Part of being here means that we will be feeling some loneliness. To counter that reality I have been trying to find some new friends. There is a family who takes care of manse number two. The father cares for the grounds, and the mother cares for the house. They have three children, all older children. The youngest (a boy) is thirteen; the two daughters are eighteen and twenty-one. The first day here, I was feeling funny that we hadn’t really spent any time talking or anything. Therefore, the next day after church, I noticed that the two ladies were outside talking and one was cooking n’sima. A few dusty steps and I was there, greeting them. We spoke about the differences and similarities between our two countries and this or that for about an hour and then the n’sima was done, so they invited me to enjoy it with them. Stepping into their house, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I feared that it was just a small room for five people, but upon entering my worries dissolved as I saw a center courtyard and various doors leading into rooms on either side. We went into what seemed like a family room, with a television, a chair, and a loveseat with a coffee table in sandwiched between. It was close quarters, but comfortable. I felt honored that they had invited me in. We continued talking and spoke of the world cup, American music, and Chichewa. We laughed together, both at how I was having trouble learning new words and just as communication mishaps occurred. They were patient with me, which was a blessing. It felt good to just sit and chat.