Three and half years ago I opened for business. My space, a three-room suite of rooms on my third floor, had been renovated to accomodate my daughter while she pursued her studies. By the time she left, she had a doctorate, husband and was eight months pregnant.
Did I mention that my daughter was 8 months pregnant when they left? That was my catalyst for opening my AirBNB. I wanted to spend meaningful time with this child which required that I reduce the number of hours I devoted to my IT company. The income from an AirBNB would make this possible.
At first, my prices were too low no doubt. The guests booked and booked and booked. And they were lovely. As I review their names, I remember something special about each one of them. Most of them were from other countries and they brought gifts. They left thank you notes. We enjoyed each other's company. There was guest no 4, Thomas from Germany who dreamt of opening his own brewery, so I took him to a fabulous craft beer store. Oh, and Ramiro who lives in Costa Rica but was originally from Venezuela. He missed his homeland and a special breakfast bread. A little research was needed but I was able to bake him some Golfeados. [Nasty things everyone else thought, but he ate the entire batch before the week was out.] There was the group of friends from China, all studying in the States, who gathered at my house over winter break and made a feast each night, insisting that I join them. Teaching them how to use my stove and to season their food was a challenge. They were not good listeners.
For the first six months, I had butterflies as I answered the door. I was anxious about their arrival details. I was unsure I could manage hosting people who didn't speak a word of English. As I went to answer the door, my brain would sing "It's Show Time!" in a very Bob Fosse voice.
I slowly found my groove. The butterflies calmed down. I had a "schtick" for introducing the house. I carefully touched on any details we had discussed via AirBNB messaging. But, I also reduced my emotional attachment. As I review the list of names after that first year, I draw a blank for many of them. They made no particular impression, either good or bad. There were just SO MANY PEOPLE every single month.
I haven't made anyone Venezuelan Golfeados recently, though if I make cookies, guests are offered one or two. (Oh, there was that lovely Australian couple last month who brought me apples from a local orchard and so of course I made a pie.) I continue to help guests navigate the Boston tourist market, suggesting transportation methods, current events, and eating spots; but I don't always know what would interest them anymore.
After 293 groups of people, I am confident that I provide exactly what has been offered. I raised my rates. I increased the minimum number of nights. I have learned how to be attentive without being close. I am still sincere. I am helpful and kind without commitment. I no longer sweat the slow communicators and just assume that it will all work out. Occasionally, I get a guest that I just don't like and know that they will be gone soon enough. The two bad guests are a distant memory, may they never return. Most often, I get guests that I like and those I celebrate!
I have also learned how to remove almost any kind of stain. Tanner and ProActive are still my weaknesses, but blood, chocolate, drool, they don't stand a chance against my arsenal of cleansers. The laundry machines and I are BFF's.
This balance is working for me. Now that I charge a market rate, I rarely receive gifts or thank you notes. Guests feel that they have paid a fair price for a service which changes their relationship to me as well. This is a trade off that I can live with.
I think we each have to find our own rhythm; one that suits our spaces, personalities, and stage of life. Being an AirBNB host does mean that life is never boring. There are always new people meandering through our lives; and sometimes they are special and get Golfeados or a pie.
How has your hosting style changed over the course of your AirBNB lifespan?