Hostels Accept Locals to Survive the Pandemic
These days, the lobby of Jazz on the Park, a youth hostel on 106th Street and Columbus Avenue, has the distinct feel of a museum exhibit: come see what life looked like in the before-times, prior to the pandemic that made people afraid to leave their houses, let alone travel internationally.
“Sign up at the front desk to join our crazy parties,” a poster behind glass reads. It has a photo of young travelers of all nationalities posing in a subway car, arms around each other, smiles unobscured by masks. It feels like a relic of a bygone era.
It’s as quiet as a museum, too. There are social distancing stickers spaced six feet apart on the floor, but there are rarely enough people in the lobby at once for them to matter. “I remember one day in particular, we only made $300. It was like two check-ins,” said Estefano Reynoso, who has worked at the front desk since November.
Known for their close quarters and low prices, hostels have fostered an international youth travel culture for over a century. “Normally a lot of people love staying in hostels because you get to meet people from all over the country, all over the world, and then you have common experiences while you’re there,” said Lisa Jordan, the vice president of marketing at Hostelling International, which operates the HI-New York City hostel on 103rd St. and Amsterdam Avenue. “It’s a big change for the hostel experience,” she said. Although the pandemic has curbed this culture indefinitely, local hostels have found ways to adapt.
Both Jazz on the Park and the HI-NYC have cut their already cheap prices. Right now, a bed at Jazz on the Park can be had for as little as $26 a night, a discount of at least 35%. In addition, the hostels have changed their policies about who is welcome to stay. Before the pandemic, Jazz on the Park didn’t allow guests from within the tri-state area, and HI-NYC didn’t allow city residents. Now, according to Reynoso, Jazz on the Park’s clientele is 75% local. “It’s a lot better for business,” he said, “because they’re regulars.”
Not all of the new guests have the proper expectations, however. “New Yorkers only want private rooms,” said Reynoso. “They thought they’d get a queen-size bed, bathroom to themself. Foreigners know.”
For some local residents, however, the change in policy has been a boon. Fahim Huq, 32, was living in Queens until the pandemic, when his roommate left and his apartment became unaffordable. He’s been staying at Jazz on the Park for several weeks while searching for a new job. Without the opportunity to stay at the hostel, he would have had to leave the city. “It’s a huge help,” he said.
“It’s wonderful to come here,” said Andrea Gager, 53, who normally lives in Manhattan Valley with relatives. But when they’re out of town, she’s been staying at Jazz on the Park. “It’s safe, it’s clean, they’re very accommodating,” she said. She reported no tensions between locals like herself and traditional hostel guests. “I’ve met some wonderful people here,” she said. “It’s basically like a community.”
Once the pandemic passes, hostel policies are likely to return to what they had been. “This is a temporary change that we’re going to roll back once we’re able to,” said Jordan, of Hostelling International. But she is pleased with her hostel’s temporary pivot. “I think we’ve been able to offer people an affordable place when they were in need, and we were happy to be able to do so.”
