Michael Wolraich's picture

    CouchSurfing 2.0

    You might think of couchsurfing as the exploitation of your friends' living room furniture. That is so old school. Welcome to couchsurfing 2.0, where you can travel the world via the living room furniture of complete strangers. The CouchSurfing Project is a social networking site where you can offer your home to travelers and take advantage of the couches, guest beds, and floor spaces of others when you travel. It was launched in 2004 and now has more than a million members in 232 countries. It's the most popular hospitality site on the internet, averaging more than 30 million daily page views (which is slightly higher than dagblog.com). It's mission: Participate in Creating a Better World, One Couch at a Time.

    For those who think think that social networks are only useful for chatting with friends and exchanging videos of unattractive people singing broadway tunes, the CouchSurfing Project offers a compelling example of utilizing a social network for providing something worthwhile. It's not just about making it possible for global travelers to stretch their budgets a bit further, although that is a definite benefit. It enables travelers to step outside their Let's Go / Rough Guide itineraries in order to meet people who actually live in the destinations and to visit the places that the locals prefer.

    For the hosts, it offers an opportunity to meet visitors from all over the world and to engage in a rewarding activity that has been all but lost to the modern world: hospitality. For many traditional societies, it is a blessing to offer hospitality to strangers. Islam, Judaism, and Hinduism, among other religions, emphasize it's importance. My grandfather would tell me that in Poland, any stranger who came to the synagogue seeking a place to sleep would be hosted by one of the families in town, many of whom, like my grandfather's family, lived in tiny one-room apartments. In the modern industrial societies, we lock our doors and almost never interact with complete strangers unless we're forced into close proximity, such as in airplane cabin or sporting event. At Passover services, I'm always struck by the disingenuous recitation of the ritual pledge to invite strangers into our homes for the meal; I have never been to a Passover meal to which any strangers had been invited.

    When I travel, I often seek out places where I know people. I prefer social activities to sightseeing and would rather stay in an idiosyncratic apartment in a residential neighborhood than in a bland hotel room in the tourist district. I took a vacation to England last week, where I spent two weekends with friends. I had several days on my own in between. I decided to spend one night in Oxford, where I had studied for a year as an undergraduate. After investigating the hotel situation in Oxford, I determined that the only options were expensive hotels and B&B's, where I would spend a lot of money to be on my own for a night, and grungy hostels, where I would sleep in a dorm accommodation with people much younger than me and probably a few bed bugs to boot.

    That's when I thought of couchsurfing. I could stay somewhere that was both cheaper and nicer than a hostel with a host who was genuinely interested in hanging out. I went to couchsurfing.org and created my profile. Oxford has hundreds of hosts who either "maybe" or "definitely" have a couch. A "couch," by the way, could be a spare bedroom or a space on the floor. Most users describe their accommodations in their online profiles. I contacted a few people who seemed friendly and compatible. Some said they weren't available, but everyone responded to my requests. One woman, Marina, invited me sleep on a spare bed in her living room.

    Marina, who grew up in St. Petersburg, had just moved to Oxford from Hamburg to work at a financial analysis firm specializing in shipping. A professional in her early 30's, she feels a little out of place at Oxford, which is essentially a student town, but she's been making efforts to meet new people. Getting involved with the CouchSurfing Project is one of those ways. When she came to Oxford for her interview, she couchsurfed herself. Now that she has a place of her own, she hosts.

    When I arrived at her flat, not far from the town center, I was somewhat sodden from an English version of a downpour (really just a heavy drizzle). Marina apologized for having no food in the house, but offered me tea and a wide selection of alcoholic beverages. You have to love the Russians. We opted for scotch. Then I borrowed an umbrella, and we went out for a bite. On the way, we passed my old college, Worcester College. Marina had never been there before. Visiting hours were over, but we walked through the door as if we belonged, and no one stopped us.

    Worcester's grounds are among the prettiest of all the colleges in Oxford. Along the main quad, where the grass has been cropped as short as a putting green, squats a row of wizened medieval cottages. An 18th century neo-classical structure stands proudly above them on the opposite side. If you cut through a tunnel between the cottages, you'll fine a quiet grassy arbor and a shaded pond. We strolled along the pond and the cricket fields, then ducked into the college's cellar bar and shared nostalgic pints under stone arches. I may have bored her with my tales of youthful exploits, but she was pleased to see the college.

    After drinks, I treated Marina to dinner at a nearby curry restaurant. Then another pint at the Eagle and Child, a 17th century pub where C. S. Lewis and J. R. R. Tolkien used to hang out together. We didn't hatch any epic fantasies, but Marina told me about how she had ended up at Oxford and the challenges of adjusting to life there after more than a decade in Hamburg. I told her about my life in New York and aspirations to become a writer. (Aside: I am not aware of any books on couchsurfing--a possibility.)

    Back at her flat, Marina let me use her internet and set me up with a serviceable cot in the living room. In the morning, I learned the rule of first couch surfing: pack a towel. I dripped dry after the shower.

    Marina and I said our good-byes. Both us appreciated the visit and regretted that I had not come on the weekend when there would have been more time to go out. I continued my trip up to a national park known as the Peak District. There were a couple of couchsurfing hosts in the area, but I decided to splurge for a B&B. Sometimes, it's nice to have your own room.

    Thanks to Marina's graciousness, my couchsurfing experience was a grand success. I will certainly do it again if the opportunity arises and plan to host guests when I have a permanent place. I recommend it to anyone and hope that your experience was as good as mine.

    Topics: 

    Latest Comments