*El Amigo*

To continue with the Sucre adventure, one must know of our lodging. El Amigo is a hostel a few streets away from the center of Sucre, Bolivia. It’s cheap and doesn’t ask many questions, like so many backpackers’ hangouts. It has stories for every floor, bathroom, and bed sheet. In short, living in it for four days was an adventure, exactly what I wanted.
The hostel at first sight didn’t impress, at least not in the best of ways. Past the heavy wooden door there is a metal gate. The woman at the front desk let us past the gate. While she and Sarah worked out room details, I examined the front room. It offered a TV, several couches and a coffee table, and a public computer for two Bolivianos an hour. A list of computer rules balanced on top of the monitor. My favorite read, ‘’Warning. Watching porn may cause blind.’’ Sarah asked me a question in English as a gringo walked in the room. He directed Sarah’s question to the woman in English, then I translated it into Spanish. The man looked slightly shocked. The front desk lady ignored him and took us to our room. On the way we passed a large kitchen and a small open courtyard. She led us up some stairs. The railings were painted bright rainbow colors. She unlocked our holly-graffitied door with an old fashioned key, the kind that is little more than a stick with a metal hook on the end. We dropped our bags gratefully.
To have a room is a blessing. We looked at it that way in order to avoid depression. It was a large room at least, with a high ceiling and skylight I soon loved. The bed was badly bowed in the middle, but the blankets looked warm and the sheets were clean. We settled in. I decided that I liked the room, though I hated the lack of a mirror and any sort of decoration. Perhaps, I hoped, there will be a mirror in the shared bathroom. I went to check it out.
It didn’t have a mirror. It didn’t have electricity, and the sink leaked. Oh dear…
Thank heaven there was another bathroom! Not only did this one have a mirror and electricity, it also had hot water! What a relief to wash off that bus ride. I wasn’t as fond of its lack of toilet paper, but had become accustomed to carrying a roll when traveling.
After we were comfortable and clean, we both went down to the front room. Sarah used the computer, and I watched CNN for news of the swine flu. I also talked to the guy at front desk. He’s only a few years older than me and studies in the university. Sarah and I used those facts to our advantage when we wanted to go out that that night. Hostel rule states that its doors are locked after eleven pm, but our new friend assured us he’d be studying until three in the morning, so if we came home late it’d be fine.
Before we went out, I learned the truth about El Amigo. It’s not the rooms or relatively cheap internet, and it’s not the free breakfast of bread, jam, and coffee. It’s the people. They’re all wandering, and most are pretty open as to why. There was the thirty-year-old recently laid-off dentist, who one day woke up and hopped a plane to South America. He was friendly, and offered me a beer, which I declined. Then there were the Israelis who spoke Hebrew, English, and Spanish, and begged us to go to a rave with them. I spoke briefly to an Australian with dreds. I never actually talked with one couple, but I saw the woman give her boyfriend a haircut in the open courtyard. We greeted everyone in the hostel in Spanish, until one party revealed their English skills, and we could switch. For two days I exchanged pleasantries with a Swede before finding out he spoke English. Then I saw the Israelis pick up their backpacks and leave; then Sarah and I packed up our backpacks and left.
El Amigo did turn out to be a friend, despite my first impressions. It has character. I wouldn’t suggest it to just anyone. Every minute there was an adventure, from the lack of mirrors, to the shower drain that didn’t deserve the name. To those who crave adventure, and don’t mind the loss of a few niceties, El Amigo is the best of friends.