Not the Locals

I believe that there are only a few places in this world that can collect such an assortment of different cultures in one place like a hostel can.  Globetrotters of all ages from all four corners of the earth use hostels as places to party, exchange cultural ideas, hook up, banter and, occasionally, sleep.  Whether it is two in the afternoon or four in the morning, the potential for an enlightening conversation or a healthy laugh is but a sociable greeting away. 

Gerald

                My stay in Rio has been anything short of dull.  This is thanks in large part to the people that I have had the pleasure of sharing my time with.  The people who I eat my meals next to, the ones that want to go lounge on the beach and the others who like to throw back some brews and yell at one another in boisterous voices.  The following people I will list here include the overly sarcastic, the excessively friendly, the soft spoken yet laidback, the educated, the wanderers and a very angry German girl. 

                It seems fitting that I start with the two Irish blokes that I am having a round with as I write this.  Gerald, who has been exploring this world for the past year, is one of the most sarcastic people I have ever met.  It is almost like he speaks in reverse sometimes.  He is built like a rugby player and towers over most other people; sometimes causing the locals to crane their heads when he rises from a chair.  His face has a layer of scruff that seems to not have grown in the slightest bit this past week and his hair is jet black and neatly cut.  Often the first to break the ice with a sarcastic comment, he is not what you would expect of someone who has plans to take over his parent’s teacher supply store.  He often vanishes in a club to go, as he puts it, “Do Damage.”  When he reemerges later on from the seething masses he usually has smirking blonde in tow. 

                Conor carries a more laid back attitude and just does not seem to mind about anything at all.  I am convinced that it may not be possible for him to show signs of drunkenness with the exception of some rosy cheeks.  Also built like a rugby player with a head of hair that compliments his “Whatever, let’s do it” attitude, he joined Gerald for the final six weeks of his voyage.  Conor and I had the pleasure of being entertained by a very drunk Brazilian attempting to beat box and free style rap when the electricity on our booze cruise went out.  I am not sure if this guy is capable of being in a bad mood but he is one of the last people I would like to see should someone ever make him angry.    

                Over the course of my week here I have also grown quite fond of two German siblings, Raoul and Nora.  These two were taking a break from chilling in the flurry of activity that is Buenos Aries to take advantage of Rio’s white beaches.

The Germans

                Raoul has spent the past few months working in Buenos Aries, Argentina in a local’s bar and not worrying too much about where life is headed.  He can speak over four languages fluently and his manner on how he holds himself shows he has had a strong education growing up.  He sports a neatly shaven line and a bristly patch of facial hair above and below his lip, making him resemble an old Caribbean pirate when he grins at his own jests.  He has reinforced my belief that there is no such thing as a bad joke or one that can go too far.   The usual social limits of acceptance, that most others do not dare approach, he leaps over with reckless abandon while wearing a blindfold.  After graduating high school his interest in medicine lead him to enlist in the German military, where he served for two years as a paramedic.  He describes his experience as a self confidence builder but, I find it hard to believe he needs any more of that.  The man can bullshit with anyone.

                His younger sister Nora came to see her big brother for a month in South America before she begins her higher level education.  She is an atypical mix of proper lady and free spirited youth.  As well as her brother, she is fluent in a multitude of languages, well traveled and educated.  Her English is amusing to listen to as she mixes her speech with part posh pronunciations from England and occasionally throws in some American slang; much to my appreciation and chagrin.  Her blue eyes contain an impression of holding onto a confident intelligence and an adventurous sense of curiosity. Both are traits that seem unrivaled by other people who are her age.  Raoul may not know it but, with an often cool and level head his little sister looks after him quite a bit. 

                I have always thought to myself that it is good idea to learn who your bartender is.  Tommy is no exception to this rule and boasts quite a unique and interesting story himself.  

He was originally born in the Dominican Republic and adopted by a white family from Sweden.  There he was brought up in Swedish culture till he set off on his own around Europe, refurbishing hotels.  He can speak Swedish (naturally), Danish, Norwegian and English fluently, which is not something you hear someone with skin as dark as his say.  He spent some time in London where he worked under television chef and personality Richard Corrigan.   There he gleaned and transformed fine-dining bartending into his passion; mixing clever bantering with comforting conversation as he creates concoctions.

Tommy

                After practicing the trade for some years in London he knew he wanted to travel to other places in the world.  He chose Latin America to learn more about his roots and the culture from where he was originally plucked away from when he was young.  He does not regret growing up in Europe though, and still keeps in touch with his family and friends back there.  Despite all that, he feels that when he does decide to settle down it will not be back there.  A devote follower of the Christian faith, he describes his travels now as a search for a home he has not felt that he has truly ever had.  For now he is living life in laidback Rio bartending and searching.

A quick honorable mention for the two American girls from Wisconsin is necessary for this post.  These two interned in NYC over the summer together and must have decided to end the season with some adventuring in Brazil.  I do not know where it went south but, these two did not once even look at each other in the four days they were at the hostel while I was there.  I heard from the two Irish who had seen them in another hostel that this is how they were weeks back too.  I cannot understand what forced them to stay together because they simply seemed so miserable in each other’s company.

There are so many other people to discuss and write about from my time here but we will end this entry with the angry German girl.  No one has talked to her but, everyone has had the pleasure of listening to her complaints.  The kitchen closes to early, towel rentals are a ridiculous notion, it is too loud in the common room and the list can most certainly go on should I have had the patience to listen.  The first night I was here I had the pleasure of trying to introduce myself and did not even warrant a friendly hostel nod.  Later, I learned her name as the “Angry German Girl” and promptly took note not to approach within a few meters again.  You cannot please everyone I guess.

For those who can though, hostel folk are some of the best people to kick it with while bouncing around a foreign land.  Whether you are looking to gain mountains of knowledge or just someone to bullshit with while having a drink, it is worth your time to invest some time in the common room of these worldly hang outs.