“Abraham — the first backpacker. ”
I chuckled at that one. It’s the first sign we see when we finally arrived at our accommodation in Tel Aviv named Abraham Hostel.
As we enter I see people, cool people, hanging around the courtyard and I’m feeling a little intimidated.
We check in and we were handed sheets, towels, and instructed to bring them back upon check out. Breakfast is at 6:45 to 10:30 AM and please kindly wash the dishes you use after eating, if you use the kitchen to cook, follow the rules posted, here are your keys, map.
She breathes.
You are all set.
We begin the walk to our room.
Bold, bright colors everywhere — yellows, blues, greens. Graffiti and pop/modern art hang on the walls. Signs of daily activities posted on the elevator wall — Hebrew and Arabic language classes, cooking classes, pub crawl, yoga, concerts…
Our room is on the first floor. It’s also where the lounge, bar, dining area and kitchen are located. As we get closer we hear music, loud music.
A big, tall metal door awaits us. I push forward and the loud techno-EDM (-ish) music gets even louder. We enter this huge open space that looks like a warehouse and suddenly I’ve entered not just cool-people-zone but rebel-zone and tech-startup-zone. I expected James Dean (RIP), Zuckerberg and Garry V to pop out at any moment.
Now I’m a lot intimidated.
Worse, now I have to walk through all these people: playing billiards & foosball, drinking & chatting in the bar, swinging in the hammocks, lounging on the couch with their laptops, having discussions on how to save/destroy the world…
Oh… On second look there are ten year old kids swinging and running around. A toddler crawls close by. Sigh of relief. I’ll fit right in.
We continue to walk amidst this kaleidsocope of people and colors and motion. Soaking it all in.
I feel myself shrinking… I feel myself expanding…
I wanted to hug everyone. And run away from all of them.
Another big metal door comes into view, we open and close it behind us. It muffles about 60% of the music, now a slow coffeehouse tune. We then see a series of doors and room numbers and people hanging out in the hallway. Turn left, turn right.
Ah, our room, 117.
We open the door and there are 2 bunk beds across from each other, a room for 4 people. Both bottom beds are occupied. First come, first serve. Nick & I will both be climbing stairs tonight.
Our first roommate is laying on her bed. She smiles & greets us. She’s probably on her late 50s or early 60s. She’s reading a book. How to Die.
Our other roommate has stuff on the bed but is nowhere to be found.
We quietly put our luggage in the locker under the bunk beds, secure it with locks we’ve brought with us, wave goodbye to our one roommate and head out to look for food.
***
Our last roommate comes later that night. I was already sleeping but the sound of the door opening woke me up.
I hear a voice.
Ah, so our last roommate is a female. Oh, actually it sounds deeper now, roommate is a male.
Then I hear talking. A conversation. AH. A male and a female.
They turn on one of the small lights. Then turn it off. The bathroom door opens …and then it closes. After a while it’s complete silence. I was getting back to my elusive sleep when slowly but surely … uhmm … moans and groans fill the room. Very, very softly at first and then it gets… louder …
Much louder.
And clearer.
You know what they say when you come face to face with a bear in the woods? Play dead. So even though I have the craziest impulse to laugh and cough, and cover my ears and listen, I freeze, afraid to make any kind of noise.
Then comes another sound.
Also loud. Also clear.
Snoring!
Our other roommate is sleeping soundly! (Ah, ain’t this all punny?)
Moaning. Groaning. Snoring.
A full orchestra. The soundtrack of our very first night at our very first hostel. I can check this one off my bucket list.
At some point, these very unique nature sounds eventually stops (yes even the snoring) and finally, it seems we are all quietly sleeping.
Except a few hours later, yep, it starts again. A mix tape especially designed for hostels and it’s remarkable lack of privacy.
By this time, it’s 5 AM. I’m wide awake now. Well, we are all probably wide awake.
Nick waves at me from across the room, rolling his eyes. We wait for the sounds to subside. It takes a while but eventually the coast is clear. We climb down our ladders, as quietly as we can with creaky metal stairs. We both quickly brush our teeth and head to the dining area.
When I get to the hallway, I burst out laughing.
***
In the early morning, it’s a lot more quiet. It almost feels like a food court right after the mall opens.
A number of people were already having coffee, reading books. Planning their day, maybe? Or jet-lagged like us?
After about an hour, breakfast is ready, served buffet style — bread, salads, yogurt, jams…
Slowly, I awaken to my surroundings. And I was surprised and amazed at the diversity around me.
To the table on our right is a young European couple with 2 girls: one about 3 years old and the other a baby, definitely less than a year old. They were eating breakfast as casually as if they’re in their own kitchen table.
Farther down is a big Spanish-speaking family laughing and chatting with kids between ten to fifteen years old.
To our left is a man, eating quietly. He’s in his late 50s or early 60s and when he stood up to leave I noticed the small bag pack on his shoulder and his one mechanical leg.
Spread out everywhere are male and female, young and old, children and adult, alone, in a group.
You know, all those things we’ve heard about who can and cannot travel? They flew out of the window. Just like that.
We took our time eating. Dazed. That we’re actually here.
Here.
Surrounded by so many people we don’t know yet somehow they seem familiar. Somehow they feel just like us.
When we return to our room our lady roommate with the book How To Die has already checked out. Our male & female roommates were cuddling in the corner.
Yeah… A tiny bit awkward — but I guess hostels have a way of creating and then normalizing rather strange situations such as this.
Nick (smart guy) goes to shower right away (our bathroom is in the same room in case I forgot to mention that before) … and here I am trying hard not to listen to the conversation happening literally two feet away from me.
Can the real roommate please stand up?
In the end, our roommate is the guy, as he so charmingly, at first, and then very firmly (when charm didn’t work) asked the female voice to leave, so he can get ready. As soon as Nick stepped out of that bathroom, he was in faster than lightning. She was left with nothing to do but leave.
After emerging from the shower, our roommate officially introduces himself. He’s young, confident and carefree. He goes on to tell his story. He grew up in Pennsylvania, has now lived and worked outside of the US for more than 4 years. He works for NATO as a consultant, jumps out of planes (skydive) and is about to head to Egypt to surf. He gave us good tips about traveling (cook instead of buy, which cities are cheap vs expensive) — said goodbye and wished us luck.
That was that for our first roommates.
We bid them hello and we bid them goodbye. Tonight we’ll have new ones.
***
They were two girls from Germany and they arrived at around 7 PM. They were friendly and funny and comfortable as if they’ve met many roommates before us. Meanwhile, here I am, in my head, trying to figure out how this all works.
It’s like traveling alone on a plane. Is it rude to not talk to your seat mate? Is hello enough? Or should I go to Level 2 and ask one of the these questions: “Where are you from?” “What do you do?” “Do you want to talk?”
Is this a good opportunity to share our life story and learn from each other? Are these questions normal? Is there a manual somewhere I should have read? Should I google the answers right now?
Nick came and I breath a sigh of relief.
They arrived from Jerusalem and they seem conflicted about the city.
“It was very… religious. I didn’t expect that at all. Maybe we should have read up about it more,” one of them said ruefully.
As they unpack, Nick & I decided to hang out at the lounge area. Earlier in the day we noticed the staff cleaning and removing all furniture (couch, tables, chairs, hammock) to set up a stage.
When we got there a group of musicians were gathered around doing a sound check. They started playing. It was all instrumental and soulful. The music sounds like how I feel in the inside. Surreal, quiet, strange, sweet — a little like that space between dreaming and waking up.
We find the only remaining couch in this big open space and I sit, then lay down, and soon I was dozing in & out, the music a wonderful lullaby.
After a while, the place gets packed. It’s an open event and people from the city are here for this musician, Mark Eliyahu. It’s free for us who are staying at the hostel though. We got lucky.
I remain in the couch — half awake, half asleep. Watching people flirt, kiss, eat, drink, dance, sing, talk, smoke, have fun. One in a while, I would get up to capture a video of the music.
When we left Connecticut, I wasn’t sure how this would all turn out. But for a first day, this was pretty good.
After the music ends, we go back to our room.
The staff stayed behind and was cleaning up. Without a care in the world that it’s after midnight, they blast their happy music.
I didn’t hear that part, I must have slept right away. Our two roommates told us.
“Was it that loud the night before?” they ask.
“No,” Nick and I reply. Honestly, I wasn’t really sure. If it was, the other noises inside our room muffled it all out.
After breakfast our roommates informed us that they decided to check out a few days earlier and go to an AirBnB instead.
We bid them hello and we bid them goodbye.
We had new roommates again that night but we didn’t meet them. We checked out at 5 AM for our trip to Jordan.
***
On our last night at our first ever hostel, (coming back from our 3 days in Jordan) Nick & I both get a free beer because this time we booked direct. We go to the bar and redeem our drinks. It’s Open-Mike-Night and a band called Marhaba was singing.
I love their music here, so unfamiliar …and so familiar. We sit closer to the stage and soon a few people were dancing. Next to us are shouts of a group playing very intense foosball. When that group disbanded, a couple guys took over and invited us to play with them.
“I really don’t know how to play,” I told them. They didn’t reply. Instead they grunted and gestured us to join them anyway. After a good ten minutes, my stranger teammate is looking pretty frustrated… Soon, another guy approaches the table and excitedly cheered whoever was doing good. No loyalty, whatsoever. I give him my spot and he beams.
We bid them hello and we bid them goodbye.
Before we call it a night, Nick and I stop at one of the public restrooms labeled W.C. in the hostel. Fun fact, there are no male or female restrooms here. It’s unisex. On our first day it was a little strange — washing hands with the opposite sex, looking at the mirror together? What? Unheard of! (See our couple picture, I mean, goals. Ha.) By our third day, we were big fans. How many times have I wanted to use the men’s restroom because there’s always a long line in the women’s? Too many! I honestly don’t know how they kept these public bathrooms so clean but it was immaculate — even the toilet seats were always respectfully down. Was there a seminar on this we didn’t hear of? (We got so used to this arrangement that when we went to our trip in Jordan, Nick kept going to the women’s bathroom without thinking that it’s a WOMEN’s bathroom. Exclusive. Ha.)
When we get to our new room, (another 2 bunk beds for 4 people) we expected our two new roommates to be there but no, they have not yet arrived. We set up our stuff, decided to take the top beds — it just seemed easier that way and fall right asleep.
When I woke up, it was morning. The first thing I do is sniff. I am being confronted by a very strong smell: an expensive perfume mixed with very potent… hmm, sweat, maybe? Feet? Underarms? Garbage?
I look up to the corner of the room to find Nick already awake.
Hurriedly leaving the room, I ask him if he smelled it? He nods.
“Do you think it’s us?”
We stopped and checked, just to make sure. You never know… Shoes, clothes, bags.
Phew, it’s not us! We think.
***
“Everyone should stay at a hostel at least once,” Nick says once we’ve checked out. “When you stay at a hostel, you become less hostile,” he continues.
I laugh. Stay at a hostel and you’ll become less hostile.
Yeah, with humanity being this colorful, that sounds about right.
