A Vegetarian Duck Sauce (you know, for dancing)

I'd heard it before.

I'd danced to it at clubs, at Burning Man, at Burner parties, with glitter flung at me, hands tossed in the air, eyes closed, being twirled around. Oh, I always loved it.

But it was different at Heike.

At Hostel Heike, it was probably Ari that put it on. He had the best playlists. He had on Air and Metric and Regina Spektor and The Knife and everything amazing. And this came on.

This is the hostel you dream of. Okay, the kitchen was chaos, it was noisy, it was hard to get a quiet Skype conversation. Your mother only heard the noise, the dancing, asked you, "What really goes on at these hostels?"

Mom, you have no idea. 

Making amazing food and sharing it. Dancing with Rasta dogs. Singing Feliz Navidad. Sharing wine. Abuelo rum, anyone? And music. And hugs. Total strangers hugging you when you cry. Kinda like Burning Man, but in a foreign country, with no costumes, and grubby outfits. Or bikinis.

Heike was the hostel where, yeah, it's a beach town, but chances are, even on a sunny day, you could find some rad people just chilling, studying Spanish, reading, talking, sharing food, fun. I loved it.

And this song came on...

And I went nuts....

And it was normal.

It was Heike.

And this is my love letter to Heike, and to this song.