Hostellers
are a motley group of people. But they tend to the more laid back,
new age spirituality kind who talk about finding themselves, the
universe conversing with their soul, karma of their past lives, etc.
I must confess I rarely mention that I'm an engineer and have a
office job. I think it stops conversation as I appear to be elitist.
I have had numerous random experiences at hostels. I was offered weed
on one occasion. Once my room had no floor but was just sand. Another
time, the hostel had an outdoor hotub overlooking the Pacific, a
million dollar view for $5. Then in this hostel above a nightclub, I
had Kanye lullaby me to sleep. You have no idea who your roommates
will be. I always carry ear plugs and eye covers so that I can zone
out when I need the zzz's.
I
think the best part is meeting people and listening to their stories
of life, travel and adventure. These are people I'd never meet in my
friend circles from a tech job and Church. It opens your mind and
broadens your horizons. It enriches your life experience vicariously.
You connect with a complete stranger over the most random thing. As
an Indian, I'm the exotic guy who has lived their eastern
spirituality. I politely mention that I'm Catholic but helpfully joke
that I had a pet snake and rode an elephant to school as a kid. I
once met a biker from NZ who biked in the Yukon territory and Alaska
for months. Then there was this girl who moved from Wisconsin to
Puerto Rico in search of finding a calling in the tropical paradise.
I came across a Chinese girl who spoke better Spanish than English
because of all her travels in Latin America. Once, a hostel host
mailed me a $20 bill as a refund for the key deposit. Money I had
thought lost after we had checked out before he had woken up. I was
pleasantly surprised by his integrity.
Of all my hostel adventures, one will always remain etched in my memory. Last December, I was driving after dark on a cold rainy night on Hwy 101 in the remote NW corner of Washington state. The Google Maps voice said “You have arrived”. I thought to myself, “Where?”. Here I was stopped on a pitch dark highway. There was no sign of civilization. Suddenly I spotted a small sign that read “Hostel” and a narrow unlit driveway leading up besides it. I pulled up slowly to a small house with a dim porch light. I pondered whether I should go in or just drive off? I chose the former, thinking that if he has a website, he must be legit. Yeah, sound logic! An old man opened the door, which creaked on it's hinges. I greeted him nervously and peeped inside. It was his house. It was messy but looked clean. We exchanged what could pass off as pleasantries and I asked if he had any other guests. He replied none and mumbled something about off season. The last guest was a week before me. I took a deep breath, hoped he made it out alive and went to fetch my bag from the car.
The next morning when I woke up, Jim was already up. I asked him what my 20 min chores were. He told me to vacuum a few rooms. And he actually watched me do it as I tried to be diligent in getting under the tables and around the furniture. Finally I was done and I drove off into the pre dawn darkness. Back on Hwy 101, I wondered whether that was just a dream. Sometimes reality can be stranger than dreams.
