Just Passing Through

I love the energy that you find in youth hostels; it's a universal one. In hostels all around the world, this fresh energy sputters out like water from sprinklers in a spring garden. People come from all over anxious for new discovery and exploration of their chosen destinations. This is, after all, what bonds them together--the thirst for adventure in a foreign land. You walk into any hostel and you're immediately met with the buzz of excitement and curiosity. People meeting each other for the first time, sharing their stories, laughter and learnings (a high degree of networking always taking place).

There is a sexual charge in the air too. Libidos are stirred and on high alert--the possibility of sex and romance is everywhere. I know I've had my fair share of hostel stories that have involved walking in on people locked in a passionate embrace (of sorts), or being kept up all night by the raucous shenanigans of new lovers on the top bunk.

People also become immediate friends, it almost seems superficial. But really, it's not. This is what happens when people find themselves in unfamiliar places, far from the comforts of their home; they seek out comradeship among like-minded folk running on the same juice of freshly squeezed spontaneity and zest. It's contagious, and one can't help but feel the rush when that connection has been established, albeit a short-term one.

Hostels occupy a liminal space; it is a fleeting kind of world where permanence doesn't exist. It is a place for those who are in-between places, and made up of transients who are mostly just "passing through"--hence the heightened sensibilities all around. It is a revolving door of new faces and an epicenter of diversity. Some come back and some never do, but none ever stay forever. Bonds are made and broken everyday. You may never again remember the names of the people you bunked with, but you will never forget the adventure.