Photo by Austin Schmid
When I opened up my social media feeds this past weekend, I was blown away.
Blown away by just how many people were out on the streets on Saturday protesting hate, inequality, and injustice. Blown away by the photos of the crowds, the witty signs they made, the powerful words they spoke and posted. Blown away by the sheer size of it, not just in DC or across the US, but around the world. I saw some amazing awareness, compassion, understanding, and support taking place, and it warmed my heart.
When it comes to hostels, I’ve got a bit of experience. I’ve stayed in dozens of them, and for more than 700 nights altogether. On the internet, that basically makes me an expert.
Of course, hostels vary wildly — big and little, charming and soulless, clean and, uh, not so much — but staying long-term in any kind of shared accommodation will certainly change you and your life. Just look at me: if it weren’t for hostels, I probably wouldn’t have met Simon, or be living in the Netherlands right now.
Photo by Aaron Burden
When you’ve been living abroad for as long as I have, the idea of “going home” starts to become a bit fuzzy.
Though I use the word frequently — referring to either my current mailing address here in the Netherlands, or my hometown of Minneapolis, Minnesota — if someone were to straight up ask me what I consider home, I wouldn’t be able to answer. At least, not without an explanation.
“This friend of mine, we have really different views on a lot of things — but we just don’t talk about politics!” Sound familiar?
Or what about this one? “This is not the place to discuss politics. This is a travel blog/make-up channel/fashion account. I don’t follow you/read your posts to hear about your ~causes~!”