The hostel accent

Siam Journey Guesthouse is the name of the hostel that I have been staying in here in Bangkok for the past few days. The hostel itself is pretty neat-- both in reference to level of cleanliness as well as cool factor. It's got colorful furniture, chalkboard walls, and a cozy living area where the hostel guests can all hang out, watch movies, surf the web, and enjoy good conversation.

And when I say good conversation, I mean good conversation.

What makes a good conversation? If you say that passion, intensity, conviction, open-mindedness, wisdom, humor, engagement, and interest in topic are important contributors to creating an interesting, lively discussion, I think you'd be correct, but I also think that you'd be missing the most awesome one of all: The Accent.

YOU GUYS.

There have been countless moments already where I have walked into the common area to find it loudly buzzing with different conversations taking place around the room. Quiet whispers in this corner, loud laughter in that one, an energetic debate taking place on that orange couch. The symphony of accents present on that soundtrack is one of the coolest things I have ever heard. I am calling it the hostel accent. 

The hostel accent is derived from the intonations, vocabulary, and cultural awareness of the different languages from around the globe. It is also a strange, yet impressive evidence of the limitless abilities of the gut, throat, tongue, lips, saliva, abdomen, and trachea of the human race. (Seriously, if one needs more proof that God created man to be superior to all other creatures, you need only to listen to a Polish man speak his accented English using only noises produced from somewhere so deep within his body that American scientists don't even have a name for it yet (In Polish, I believe that part of the body is called the grunthrtergh)). I so wish that I could sit here with a tape recorder so that I can capture and share this magical track with everyone who has never had the pleasure of experiencing this show live.

In fact, I would make an entire CD. Yes. I would name the band "Hostel" (unless there is already a band named Hostel, which there probably is), and I would be the producer. 

Here are the lyrics of an actual conversation that I heard taking place in the common room yesterday (or, Track 4: "Tattoo stranger")

Alex: Giovanni, what is that a tattoo of on your arm there?
Giovanni: Oh, well, it's kind of a joke. When I first moved... my mom told me that she didn't care what I did but she kept telling me that I could never get a tattoo. So, of course, I got one. But I thought that if I was going to fucking tattoo my own body, then I wanted it to be for her somehow.

Leon: I saw the best tattoo today! I saw this huge guy near the train station that had a huge tattoo of his face on his bicep.

Jenny: His bicep?
Tomas: Yes! I saw it, too. It looked just like him!
Jef: That's weird as fuck, man.
Matt: I want to meet this guy.

But what it really sounded like was--

German: Jze-o-vanni, vut eez dat a tuhtoo of ohn yure arm dere?
Texan: Oh, wull, it's kinda a joke. When ah first moved... my mama told me that she didn't care what ah did but she kept tellin me that ah coul never get a tattoo. So, uh-coarse, ah got one. But ah thought that if ah was going to fuckin tattoo my own body, then ah want'dit to be fer her somehow.

Brazilian: I saw da bez tatto today! I saw dis huge guy near da train station dat had a huge tattoo of his face on his bicep.

Australian: Hiss bye-sep?

Polish: Yees! I saw eet, too. Eet lewked jzust lyke heem!

English: Wha, thaut's werd as fok, mon.
Welsh: I'um quite keen ta meet this goy.

Hahahaha.

Luff,
bcl.