There’s No Mirror in My Room. That Should Have Been the First Clue…

I chose this hostel off the internet back in the states for three reasons. It was rated pretty highly in comments (although a couple reviews mentioned that it wasn’t too clean), it was cheaper than most (it was about 35 USD/night; most of the others were 60+/night), and it was close to the subway. Some of the other places sounded nicer (and were more expensive), but most had comments that they were far from the subway, and I figured after a hard day of walking, I did not want to pay for a taxi or slog a long way home. So I chose the Flowering House Hostel.

The clerk was really kind and showed us our room. It had two beds with very hard mattresses, a concrete floor, a small nightstand, and a chair. There was also an a/c unit. Not much else. We did not manage to get a private room with a bathroom (all were taken), so our bathroom was across the courtyard. At first glance, it was all rather…appalling is not quite the right word, more like...unsettling. The concrete floor was the worst because you couldn’t really walk on it barefoot—it was just too dusty. Second worst thing was that there was no outlet near a mirror in the bathroom, and no mirror in my room. It made blow-drying my hair very difficult.

Later, I started to think about these things. As the days went by, it suddenly began to make some sense. The main person in charge was Daniel, a young Chinese guy, probably in his twenties, who spoke and understood English quite well. When Daniel was not around, there seemed to be other young Chinese guys in charge. So I asked Daniel if he was the owner, and he said that he was, although he had his finger in some other business ventures, so his friends worked with him.


Instantly, I could see how this hostel was run. By twenty-something young men. No mirrors or decorating. No plug in the bathroom. Basic cleanliness, but nothing more. Every room was sort of functional dorm style.


But I was lazy in one way. It was just too hard to pack up and move to something different. So I opted to stay. I decided that I must have a pair of flip flops for the concrete floor. We managed to find a cheap pair, and instantly, my life was twice as good! I dried my hair without a mirror, and though it wasn't the best, it was acceptable. Everyday, it seemed, we either adapted to or ignored the worst. It was only going to be for a few days anyway.


And meanwhile, there were good things about it too. It had free wi-fi. I think trying to find an internet café during the evening would have been a little much for Kinsey to do on a regular basis. It had a lot of charm. The hostel itself was located in a hutong, and it was very interesting to see a regular, even somewhat poor, neighborhood where people were biking around, hanging out their laundry, and coming out in the evening to sell goods or chat. One night we came back to the hostel after the gate was barred and I started banging on the gate. A small cluster of old Chinese men, who were playing some kind of Chinese game in the dim street light told us to use the bell.

And lastly, Daniel and his friends were really just the kindest people you can imagine. They helped set up tours, wrote down addresses in Chinese, answered questions, and showed us how to do our laundry. It wasn't the cleanest or most comfortable, but somehow they managed to take some of the stress out of every day.