Smartly dressed professionals lounged about,
arguing politics over martinis and fiddling with their electronics. As I admired the elegance of productivity stewing around me, an uncharacteristically chipper bellhop skipped over and removed my leadened
backpack off my shoulders (then containing the weight of a fully functional
laptop (::insert keening wail here::)). Delighted at my new lightness, I began to
bounce around the lobby in circles singing “I’m like a bird,” followed by some
much needed arm flapping. Mid-flap, a woman behind the counter offered me a
glass of water. Free water! I snatched the paper cup and downed the sweet
liquid before she could change her mind.
She laughed and offered me another glass. I scanned her face, suspicious, but her smile was blank as a Polish bagel. I helped myself
to seconds. Thank you, US-Polish
Fulbright Commission…Well done. Well
done indeed.
Oh, how deep my naivete! What a bottomless, Nietzschean abyss! I
soon learned there are two Ibis hotels in Warsaw: Ibis regular and Ibis Budget.
Guess which one I stood in as a bellhop struggled with my backpack. Now guess
which one the commission assigned to accommodate us.
Yep.
 |
| Free water! |
The only kudos I can give Ibis Budget is its capacity for versatility.
While Ibis regular can only serve as a comfortable and well-serviced
accommodation for travelers, Ibis Diet can act as both hotel and psychiatric
institution, which is an admittedly clever business model given the volatility
of the current economy and the political history of Poland. After all, if the
Soviets do ever return (knock on concrete), Ibis budget will still be running.
That’s more than the real Ibis could say.
So I grabbed a taxi to the other Ibis and checked in with the
nurse on duty, who begrudgingly walked me down the ward to my room.
 |
| Ibis Budget: don't be fooled by its cheery and colorful exterior... |
The bed had a single, translucently thin sheet folded with
hospital corners. The turbid odor of antiseptic spray choked and burned. The lights were broken. When I gestured to the nurse about it, she began maniacally banging the wall, which surprisingly wasn't a mental breakdown, but a moderately effective way to provoke the overhead fluorescent to flicker to life. Unfortunately, however, the spasming light was also accompanied by the most ingratiating buzzing
noise. I think it must have been one of those frequencies only heard
by those 25 and under they use to prevent loitering in Japan, because while I instantly cupped my hapless ears, she just
stared at me, perplexed. But at least now I could see enough find my way to the toilet, so I
ignored her and stepped inside. Once that was accomplished, I immediately banged the wall to shut it off.
All the same, I appreciated anything horizontal after a long day of gooseback riding. I cracked open the starched white wafer over the bed and shimmied myself
underneath. I didn’t even take off my socks.
My first night in Warsaw. The start of my Fulbright. And, despite everything, I was
feeling good.
Cue music!
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