Cold coffee, but the crumbs of hostel life are worth it

After working for a week at the hostel, I am in love with my new traveling and living situation.

The staff here is wonderful and eager to chat with me. I’m learning new Italian words every day. I’m at the point where I can talk to strangers on the street and in the stores without using English. Of course, they’re not the deepest conversations, and I make mistakes, but not so many that my counterparts attempt to speak English to prevent me from further butchering their beautiful language.

Every day I wake up at 6:30 a.m. ? yes, Mom, 6:30 ? to start breakfast for the hostel. It’s not a complicated affair. I make coffee and tea and put out croissants and cereal with the usual fixings.

After breakfast, I wash all the dishes and sweep and mop the floor ? yes, Mom, I keep my room clean. Once the common room, breakfast room, and my bedroom are clean, I am free to do as I please for the day.

Breakfast is often an educational experience and not just for me. The first time I prepared breakfast on my own, one guest complained that his fresh cup of coffee was cold before dumping it down the sink. Since I don’t drink coffee and had never made it before, I had worried about making a bad batch and suddenly felt my fear becoming a reality. However, I knew that the water I had used was piping hot. Confused, I watched as the same guest poured another cup in the hopes that it would be steaming, and it was. He wondered aloud about his mysteriously cold coffee as he reached for the cold milk to pour into his new cup. Hmm.

“Maybe it was the milk,” I said. “We have hot milk in the dispenser next to you.”

“Oh, yeah,” he responded, all previous hints of his annoyance now gone. “Maybe that was it.”

Mystery solved.

It is also interesting to watch how a majority of guests insist on crossing the dining room, passing a large trash can, to stuff their garbage into the small waste basket in the kitchenette. Amazing!

In the evening, I return to the hostel about 8 p.m. to socialize with the guests and make sure that no one gets too rowdy. If it’s a quiet night, I can go out with friends until about midnight when the common room needs to be closed. Just a couple of nights ago, Naples had a huge festival with bands from all around the world. Since everyone was heading out to see it, I was able to go as well.

It was a rainy evening though and each act only played one song a piece before switching out, something I found to be very frustrating. With only five or six hours of sleep between midnight and the start of my morning, I didn’t feel inclined to stay too long. However, I did recognize an Italian band I had seen before on Italian MTV, and that made the outing worth it.

The most difficult thing about living at the hostel is not the work, but that people only stay a few days before leaving for their next destination. I make new friends every day only to have to say goodbye to them the next and start over with a whole new batch of people. When guests stay for a longer time, I look forward to my social hours in the common room, but it is always harder to see them go.

Of course I have the staff here to enjoy.

The maid greats me every morning with a “ciao bella” and blows a kiss to say goodbye in the afternoon.

All of the guys who work at the front desk couldn’t be nicer or more full of character. Luigi started working here the same night I did ? though, with his duties, I think he had the harder first day ? and speaks English very well. He is young and baby-faced but a joker, too.

Enrico is lovable and greets me the Italian way with a kiss on each cheek. We were fast friends, especially since he gave me a spray that helps keeps the mosquitoes away.

Christian is more serious and seems amused by my Italian while Atanazio always offers me a free drink from our simple bar (soda, water, beer).

All of them work day and night shifts throughout the month to cover the 24-hour reception, so I am never alone or without help at the hostel. Each in his own way makes me feel welcome and at home here, including the manager, who today took me out on his scooter ? Italy is full of them ? to run an errand. It was a great ride!

The roads in Naples are driven by a combination of daredevils and madmen. You haven’t lived until you’ve sped in between traffic on the back of a scooter manned by a Napolitano!

I have an ever-growing flip book of faces in my mind, and because of this I am never bored with my surroundings, nor do I feel like I am missing out on the rest of Europe by staying in Naples. Europe is coming to me!

What will happen next week? I foresee a lot of tables with croissant crumbs on them. Also, for any of my readers who might be wondering, I foresee more time with Renato. And yes, my parents are OK with this.

Everything else is just part of the adventure. So, for now, ciao raggazzi!