As many of you know, I have been looking for a place to live in Bratislava while I attend a post-graduate course in historic preservation for the next nine months. Exactly one week ago, I got on the early train from Kosice to Bratislava and chugged all 6 hours across the country—without knowing where I would be living when I got there. I decided to look at it as an adventure, after all, what was the worst that could happen? Spend the next week in an overpriced Blave hotel? (Blave is Slovak slang for “Bratislava,” by the way.) Not the end of the world.

I figured I had the first night covered. I'd stay with my friend Dominika in her dorm, and she'd help me look at the flat for rent that Karla helped me find on the internet. Oh, and spend the majority of every day in class, starting with the very next day. Everything went great, though! We visited the flat—a spacious, brand-new attic flat with an adorable English-speaking elderly couple living in the house below.

We returned to the dorm in high spirits. They kind of dropped when we saw the guys who check your ID papers at the entrance to the dorm examining every student's papers. Dominika explained that it wasn't exactly legal for me to spend the night there. “But we have a free bed because one girl is out of town and we paid for it!” We stepped aside and prayed that they'd be kind to me, but when the two old men saw that I didn't have student ID papers, we were pulled aside into the little room where they sat and waited for students to interrogate. The room smelled like old men and had a shabby cot on the floor (just in case you were wondering).

Dominika and the ID-checker men talked for what seemed like ages. I understood enough Slovak to catch exactly 0.5% of what was said. Finally, she turned to me and explained that the guy had taken her ID papers and would give them back if we returned in an hour...and complied with whatever verdict he had reached at that point. We hung out in her room for an hour and returned, hoping the man would be more merciful this time. No such luck. She wasn't gonna get her ID papers back unless he saw me leaving the building that night...and not coming back.

After calling around, Dominika came up with a plan. We went to the dorm next door and called at this one window. (It felt very Romeo and Juliet.) Suddenly something fell from an open window. “Take this and show it to the man, but don't open it. Say 'good evening' to him in Slovak, but don't say anything else, and whatever you do, don't say something in English. Oh! Here, follow these two girls in—see you in the morning!” Dominika gave me a quick hug and dashed out of sight. I walked toward the door, praying that the guy didn't ask me to open up the papers...revealing the fact that I look nothing like girl who owned them.

“Dobry vecer,” I mumbled to the man, trying to hide my accent. He glanced at the paper in my hand and said something that I completely did not understand. I decided to walk away and pretend that he hadn't said anything. I hoped he hadn't just asked me something important...or anything at all that required a response. I walked on, suddenly realizing I had no idea where I was going. A girl was standing at the bottom of the steps, so I went over to her.

“Hi! Anna? Don't let him hear us speaking in English!” she whispered. Praise God! I had a place to sleep!

The next day, I ducked out of class as the lecturer was explaining how to write a research paper and called the lady with the flat. “Can I move in in a couple of hours?” I asked. She agreed to let me do it! Some people talk about how we have an “eleventh-hour” God. This felt a bit more like a “three-o'clock-the-next-afternoon” sort of thing, but He had the whole thing under control. Good thing, too, because I sure didn't!