bnb'ing vs swapping
Airbnb’ers are people lovers, Swappers are not. I have
swapped my NYC apartment twice, once when my partner and I went to Paris, the
second time LA. I have also been assigned to an Airbnb when a friend brought me
down to Austin to help remodel his place and he needed to put me up for a few
nights. There are two main differences between the experiences it seems to me.
Bnb’ing is a monetary transaction, the other is some kind of a barter or share.
Second, bnb’ing often comes with people, at least if you are doing it legally,
in a big city, with rent regulations, the other does not.
There is a picture in a news article in the NY Times about
Airbnb hosts in Japan. There was a young American sitting on a comfortable
chair in the nice but chaotic living room of his hosts with their little girl
of about four or five, chatting. Please God, may it never happen to me. I could
certainly see myself wandering around their apartment, relaxing on the couch
before venturing out for another round of Tokyo site-seeing, glad of my
comfortable non-hotel experience, but to have to converse? No thank you.
I don’t want to meet people, I just want to use their stuff.
And for that privilege I will give them my stuff to use for the same amount of
time. My partner tends to care more about the other people than I do. She takes
care of the little gifts we leave them for when they arrive at our place and she
leaves flowers and a thank you note at their place when we leave. I’m glad she
does, because it doesn’t occur to me, and invariably, there is a little gift
for us when we arrive at the swappers apartment and a thank you note in the
reverse. Without her I would get bad reviews. She also cares about the swappers
experience while in our place, hoping for good weather for them and worrying
about whether our directions vis-à-vis the subway were detailed enough. I don’t.
When in Austin I had two different Airbnb’s. One was the
second bedroom of someone I never saw although I know she came home, slept and
then was out again early for work. That lasted two days. I wondered how she
felt having a strange man in the next room. The other was a spare bedroom—with
its own bathroom this time—in a large rambling house. In order to enter or exit
I had to pass the living area of the couple who owned the house. He was not
there very often, she was there a lot and had a curiosity about me that I tried
politely to satisfy. Needless to say I would have preferred an empty nest.
Its not that I don’t like people. There are a handful that I
get along with quite well. But meeting new people? Please, only when
circumstances require, otherwise I am quite happy with inanimate objects and
recorded music. The two swap experiences were great. After an initial day of
settling-in and orientation, I quickly fell into a kind of faux ownership,
coming and going as if I lived there for years. And the view you have of how it
would be to live in an average persons apartment in the middle of Paris or
Beverly Hills is unmatched by staying in a hotel. Plus, if I’m paying for something,
I’m going to expect certain things. If I’m swapping, I take it as it is.
To my fellow isolationists; try swapping, you’ll like it. To
my social, chatter-bug friends; there are plenty of friendly (and really
friendly) people out there willing to share their bathroom with you. Enjoy.