sofasurfers

Just while I thought I was having the time of my life, I went and got
a boring complex. It first hit when out to dinner with my Chengdu host
(a 25-year-old Chinese law student with her own fashion boutique) and
her parents. My host had originally thought there’d be two other
couchsurfers to babysit me on my first night, but they mysteriously
left town early, so she invited me along to the family dinner. “Fun!”
I’d thought – though I knew I’d have to endure it pretty much mute,
due to the language barrier. And fun it was to watch them make toast
after toast with two hands cupping their rice wine, canned drink, duck
soup or whatever else was to hand. But obviously, my score on the
boring scale was already soaring, owing to being The Dumb One. Then we
join the gang in a bar, an international crowd of teachers and
students, many of whom are couchsurfers. The conversation soon turned
to couchsurfing. Apparently, her Irish boyfriend’s profile picture
features him with a violent, torrid nose bleed. (Why was your nose
bleeding, I ask. “Because my nose was bleeding,” he responds
sarcastically. Hmmph) His tactic here, he says, is to deter boring
people: only those who get the joke need apply. The night continues
with tale after tale about who are the most boring couchsurfers: “I
have a blanket ban on Polish couples,” says one girl from Brighton.
“Invariably boring – although I’ve only had two sets.” “And all
couchsurfers do the same old route – they’ve all come from Xi’an and
they’re all going to Kunming [guess where I'm going next – Kunming],”
says he of the bloody nose. Another says, “First I was looking for
friends on couchsurfing because I didn’t know anyone here, but now I
have an interesting social life, so the couchsurfers have to be really
interesting to make the grade.” I gulp, become self-conscious, and
then – I am sure – become quite boring. Later that night, back at my
host’s apartment, she asks: “Have you done crystal meth?” Oh no, I say
– it sounds really boring, at which point she produces a contraption
for ‘doing’ crystal meth. Oh my, is that the time? I say, stifling a
‘yawn’… And last night, without warning, my host spent the night
“with her parents” (read: boyfriend), so I was home alone after
returning from the opera. And today, she’s “teaching” all day.
I had presumed that being a successful couchsurfer requires getting on
with everyone. Which seems to require the shelving of any
controversial opinions and antisocial habits until such a time that
seems safe and open enough to introduce them (couchsurfing – I’ve said
it before: it’s classic first-date territory). Perhaps in the
meantime, that leaves a rather bland, superficial shell of a
character. And after one too many first dates, you become a bit over
the whole facade required in trying to please everyone, leaving a
naked, raw core, which can be a bit hard to take. Rather like suddenly
finding yourself confronted with a host who is totally starkers, in
fact (one guy I met from the Chengdu group is actually naked in his
profile picture; another says she was going to go naked on her profile
picture but she thought that would attract the wrong type). For some,
I’m sure it’s refreshingly thrilling. For boring types, it’s just all
too much excitement.