Does Anyone Want To Get Paid For Sleeping?

To clarify: not for sleeping with someone. But a job where you’re paid while asleep.

A real job. Not an Internet get-rich-doing-nothing scam. No hoax. Those jobs exist.

Introduction

Encountering the unusual, or even more excitingly, the wild or bizarre, is one of the most enthralling aspects of travel, where customs are substantially different than my Western ones.

Unavoidably, we bring our personal biases and judgments along life’s meandering roadways.

Even when occasionally shocked or bemused, it’s a realization of how my tiny world — where I was raised — represents but a wisp of the realities in faraway lands.

From Egypt to Asia

Flashing back to a brief exchange over breakfast with a Greek chap seated nearby on our Giza hotel rooftop cafe, we gazed spellbound at the too-excruciatingly-powerful-to-behold-awe-inspiring-indescribably-magnificence of the three pyramids in perfect view of the flickering morning light.

Having fantasized about seeing the Great Pyramids of Egypt since childhood, here I was. The majestic sandstone marvels were less than a kilometer away. Tomorrow, I would walk there.

On this my first day in Cairo, for a couple of hours, I gazed, fixated and entranced, reveling in their grandeur and conjuring what I recalled about their history and unanswered mysteries.

Knowing that Europeans are typically better-traveled than Americans — if for no reason other than their fortuitous geographic proximity to dozens of countries — I asked if the fellow had traveled extensively throughout Europe.

“Nah, not really,” he replied. “I much prefer places like this with centuries of history and fascinating cultures.”

Ah, I thought: Of course. He’s Greek, after all! I once spent three weeks in Greece, cherishing and adoring every moment.

I wholeheartedly agreed with him.

Asian Travel

Asia has always intrigued me more than Europe…if for no reason other than its uncomfortable uniqueness and unpredictable disorganization.

Hence, in terms of travel miles and time, I’ve spent more — albeit minuscule compared to that of hard-core, lifetime wanderers — in India, Thailand, Indonesia, and Nepal than in Western or European countries.

These were my first steps on African soil.

First Sleeping on the Job Encounter

My first introduction to the occupation of payment-for-sleep was in Tamil Nadu, a state of South India, in Tiruvannamalai. A mouthful, yes? My initial pronunciation was so abysmal that the Indians had no idea what I was talking about. Happily, the locals abbreviated it to Tiru.

It was 2012, my first soul-searching journey to India. After months of planning, researching, and downsizing, the stars had aligned.

I had landed in South India, blissfully lapping up everything so wildly foreign with few hiccups and yet having encountered no genuine “India Moments.”

Okay, a couple....

One was coming upon a gent urinating on the side of the street. It’s commonplace throughout India: no embarrassment, no attempt at modesty, normal male behavior. And, no, I never discovered where women comparably relieved their bladders at whim.

National Geographic-worthy scenes in my face. Every day. Everywhere. Magical encounters with exceedingly kind Indians day in and day out.

The plan — more a flexible, sketchy outline than an actual itinerary — was to stay at as many ashrams as possible.

This Tiru ashram (“ashram” I discovered runs a vast gamut of options) comprised the upstairs of a two-story building with several twin-sized beds plus a kitchen and bathroom.

It was off-season. Translation: “Only a moron travels to South India in the peak of summer!” Everyone who could manage it had long departed for cooler hill country. Hence, no roommates occupied the remaining four beds.

Next door lived a pleasant German fellow, his wife, and two small daughters. They ran the ashram as devotees of Yogi Ramsuratkumar. Having read a fascinating tome about his life and sainthood, it’s what drew me to the city.

When first meeting the guard that all hotels, ashrams, and homestays typically hired and inquiring about his name, I was told to call him “Watchman.”

It was common not to bother with people’s names and refer to them by their job titles. For me, who goes out of her way to ask an individual’s given name as a way to connect and interact, it felt impersonal. But, when in Rome and all.

An azure, massive, gated, metal-grated fence surrounded the technicolored building. To enter, one reached inside, lifted the handle, and slid the bolt aside.

Finagling this maneuver, which took numerous attempts to master, invariably engendered loud clanging and squeaking. To my knowledge, WD-40 was nonexistent in India.

When I first came upon Watchman returning from my daily outing, he was zonked out on a plastic chaise lounge, sound asleep and snoring impressively. I carefully tried, albeit unsuccessfully, not to disturb him.

Despite thinking, Isn’t it his job to guard the place? Shouldn’t being awake be an essential criterion? “Sleeping on the job,” apparently, had a different connotation here.

After jerking awake, acknowledging my disturbance with a grunt, he promptly resumed his nap. Sleeping must be a far more taxing job than I imagined because, during my two-week stay, I rarely saw Watchman awake any time of the day or night.

At night, he disappeared to a tiny cubbyhole enclave in the rear of the building where the slamming, clanging gate wouldn’t likely awaken him, so much for guarding the property from unsavory intruders.

Watchman probably had a home and family elsewhere where he occasionally visited. During my time there, though, he was a constant presence.

Common Custom

This would be the first of countless similar experiences of encountering sleeping staff throughout India. It was the same in the country's South, North, and central parts.

Initially, arriving at a hotel for check-in at night was somewhat unnerving, with no visible alert staff. At any hotel or inn — even in the capital city of Delhi — the night crew were sacked out in various configurations, sprawled on lobby benches, chairs, or floors.

A desk clerk would awaken, check you in, and if lucky, another chap would arouse to schlep luggage to your room. That wasn’t always a guarantee, however. Then, after fulfilling their duties, they returned to slumber.

The only deviation was at five-star or large-chain hotels; the night shift was awake and functioning in those properties.

Nepal and Bali

It was the same in Katmandu, Nepal. All night staff slept during their shifts.

On Bali, in smaller hotels, homestays, and apartment buildings, there is typically 24/7 staffing. In one building where I lived, the night employee theoretically was required to remain awake and sit in a chair. If I ever needed late-night assistance, though, invariably, he was snoozing.

At my current Bali abode, the overnight chap sleeps on a comfortable sofa in the entrance lobby area. The entrance to the property remains locked at night, and CCTV cameras scan the drive from the street to the entry. But anyone can enter the grounds via an unlocked garage.

The night fellow comes on duty at 11 p.m. and stirs if he hears me depositing trash in the garbage later. However, for the most part, he, too, sleeps through his eight-hour shift.

It’s his job.

Likely attributable to employment scarcity and a massive populace, it is relatively accepted that Indians, and perhaps similarly for Indonesians, keep their same jobs forever.

I might, too, if I could sleep through it.