I recently awoke at 3:00 am. Being a typical aging male baby boomer, I decided it would be a very good idea to make a trip to the bathroom. Climbing down from my bunk as quietly as possible, I made the 30 foot trek to the urinals, some of which were working. Upon arrival I was surprised to see one of my roommates washing his face. It would have been impossible for him to do this any louder. This seemed odd to me, but not as odd as hearing someone in the shower. I badly wanted to know who, but that would have been weird. With the three of us awake, two quietly awake, that left the remaining 87 roommates asleep.
On my way back to bed and now more awake, I was amazed at the sounds coming from the dimly lit room. There were monologues in English, Spanish and gibberish. The exact topics though were inaudible from the sound of the snoring.
With snoring, a solo can be problematic, but a choir is oddly not so bad. The snores came at me from all directions, upper and lower bunks, staccato and never ending, high and low pitch, crescendos and decrescendos, all blending nicely in a chorus of sound.
As I climbed back into my bunk, I first thought, “What the hell am I doing here?” which is typically what I think as I pull up the covers. But then I thought, “As I’m here, it’s nice to be sung to sleep.” There was something strangely peaceful about the snoring choir that sent me quickly back to sleep.