Pack ya’ bags!

Upon arriving to Africa, Mr. Kelvin Lewis (editor of Awoko Newspaper) generously checked me in to a YMCA hostel for my first four days in Sierra Leone. Little did I know that I would literally only be staying there for four days.

While I was under the impression that I had the room booked for the summer, apparently another person had booked the room for the next two weeks or so and I would have to check out. I was fairly surprised by this, because it was just yesterday that Mr. Lewis told me to pack my bags to move to a different hostel. I thought he was kidding at first, but as soon as I knew he was serious, for the first time, I began to sweat for reasons other than the heat and humidity.

Other than being a little frantic about having to pack everything up again, I was a bit sad. I was just starting to feel at home at the YMCA: The people were nice and welcoming; they had a nice internet cafe downstairs; and sure, the water in the showers didn’t work all the time, but I was adjusting just fine.

So once I had my bags poorly stuffed (probably because I was without my mother’s help, sadly enough), a couple of people from Awoko drove me to my new hostel: The National Stadium Hostel. As soon as I entered the parking lot of the building, however, any sad feelings left from leaving the YMCA were wiped away by the sheer size and beauty of my new “home.”

The National Stadium Hostel, inside and out, looked more like a luxurious hotel than a hostel. If I was living comfortably at the YMCA, then it can be said that I would be living large here. My room is about twice the size of that in the Y, and I get my own bathroom and shower (with working water). The bed on which I sleep is actually a little smaller, but I get two of them so I’m using the extra bed to place my clothes.

The rooms have air-conditioning (!) but my room’s is broken. And even though the hotel manager offered me another room to switch to, I kindly refused. Why? I figure that I better not get too comfortable here, because I’m only here for a couple of weeks before I return to the YMCA, which is a much closer commute to the paper.

Still, living large (at the moment) feels splendid.