Tying up an Open End

So, about the night I spent at Jason's International Hostel in Anchorage.


More people drinking and smoking than sleeping. Fortunately, I can sleep under pretty much any conditions. I drifted off about 11 with it all going on outside, and smoke wafting thru, the open window of the room I inhabited.

The room door flew open and slammed against the wall. I bolted awake. In the middle of the night, my heart painfully jumpstarted. Barges in a bearded man, dressed in black, demanding to know which way is east. With intense determination he attempts to make physical contact with each wall of the room, tripping over and stepping on the luggage thereon, demanding, "Tell me which way is east? I must know which way is east. I am not fortunate like you, I cannot sleep until I pray, and I must eat..." I keep quiet, hoping that without stimulus he will grow bored and go away. After tense long minutes, he did, leaving the room door open. It was then impossible not to hear him accosting others with the same demand.

At some point, a young, loud, native voice belts out "That Rabbi's on acid, man, and if he gets in my face again I'm going to take him down." Some relatively quieter time passes, then, apparently after the presumed Rabbi had determined which way was east and completed his prayer, the same native voice emanates from the kitchen: "Rabbi, this is not your F-ck'n food, you can't just take this shit..."


More time passes. I don't know whether the rabbi ate or not, but the door bangs open again and my bunk shakes as rabbi-man flopps into the one under mine, the raw stench of sweat and accumulated body odor fills the room.

Though I somehow sleep for the few remaining hours to morning, I cannot recommend Jason's International Hostel to any who wish to sleep.