by Vani Viswanathan
[box]Any of us who lived in a hostel would agree how much fun the days are. But perhaps unknown to ourselves, hostel life makes us discover ourselves. Vani Viswanathan tells us why she chose to live in a hostel, and why it was more than just fun. [/box]I have a strange confession to make. A large part of my decision to study overseas was influenced by the enticing thought of living in a hostel.
Much as my parents wouldn’t like to read the above sentence, it’s true. For long, for reasons then inexplicable to me, I had been fascinated by the idea of living in a small room that had everything I needed. I would fantasize about growing up, owning a caravan and driving around everyday. Practical person that I was, I had also thought of various things I could do to earn my upkeep as I travelled around the country thus. I realized later that this was what poor people did in the US, and the caravans were instead called ‘trailers’.
I eventually realized that this strange desire to get out was not because I wanted to get out of home at the earliest opportunity, but because I was craving to taste independence, test my priorities, and in a weird way, know myself better. Would I still be the anxious, easily upset, disorganized person that I was? How would I manage my money? Live with people I didn’t know?
And so off I left to Singapore for my university education, armed with a suitcase and a duffel bag bursting at the seams, which contained what I held dear to me then. I was incredibly excited upon reaching my hostel room. Enthusiastically shook hands with my Thai room mate, who kindly offered me her new pillow since she was going to stay the night elsewhere (which I politely refused in full spirit of independence – and not being sure what she would think of me if I borrowed from her during our very first meeting!) I slept the first night in an exalted state of excitement – so much so that I forgot to be homesick. And when I did feel homesick, I hurriedly unpacked, put up the photos of family and friends on the soft pin board, and pulled out my long-legged doll out of the duffel bag.
Thinking back, I realize I had a privileged hostel life here – I didn’t have to wash my clothes by hand, or queue up to shower; there were no hostel wardens monitoring when we went out and got back, and guidelines on who you could bring to your rooms were reasonable. Hostels in India, I believe, are in a whole other world. But no matter where in the world you live in a hostel, here’s why I think it’s an experience one shouldn’t ever miss. It’s your window to the world – we’ve all heard at the end of high school that we’re stepping out into the big bad world, but you really are so much sheltered if you’re with your parents. It’s at the hostel that you learn so much about yourself, about how people can behave, and know how the world works.
Living in the hostel makes you a much more tolerant person. I distinctly remember the time in my first year when I ran out of the common pantry in horror seeing the head of a beheaded chicken sitting smug in a bowl. I would be lying if I say that today I don’t give a heck if I see a whole fish in my table, but at least I don’t draw away in shock. You learn to accept the weird (to you!) things that others do – you smile at the girls brushing their teeth at the pantry sink rather than in the bathroom, and grit your teeth and bear it when there is so much hair in the shower from the previous occupant. You learn to sleep even if the room lights are on, and no longer say you can’t study if it’s noisy – because you simply can’t study then.
You start to take it easy. No sugar? No problem, you have your coffee black. You don’t mind eating Maggi again even if you’ve had it for lunch this afternoon and last night’s dinner. You tend to have a lot of disagreements with your friends, but you learn to brush them off and move on.
You become more independent. Unless you’re rich or influential enough for the hostel to let you have a personal valet, you still have to move your rear and get your clothes washed, iron them, and wash your plate unless you want to be carried away by a swarm of ants. While your friends are extremely helpful, you realize you can’t pester them for anything and everything, and you figure out a way to get things done yourself.
And finally, you make friends for life. You live with them day in and day out and you share so much together. There are long nights of talking, late night suppers, marathon movie sessions and often disastrous cooking attempts. You learn how others behave, and you realize not all of their behaviour will be something you can relate to, or like, but your priorities will take over, and you’ll grow to be thick friends.
You learn what your priorities in life are, and how to manage your moolah. Again, unless you’re a rich child whose parents indulge without question, or are not hesitant when it comes to borrowing money, you are probably not going to have an endless supply of cash. Hostel life forces you to think through what you need and prioritise your cash. It’s brutal when you indulge in those Bose headphones or that beautiful dress and are left scratching around for the reminder of the month, but experience teaches you to be more thoughtful in the future.
While you may wonder if hostel life is worth enduring for these experiences, it’s all this and much more. No doubt, there are often some incredibly difficult moments you’ll go through, but they will only serve to make you stronger.
A couple of years out of hostel life, I now fret about sharing bathrooms, complain that my computer table is too close to my bed, andgroan when I hear a noisy motorbike streak past my room window. But I continue to fondly look back on my hostel life – with all its restrictions and unkemptness and inflexibility – as a period of unlimited fun, and as one that had an indelible influence on who I am today.
Pics :
richardmasoner: http://www.flickr.com/photos/bike/
hawk684: http://www.flickr.com/photos/hawk684/
featured pic: pink sherbet photography: http://www.flickr.com/photos/pinksherbet/
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