I am lost in Melaka after getting out of the local bus. Wrong stop. An hour of dragging my backpack through town. I wipe the sweat of my face. Again. Jalan Tukan Besi, to the right? Left? Different people, different answers.
Finally I manage to find the blue door. A guy opens. Fourteen nosey eyes looking straight at me. All the attention makes me shy and more sweaty. A tall, friendly middle-aged man with an English accent shows me around. I get a room.
The social aspects of hostel life, I love and hate it. It depends, on my mood and on the always changing participants. I observe more than participate, am fascinated by the group dynamics of people on the move. There are the braggers, the jokers, the invisible, the voyeurs and the troubled. As a voyeur I usually like the troubled. Stay away from the braggers. And love random weirdos that don’t fit in to any of these categories.
Time for a beer. A German hostelmonkey takes me to the disabled beer seller down the street. He is not able to move his legs and tries to make some money by selling beer from home. We walk over to a Chinese house and order through the open window. The guy drags himself over to the “beerfridge”, the process takes about five minutes and looks very painful. Waiting for our beers feels somewhat embarrassing and confronting.