Tyler is Skyping with his mom when we receive a knock on the door. Strange, who in the world could that be? I open it up, and our guest turns out to be one of the meek and smiley women who works here. She beckons me downstairs with a bow and a "sorry, sorry, please come!"
As I follow the woman, feeling oddly small and nervous as if being summoned to the principle's office, I'm worried for a moment that the formidable proprietress of Shanti Lodge is going to chew me out for bringing food into our room every day. It's clearly against the posted rules, and yet I do it each morning so we can have picnic breakfasts. I thought I'd slipped past undetected with my goodies, but maybe not?
Thankfully, upon arriving in the office, the woman seems unaware of my subversive acts and is not intending to scold, ground, or fine me. Instead, she asks about Tyler's passport. I tell her our tale of woe, and how there's nothing we can do but wait for the Embassy to open on Monday.
She smiles, seeming almost pleased by our plight. Then, she proceeds to inform me that they do, in fact, have our passport! It was locked away in some safe they never use. She apologizes for the inconvenience, but I'm so elated and relieved I don't care. I'm just anxious to feel the blue booklet between my fingertips for reassurance.
Then, the boss lady waves one of her employees over to the safe to fetch it. Thanking them, clutching the precious pages in my palm, I run up stairs to tell Tyler. Overwhelming relief to have avoided a nightmarish day on Tuesday sweeps over us both.