Hostel (Still have both my kidneys... so far)

A drop of sweat makes its way past my brow, eager to meet its companion. But their meeting was too much for them to handle. They fell off my cheek and onto the bed.

The fan has a consistent tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat when it works, if it works at all.

“It sounds like an air strike… like machine guns,” Ben says. The Portugese man was attempting to make the fan work in our room—one of the blades had broken last night when the man from New Zealand accidentally tipped it over in his sleep. The Portugese woman and I were trying to make the blinds work so that we could get some light in our room, and get rid of the obnoxious, piercing red color that permeated into everything from these horrendous window coverings.

The light in our bathroom is broken.

At least it’s not noisy on the 6^th floor. And for a group of 20-somethings (and at least one 19 year old), who’re looking for a shower and a safe place to sleep, this is more than enough.  

If you’ve lived in a dorm, you’ve lived in a hostel. Let me clarify. If you’ve lived in Barret, The Honors College, you haven’t lived in a hostel. If you’ve lived on North Campus, you’d be a little closer. I think “dorms” only exist in America, from what I remember, places to live in at school in India are called “hostels” anyway. I wonder if that’s true everywhere else. I wonder what kind of image the word “hostel” conjures up for Americans versus Europeans… the world of semantics is so interesting (and always aggravating).

In any case, there are 8 of us in this room—2 Americans, 2 Portuguese, 1 New Zealander, 2 Germans, and 1 Frenchman. Some are here on vacation, some are using the hostel as a temporary residence while they go house-hunting, the Frenchman is here pursuing a record deal, the New Zealander is from a small town and just up and left to try his luck here.

I have never been among such a diverse group of people in my life. My curiosity is a glutton, and it’s extremely satisfied.

On a side note, whenever anyone asks us where we're from, we always say “America”. Then, they always ask us what state, which is interesting because I don’t imagine people having that much of an interest in American geography. Some know where Arizona is, some don’t, but all ask. Is that a custom? Am I being rude in not asking them which states they’re from in their respective countries?