Italy when I was not really in Italy.
Took a train from Geneva headed to Milan. About 10 minutes to our destination, some men in uniforms (not sure if they were custom officials or immigration) came into the coach and asked for identification. I don’t speak the language but everyone seemed to be reaching for different forms of identification. Except the lady by me who went back to the book she was reading.
One of the men in Uniform got to us and from what I gathered she had no identification on her, he seemed distracted like he wasn’t paying any attention to what she was saying but was focused on something else. I followed his gaze and it fell on my Nigerian passport. sigh!!
the lady was still explaining but all his senses were now merged to one sense. Sight. He couldn’t take his eyes of it. For what must have been seconds but seemed like forever he finally reached for my passport. He went straight to my bio data page and for a second I thought he was having an aneurysm because he eyes grew wide, his complection deffinitly darkened and a string of words left his parted lips in quick succession. Even if i spoke the language i would not have understood the words through all the spittle i was trying to avoid.
I had no idea what he was about so I just sat there and watched him about to blow a blood vessel until another uniformed man politely asked that I bring down my luggage, and then he retrieved my passport for hyper active man still rambling in what I guess was Italian and handed it back to me . Only then did I remember my international passport was issued in the Middle East ….. Sigh!
I got up, luggage in tow and followed both of them to a different coach designed like an office. A few more uniformed men were already searching a man who from my quick glance at his passport confirmed my suspission. He was Nigerian. There are people without identification on this train and the only people being searched are the two Nigerians. Come on!!
A different uniformed man was going through my luggage and came across a false zip. I was responding to polite mans’ questions when he leaned away and said something I didn’t understand to hyper active man a little sharply. His sharp tone made me glance around and noticed a Swiss army knife in hyper mans’ hand. Dude wanted to cut up my luggage because of a decorative zip. Seriously though?
After the search, Nice guy assisted in putting my things back in my luggage and I went back to my seat and later got off and headed to my hotel.
All I wanted to do that night was go to the opera.
Got dressed, got directions from the concierge and hailed a cab. Before I could get into the cab, a mob seemed to have turned the corner and was headed my way. They were screaming but I could only make out a few words. Nigeria and prostitute. "Oh common" I said to myself. enough with the racial profiling. It made sense to run back in to the hotel and I got in just in the nick of time.
Then i woke up. Everything else happened but the mob scene was a dream and the mob noise that penetrated my consciousness happened to be a few happy people getting ready for a night out.
Thing is, as much as I knew it was just a dream.... but was it though? Could be a revelation of some kind? Of course it was nothing but what if it was something?
I love learning about new cultures more than anything else but rather than head out as planned, I had a bath, got back into bed and slept my one night in Italy away. I didn’t even go downstairs to the lounge nor did i have dinner. In the morning, I headed to the airport in Malpensa and flew to Brussels.
I should probably go back to Italy because as it is i have not been.
