After much ado, I decided to go to my friend’s birthday party in Chicago. She is adorable. I’ve been meeting her on Zoom for my group therapy sessions for the last two and a half years. We usually back each other up in the group. So far, we’ve survived the group therapy’s dilemmas and drama.
Her husband was throwing a birthday party for her. It seemed like a big deal. We discussed the party in our group therapy sessions at great length. I wanted to be there for her. Besides, it was a great opportunity to meet my other group mates in Chicago. They all live in Chicago, and the main reason we don’t meet in person is because I live in Seattle. I wanted to thank them and show my appreciation.
My daughter wanted to join me for this trip. So, we set sail to leave in mid-June.
The plan was to attend the party. I also wanted to go to Hyde Park, the University of Chicago’s neighborhood, to eat and visit the Medici Cafe.
When I lived at Dorchester Ave. in Chicago, Medici was my favorite place to go. “The name is Italian,” I heard from a customer one day. I got curious and looked up the name. I found a connection between the cafe’s name and the royal family in Florence.
Unlike Chicago which could keep up with its fame for crime decades after decades, Airbnb cannot promise a great service even after a few years of its establishment in 2008.
My affair with the cafe drove me to learn all about Cosimo de’ Medici. I binge-watched the Netflix series on Medici when it first came out in 2016. I was so infatuated with the family, the movie, the cafe’s name, and what Cosimo de’ Medici did with the magnificent architecture of Santa Maria del Fiore, the Duomo. I traveled to Florence just to see the Duomo’s fresco. That’s for another essay.
I planned to take my daughter to the Middle East Museum on campus to show her the stolen horse from Persepolis. I’ll write about this later as well. But for now, let us see what happened between me and the Airbnb rental place in Chicago.
I forgot
To keep my travels drama-free away from drama, and to start on a good foot, and to buy myself a good omen, I bargain with God and deposit money into a piggy bank before every trip.
I usually deposit between $20 to $50 into my piggy bank. I collect the money and send it to Iran to be spent on a few poor families I know. Maman and my dad manage the fund. There are three girls in Mashhad whose university education I support. A portion of this money goes to them.
I forgot to deposit money for this trip!
The Airbnb in Chicago
Our flight to Chicago went uneventful. At the O’Hare airport, I found that I had booked my rental car starting the next day. It was so costly and time-consuming to come back to the airport the next day if I didn’t want to pay the extra charge. I decided to take the punch. I paid more money for one extra day than for the duration of my booking time within the next four days. Ouch!
The host refused to refund me for the remaining of the next two nights. Their tone wasn’t friendly at all. And they were upset that I couldn’t sleep with the earplugs.
Nevertheless, we got the car and set sail toward our Airbnb, without realizing that our place was in a dangerous neighborhood.
When I book any Airbnb, I always read the reviews. The review for this particular listing was good. The hosts received high scores for their kindness and understanding; and the place was nice and neat. There was no mention of the neighborhood.
I later learned that hosts can delete negative comments. I should have known, but I trusted Airbnb too much!
Chicago’s residential neighborhood, like many cities in the United States, is a mixture of familiarities and extremes. You can easily walk into a neighborhood with expensive family houses and the newest cars. Then, just a few blocks away, you could hear gunshots and drunk people on the streets. My daughter and I stayed in one of the 2569 Airbnb residential Airbnb apartments around Pulaski and Armitage Ave.
As we drove around the neighborhood looking for our place, we saw ‘New York’ style townhouses. The buildings were divided into fences and gates. The gates opened to staircases of eight or ten steps. Each building typically had one floor below the main entrance and one or two floors on the top.
After a few laps around the neighborhood, we found our building. We parked our car on the street and took our carry-ons inside. The instructions for the place weren’t very clear. First, we first knocked on the door on the main floor. A very nice gay couple opened the door for us and directed us to the basement. We soon realized that our host was renting out all three units of the building to Airbnb residents.
“Wow, we have two rooms, Maman. I call this room,” my daughter said and immediately parked her carry-on in the room closer to the entrance door. “Look, the ceiling is too low,” I said. We could easily reach the ceiling without much effort.
The place was nice, clean, and neat. I, had yet to understand why the place was cheaper than all the other Chicago Airbnb rates. I thought I hit the jackpot. Little did I know my life might be in danger.
The first night
The building was very old. I could hear every step of the people walking around upstairs. Sometimes they decided to walk around at 1 or 2 a.m.; sometimes it was 4 a.m.
I am a light sleeper. I didn’t blink until 4 a.m. I finally grabbed my blanket and pillow and went to my daughter’s room. She had a king-size IKEA bed. I think it was then that the gay couple decided to rest because I was close my eyes and sleep until around 7 a.m.
The second night
I texted my host about the problem with the walking around upstairs. They suggested using disposable earplugs. I tried them for the second night, but I could never sleep with anything foreign in my body. I took them out.
When we got back home around 10 ish, there were numerous gunshots in the area.
The nonstop ‘jeer jeer’ sound of the floor was overwhelming. To make matters more delicious, I heard the sound of a gunshot only a few houses away. This was around noon. I wasn’t particularly scared. But I was worried for my 12-year-old! What mother wouldn’t? Learning from my childhood experiences during the Iran revolution in 1979, I turned off all the lights and went to bed. But, I couldn’t sleep.
The third night
I wanted to leave the second night, but it was my friend’s birthday that day. I thought that if I spent too much and energy finding a new rental, I would miss the chance to see my friends or on time for the party. So, I decided to suck it up.
The party went well. We danced, ate, drank and had a very good time. I was so happy to see my friend in a good and uplifting mood. I was so grateful to see my group-mates.
When we got back home around 10 ish, there were numerous gunshots in the area. I called the Chicago Public Safety office and explained the situation.
“I’ll dispatch officers to the neighborhood to check,” Officer Mason said. “Would you like me to send an officer to check on you and your daughter Ma’am,” he asked. “No, that’s OK. We are in an Airbnb apartment. I don’t want to alarm people here,” I said.
The fourth day
I was almost asleep around 7 a.m. when I heard the sounds of talking and laughter. The people on the second floor decided to use the shared laundry room, located right outside our apartment, and have a good time. “Could you please keep the noise down?” I heard my daughter telling them in a soft hushed tone.
We left the place before 11 a.m.
The host refused to refund me for the remaining of the next two nights. Their tone wasn’t friendly at all. And they were upset that I couldn’t sleep with the earplugs.
I brought the matter to Airbnb. And, we wrote a review about the property. I never saw my comments on the listing. The stay was painful.
Suggestions and recommendations
After this trip, I learned to
- Make sure to locate the neighborhood.
- Try to stay close to downtown, or in more touristy neighborhoods for shorter stays. Police presence is more pronounced in those areas.
- Educate myself about the city as much as I can.
- Remember that the host has a monopoly over monitoring reviews.
- Not get fooled by the low price. If it is too good to be true, there’s probably a good reason why!
- Never forget to honor the promises you make to yourself.
- Be extra careful when you travel with minors. Sometimes hotels are safer for kids.
- Follow my instinct, if something bothers me.
I wrote to Airbnb customer services and filed a complaint on their app platform. They wrote back. However, I wasn’t able to talk with a real agent or figure out whether my complaint had any real effect on the company.
On day four, we moved to a Hilton Hotel at Macormick Place. Before moving to the new place, my daughter wanted to learn more about crime and gunshots in Chicago. She insisted we take Chicago’s Crime Tour.
Chicago crime tour
We learned that Chicago became notorious for its crime only three years after its establishment in 1837.
We visited John Dillinger’s assassination spot. He was a handsome, lady’s man bank robber who had been quoted as saying ‘I rob banks, not people.’
We learned a great deal about the notorious Al Capone who ruled an empire of crime in the Windy City, which included gambling, prostitution, bootlegging, bribery, narcotics trafficking, robbery, etc.
At the very last stop, we visited Harry Carrey’s restaurant, where owners recently discovered a secret underground vault in the building that has a history of mob ties.
After the tour, I realized that my fears were legitimate, even though they were far from affecting me and my daughter.
At the same time, I have become more and more cautious about my bookings with Airbnb. The app-based platform is not as great as it was a while back. Unlike Chicago which could keep up with its fame for crime decades after decades, Airbnb cannot promise a great service even after a few years of its establishment in 2008.
My friend and I decided that for my next visit to Chicago, I stay with her.
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