Your Fellow Travelers at the Budget Hostel

Slightly exaggerated forms of real people met while in country X

Olaf is a student from Hamburg who has been away from home for two months. He loves the culture of country X because it is so different from home, and everything is cheap. This is the first time he’s really traveled, and he can’t get enough, he tells you as he hops around the room. His eyes have opened to the wonders of the world. How many countries have you been to, he wants to know, because he’s taking a poll. He really wants to make friends and won’t stop talking. He has volunteered at this or that and otherwise found every reason in the universe to stay on the road. Eventually, he will run out of money and have to return to school. That’s what his parents have told him, anyway, since they are the ones funding it all.

Anna lives for hang gliding. Country X has spectacular hang gliding in the eastern mountains. She is cooking in the common room kitchen because hang gliders have specific dietary requirements and can’t just eat willy-nilly on the street. It is ironic because her hang glider is still at the airport of country X’s capital city, awaiting customs clearance. Her boyfriend is there right now, trying to cajole the right government official into releasing it. She really wants to go to country Z next, because the rumor is that the hang gliding there is even better. There isn’t much else Anna wants to talk about.

Also cooking in the common room kitchen is Xavier. His unkept hair droops down almost into the frying pan, and he moves everywhere like a sloth. He has found the cheapest possible way to feed himself, because he doesn’t have enough money for anything else. He will stretch every dollar, peso, or rupee as far as humanly possible. He has been here longer than anyone and has no plan to return to his home country, ever. He spends his day making knotted bracelets with a crude image of country X’s flag in hopes of selling one to…well, you. If you make friends with him and buy a bracelet, you’ll probably end up sitting out on the veranda smoking weed and engaging in deep philosophical conversations until 2 AM. He hates all politics, especially French.

The older couple sitting together on the couch, reading books, are Jan and Steve, originally from Duluth. They speak softly and are friendly with everyone. They keep to themselves most of the time, don’t feel compelled to socialize, and look to be over twice the age of most other guests. Why are they here? They are fully outfitted in Columbia outerwear and look as if they could easily afford a nicer place with far fewer mosquitoes. They smile, are agreeable with everything you say, and send out only good vibes about country X. And countries A through F if you keep asking them. There isn’t a mean or unhappy bone in their bodies. They radiate peaceful contentment like a pair of Krishnas. They only go back to the US once a year, at Christmas, to see the grandkids.

The rugged, bearded guy, almost blending into the corner, is Mikkel. He looks like he is from the far north of somewhere. His rumpled clothing has been washed a thousand times by hand in hotel sinks. He’s in his 50s, with no spouse or kids. He says nothing until someone within earshot mentions hearing a harrowing tale about the infamous Gun Run, a road through a restive part of Mozambique that connects Malawi and Zimbabwe. Then he saunters over slowly and says, “I did that.” Three times. And he got shot at the second time. He’s done more than everyone else in the room combined, and will still be out there like the Energizer Bunny after everyone else has moved on to some other phase in their life.

Kareem is one of the first people who talks to you when you check in. He almost immediately tells you where he’s from, and is delighted when you admit to never having met a budget traveler from that country. He’s nervous and excited all the time, and it seems like half the people in the guesthouse actively avoid talking to him. You wonder why, until he takes a conversational opening to tell a story about an experience he had once, and it contains a strangely racist undertone. He looks at you hopefully for understanding, entirely oblivious to how he sounds. You feel bad because he is really trying to fit into this Eurocentric traveler scene and doesn’t yet know how it all works.

One of those people who avoids Kareem is Maria. She studied the political and human rights history of country X, is here to see for herself, and has vague plans to help the opposition and set things right. She is full of fight, ready to take on the global establishment. If you want, you can get her lit up about the politics of any other country you want to discuss; she has an opinion on all of them, including yours (so you might want to avoid mentioning where you are from). But caution, you need to know your stuff. Otherwise, the conversation will quickly turn into a lecture about how you’ve been duped by the media. And then she will tire of you. That is unfortunate, because she’s kinda hot.