I can’t believe I’m writing this, but it has now been a month that I have been living in a hostel. I know I know, I certainly don’t seem like a girl who would rough it in a dorm style room in a hostel for a month , but somehow I did, and for US$10 a day you couldn’t beat it.  Definitey the main thing that kept me there was the people I met and that almost all were native Spanish speakers.  In the past few weeks I met some amazing people from Peru, Colombia, Cuba, Mexico, Brazil, France, Manchester, and of course Argentina…and better yet, now have a ton of people to visit all around the world.  The  hostel definitely has a great energy about it, from the people who work there to the music that is always blaring.  I have become fully versed in all the most popular Latin music.

I can’t express enough how much I really loved this particular hostel experience – and I cannot even identify what it was that kept me here for so long. It always felt like one big family to me, everyone cooking, laughing, drinking, going out and chatting togetherat all hours.  It was great to immediately have a network of native Spanish speaking friends, all so friendly and eager to share things about their distinct cultures with me.  I especially was appreciative, as I didn’t vibe much with most of the students from my Spanish school despite our language familiarities.

After a last minute trip to the Iguazu falls, I decided on the very day I returned I had had enough of the shared room experience.  As interesting as it was, it just became really tiring and I was quickly outgrowing the staying-up-super-late scene.  As in any hostel around the world, people were constantly coming and going in our room at all different hours.  There were some that moved in at the crack of dawn, turning on all the lights, or on the one night I decided to go to bed early waking me up 6 times as each person came home from whatever party they were at.  For much of the time I was there, it was only me and two Colombian girls, which was fine.  But when it was maxed out to five or six of us, it got interesting especially given the room was smaller than my tiny New York City studio apartment.

One roll of toilet paper did not even last us through the morning and the bathroom, which flooded everytime someone showered, became a wreck not even wearing flip flops could help. I had enough mornings of getting ready in complete darkness (I was the only one who needed to wake up at 7:30am every day for class). My clothes and suitcase were constantly strewn across the room…everything I owned was in disarray and there were several mornings that I spent almost 20 minutes looking in my bag  for something as simple as clean socks.   I also didn’t get the memo that our room was co-ed.  One night I came home and thought that someone had played a joke on me and put a wild beast in the bunk bed above mine. Nope, just your averagelly…well actually not average  at all but, 200 pound guy with a BIG snoring problem.  I’m not exagerating when I tell you that my bed actually shook  through the entire night, it was that bad.

Regardless of some funny experiences, I really enjoyed my time in this hostel and the room was such a small part of it as I hardly ever spent much time there.  The day I got back from Iguazu I was on a real mission to be in my own apartment.  Despite having just been on a bus for 18 hours, I put off showering for just a few more hours in the hopes that I would find a new home before too long.  I made two appointments to see apartments – the first was in a really nice neighborhood, but smelled so bad of old people the moment they opened the door and everything in the place seemed in that style – old, yellowing, and dim.  I had gone with my Argentine friend and he told me that he could immediately tell I didn’t like it, Iguess I was that obvious. I had one more shot.

The second place was not in the area I wanted but I had seen pictures on the website and could only hope the apartment looked that way in actuality.  It couldn’t have been more of a polar opposite than the other one I had seen – modern, white, open space, with a big bright windows and even a little terrace.  I didn’t have to wait a second longer, I knew I wanted it and before Miguel, mysubleaser could explain anymore of  its features I was already telling him I wanted it.   Not more than 3 hours later I was in my brand new abode taking the shower of a lifetime.  The apartment is right in the center of the city off the street that is known as the widest avenue in the world, Avenida 9 de Julio. The kitchen is quite small and only has a hot plate but I have managed to cook quite a bit, and definitely one of the best things is that included in the price is a housekeeper that comes every Friday.

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