Hostels can be lame

I started this post ranting about some loud English-speakers in my hostel who seem to have an exaggerated preference for the f word, but found myself unable to pinpoint exactly why I had a problem with them. They seem to be following the typical hostel schedule: stay in a place for a couple of days where you meet some people from other countries, drink together and go out dancing at some clubs. I often like to consider myself an "enlightened" traveler because I am staying here longer, speak Spanish, went to a congress, etc., but the truth is that I have participated in the hostelling itinerary while I've been here as well. And you know what? It can be fun. So what was it that bugged me so much about this group? Maybe that I see a little of myself in them and am reminded that I'm not as "enlightened" as I would like to be. Or maybe, since I've been living down here for a month now, I'm just tired of the temporal, superficial hostel lifestyle. Or maybe I just don't like the f word.

Anyway, the hostel that I'm at is actually a pretty good one. My friend Mesha and I stayed at the other one in its chain in Cuzco (Peru) and had a great time with the exceptionally helpful staff, so I feel good about staying here. It just opened last year, has reasonable (though not cheap) prices, great location, free coffee and internet, and a good amount of people. It is incredibly easy to meet people staying in hostels. I call it the principle of accelerated intimacy. Because all the travelers are in an unfamiliar place, have at least some feelings of uncertainty and are generally interested in meeting other people, it is really easy to bond and find yourself eating dinner and chatting with someone you met a few hours ago. Because these relationships sometimes only last for a few hours, however, they can be tiring as well.

Having dropped off my friend Mesha at the airport tonight for flight home, I have tomorrow to myself. On the agenda: write, read, figure out how to "liberate" my cell phone so that I can use it in Bolivia. Say hello to Oregon for me, Mesha!

On another note, my dad asked whether the title of this blog refers to the book I am reading by Henri Nouwen, which is of his travels through Bolivia and Peru in the early 1980s. The answer is yes, though I decided, which I now regret, to leave the book in Bolivia, so I won't be referencing it for a few more days. My plan, though, is to incorporate passages from the book in this blog. The book is called "Gracias."

Speaking of books, I am currently halfway through Paulo Coelho's "The Alchemist," recommended to me by my friend David. I am reading it in Spanish, which yes I am proud of. Today I picked up "The Open Veins of Latin America" (in English) by the Uruguayan author Eduardo Galeano which I am looking forward to digging into.