Day 18 - My Last Day at the Hostel

Money Tree down the street from the hostel
April 26th, 2015

You know how you feel waking up the next morning after working out for the first time in ages? This morning was similar to that, but not in the good ‘ah yeah, I worked hard’ way. More of a “I must have slept on concrete and had my pressure points attacked by gnomes” sort of way. As I get up, I notice that Kiwi Haydon is frantically packing his things in order to leave by the 11am deadline (it was 11:05am). He was one of the people they said had stayed too long and was not allowed to renew his stay. I got his contact details, along with Aussie Deans, while eating breakfast.

I say goodbye to Japanese Tomo, who is leaving town (we didn’t get very close due to the language barrier) and told Yuzu that I would be back later. She, too, is moving out today, but only to another hostel. We’ll see each other again soon, I figure.

Parking lot downtown
At the job, it’s much easier than my nerves told me it would be. I learn the ins and outs while one of the hostel workers, British Ashley, trains me (as he also works at The Grid). The owner, Rod, is around the entire time and I have a hard time with his accent. Despite that, things seem to be going well. After 4.25 hours, I mention that I wasn’t quite sure how long he wanted me to stay for, as he had only told me to show up at noon. “Oh, you’ve been here way too long.” he tells me “do you think you could do it alone this weekend if you needed to?” which I thought I could, and tell him so. I am instructed to come back Tuesday or Wednesday to get my hours.

Ouroboros (Massive!)
Awesome, now I can finally go EAT. I thought it would only have been 2ish hours, and ate in accordance with that belief. I’m smelling pizza, burgers, and fries while helping people with their racer games. Oh right; the place is like a pizza cafe with race car simulations. A strange mix, but it seems to be popular enough with people. I go back to the hostel and cook up whatever I can with the stuff I have left, looking to whittle down my stores before I have to take off on Monday.

After eating, I take a nap, noticing that 4 of the beds have been vacated in total. While half asleep, I hear some huffing and puffing, and talk about keeping fit from accents I can’t quit make out in that state. Upon waking, I meet English Liam, who tells me it was his friend, Aussie Brendan, was doing the pushups and sit-ups. Liam heads out of the room, trading places with Brendan.

Brendan and I talk about Australia, how he believes Perth, and Australia in general, have become a bit more rough and tumble. It seems people aren’t too happy with Mr. Abbott, though I’m wondering if I am simply having a sample bias. From what people have been saying, even people who voted for Abbott are displeased with him. In favour of the rich at the expense of the middle-lower classes, the gap has widened. Doesn’t sound at all familiar to anything I’ve seen anywhere else cough.

British Rhys, British Ruby, and Dutch Laurens
The situation, as described by Brendan, is that Perth has become increasingly gentrified, create a fairly rich group, and an ever increasing poor group who are unemployed due to foreigners taking their jobs. I would be considered one of these foreigners that they place the blame on for being them being unemployed, and might be a reason why there’s increased aggression toward people like me. This is his theory. The situation with local businesses is that they know that foreigners don’t know their rights, which are the same as the Aussies, and will abuse this situation to pay the workers less. Because foreigners will work for less, the locals - who know their rights - get passed over for jobs and we end up with the situation we’re currently in. Wondahful.

A random plane parked because of Anzac Day
American (hostel staff) Jesse, Brendan, and I discuss jobs and Aus politics until I decide to move inside to catch up on the writing, which I am now barely keeping up with the events of 2 days prior. I sit down and talk with Aus Peter for a while, also speaking with French Max about some science/philosophical ideas. I get offered to go out 3 times by different groups, and only end up saying yes to the third when they say they’re going for an hour. It's a blatant lie. I choose to believe it.

They offer an invitation to Peter, who surprisingly agrees, and I extend an invitation to Aus Brendan, as he had said he had wanted to go out. It ends up being us three, English Reese, English Ruby, and Dutch Laurens (aka Thor (Seriously though, he looks a lot like Thor)). Their plan is to go to Mustang. 

She loves it
We arrive, and Peter immediately disappears, never to be seen again (even to the point of wriiting this a day later). The rest proceed to get fairly intoxicated, and run into a few of their UK friends from elsewhere. Laurens seems to be making friends everywhere, and catches the eye of many a girl. The night winds down, leaving me with Brendan. We dance a bit, wait for the music to die down, then I approach Laurens, Reese, and Ruby. Brendan somehow disappeared in the time it took me to cross the nearly-barren dance floor.

The four of us wander to find another club, but it is Sunday (of a long weekend) and most of the bars seem to be closed at 2:30. Reese declares “if we’re not going to go to another bar, I at least want a kebab.” Kebabs here are not shish kebabs. Not entirely. They’re like that, but then taken off the stick and put into a pita/wrap... I think. Apparently this is the same in England as well.

It’s an entertaining time wandering the streets back to the hostel, talking about random, drunken things, and staying up until ~3:50am. Well, well… Moving day appears as though it may be a little rough. Quite glad I didn’t drink.

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