The Hostel As Home

As has been mentioned before, I live in a hostel. My bedroom has 8 beds. Some days I wake up to Brasileros dressed for an Arctic expedition inexplicable sleeping on top of their covers. Other days I fall asleep to girls who look like underwear models pracing around and modeling lacey things and fleshy things. Some days I have the room to myself. For nearly a week there was a group of Israeli girls, one of whom carried a worsening case of stank vag into every morning until their departure.

For a couple days there were a couple boys traveling together. At a time when there were ample chairs, vacant sofas even… they proceeded to settle on sitting on the stairs connecting the first and second floors proving that Urugauyos aren't the only Latinos inclinded to be in the way. After the second time I inconvenienced them refilling my coffee they retreated to some other stoop never to be seen again.

Several hundred people have been recieved and entertained in my home, and the blessing is they all leave. So few are the overtly annoying that I feel safe estimating 99% leave before wearing out their welcome. Such is the power that knowing I will outlast them provides. Late evening arrivals during their tour of the hostel are often shown the balcony with the words, "This is the balcony, and this is Aaron. He is living with us." Back in January when it hit me that everyone I was enjoying conversations with at the hostel eventually leaves, there was a bit of depression in that realization. Now, I realize how great a blessing that is. That the best leave before they have the chance to make memories that might not be so fond. Like the above fellows so accustomed to intimately yet asexually sitting ass to ass on stoops while they dick around on phones that they would ignore the sofa in their line of sight.

As the recent crisis, where I was possessed for days with certitude that I would be returning to old country reveiled that I had successfully made one or more friends, it revealed as well that I have a home. Nominally I rent a bed, locker, and hook for hanging my towel while recieving breakfast and use of common spaces. Effectively I have my morning corner of the balcony and my evening corner of the balcony where I read. I have nominally shared common furniture I gravitate towards out of a combination of habit and preference, and largely these tendancies… I am uncertain how… are largely respected by persons before I have even met them.

I have outlasted an increasingly large percentage of the paid and volunteer staff as they move on to their next adventures. There exists a friendliness and mutual respect necessary for living in the same building which we share. How much of my business they understand beyond the long and late hours is unknown, but their impression is it requires huevos por el piso. They also know better than to offer me beer, from experience.

I adjudicate disputes. I offer advice to travelers which is recieved with mixed levels of acceptance and consistent outcomes. My rural tourism credentials are solid.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *