For those of you who are as avid a film-fanatic as I am, you tend to watch pretty much everything and anything (since how can one be a connoisseur if one has only tasted the most exquisite?). That's why (years ago) I ended up watching the film Hostel and its sequel a few years later, the appropriately yet unoriginally titled Hostel II. I have to admit that I was fairly ambivalent to both flicks; I could sense the wasted potential that existed for a decent slasher/horror film which paid tribute to mid 80s films of the (almost defunct) genre. What Eli Roth happened to serve me, to my dismay, was a series of lukewarm scenes of torture porn. Roth had hoped to play upon the fears of young American backpackers indulging in wanton sexual congress and figuratively straying off the path in far off foreign lands; the reality is that Hostels are a far scarier place than Eli would have us believe.
It's easy for me to chastise in retrospect, but I really don't know why I allowed myself to be persuaded-while shopping around for accommodation in St. Petersburg, I ignored the insistent voice of reason within my head that bellowed "NOOO!" and booked a room in a relatively well-known hostel. I forewent any real debate over the matter and reasoned that the savings I made from doing so would fund extra activities in the city, but mainly (let's not beat around the bush here) to pay for a few extra beers. Hostels are undoubtedly useful for the budget traveller, and they also happen to be of benefit to those in dire need of the familiar in lands that are not their own. The dilemma that one is most likely to encounter is not imminent kidnapping and torture for the sadistic pleasures of extremely wealthy Western customers, it is that these places seem to attract a certain type.
When the chips are down, I'll admit that I like to think of myself as a liberal sort: I believe in (most) public services, people's ability to good by one another, the importance of education and having a social as well as an environmental conscience. In the same breath, I can also lay claim to what might be considered more conservative values: I don't believe big business is out to fuck us all; as flawed a regime as it may be, capitalism has raised millions (if not billions) out of poverty; and I believe that globalisation and the inevitable sharing of knowledge that comes as a result of it can provide untold benefits to the human race (perhaps at the expense of traditional concepts of "local culture", but that's best left to another post). When someone disagrees with my beliefs, rather than throw a tantrum I'm willing to try to see things from the other person's point of view: the world is not simply black and white, but instead a grey mess populated by almost 7 billion voices. Plus, even with a degree and post-graduate education, a smattering of foreign languages and as diverse a variety of reading materials as I can stomach, I actually consider myself unqualified to speak on any subject in any real depth. I feel like I don't really know anything.
The hostel type would not align themselves to my values.
Whilst a gross over-generalisation, hostel-types tend to be a sub-set of the Middle-Class Hippy strain. Either on a gap year or, having found no job adequate to accommodate them back home after university, they resort to an aimless journey through foreign lands, stopping off long enough to undertake some menial work here and there in order to fund their vices and their continuing journey. You'd be wrong to think that I'm bitter about this sort of person: on the contrary; it is, after all, somewhat how I came to decide upon the career path I now follow.
That said, because the hostel-type has never had a real job or had to deal with the responsibilities that adults encounter daily (that is, deal regularly and diplomatically with people with a vast array of alternate world views), they are often pompous, opinionated and, to borrow a favourite South Park metaphor, clearly adept at appreciating their own farts (and by proxy, the farts of others within the same sub-species). This is, I'm sure you'd agree, a real shame since I feel that Hostel-type's heart is fundamentally in the right place. If more people had similar views to them, perhaps the world would be a much fairer place. Then again, perhaps productivity would fall the world over as people devoted their lives to growing twatty beards, ensuring they had enough beer and weed to survive the day and most importantly, learning how to play the Jeff Buckley arrangement of "Hallelujah" on acoustic guitar in a vain attempt to get laid.
Fuck it. Next time I'm booking a hotel.
_________________________________________________________________
"Ain't nobody likes the Middle East, buddy. There's nothing here to like."
-D.
It's easy for me to chastise in retrospect, but I really don't know why I allowed myself to be persuaded-while shopping around for accommodation in St. Petersburg, I ignored the insistent voice of reason within my head that bellowed "NOOO!" and booked a room in a relatively well-known hostel. I forewent any real debate over the matter and reasoned that the savings I made from doing so would fund extra activities in the city, but mainly (let's not beat around the bush here) to pay for a few extra beers. Hostels are undoubtedly useful for the budget traveller, and they also happen to be of benefit to those in dire need of the familiar in lands that are not their own. The dilemma that one is most likely to encounter is not imminent kidnapping and torture for the sadistic pleasures of extremely wealthy Western customers, it is that these places seem to attract a certain type.
When the chips are down, I'll admit that I like to think of myself as a liberal sort: I believe in (most) public services, people's ability to good by one another, the importance of education and having a social as well as an environmental conscience. In the same breath, I can also lay claim to what might be considered more conservative values: I don't believe big business is out to fuck us all; as flawed a regime as it may be, capitalism has raised millions (if not billions) out of poverty; and I believe that globalisation and the inevitable sharing of knowledge that comes as a result of it can provide untold benefits to the human race (perhaps at the expense of traditional concepts of "local culture", but that's best left to another post). When someone disagrees with my beliefs, rather than throw a tantrum I'm willing to try to see things from the other person's point of view: the world is not simply black and white, but instead a grey mess populated by almost 7 billion voices. Plus, even with a degree and post-graduate education, a smattering of foreign languages and as diverse a variety of reading materials as I can stomach, I actually consider myself unqualified to speak on any subject in any real depth. I feel like I don't really know anything.
The hostel type would not align themselves to my values.
Whilst a gross over-generalisation, hostel-types tend to be a sub-set of the Middle-Class Hippy strain. Either on a gap year or, having found no job adequate to accommodate them back home after university, they resort to an aimless journey through foreign lands, stopping off long enough to undertake some menial work here and there in order to fund their vices and their continuing journey. You'd be wrong to think that I'm bitter about this sort of person: on the contrary; it is, after all, somewhat how I came to decide upon the career path I now follow.
That said, because the hostel-type has never had a real job or had to deal with the responsibilities that adults encounter daily (that is, deal regularly and diplomatically with people with a vast array of alternate world views), they are often pompous, opinionated and, to borrow a favourite South Park metaphor, clearly adept at appreciating their own farts (and by proxy, the farts of others within the same sub-species). This is, I'm sure you'd agree, a real shame since I feel that Hostel-type's heart is fundamentally in the right place. If more people had similar views to them, perhaps the world would be a much fairer place. Then again, perhaps productivity would fall the world over as people devoted their lives to growing twatty beards, ensuring they had enough beer and weed to survive the day and most importantly, learning how to play the Jeff Buckley arrangement of "Hallelujah" on acoustic guitar in a vain attempt to get laid.
 |
| "Oh, for the love of Christ could you just learn to play another fucking song?!" |
Fuck it. Next time I'm booking a hotel.
_________________________________________________________________
"Ain't nobody likes the Middle East, buddy. There's nothing here to like."
-D.
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