With our white, and I mean white, skin we were told we’d be pretty popular in South Asia. Not because we’re super cool, but because we’re foreigners. We heard stories about nationals flocking to take pictures with foreigners and talk to them in the streets and markets, and we experienced a little bit of that. Nathan actually had a guy intentionally pose in front of him in the supermarket while his wife snapped the picture. But in our city, our skin isn’t attracting those “instant friends” we had kind of hoped for. You see, our city is really big in the IT industry and so foreigners come and go all the time, no big deal. I guess if I’m honest though I kind of wanted to be a “big deal”. It’s hard to just strike up conversations with people on the street if you can’t speak their language, and if you’re no one special and the person already has friends, what do they need you for? So we had been asking the Father for friends, or people of peace, or someone who could show us the ropes here in our city. Now South Asia as a whole is a country of night owls, so if you’re like me and your best time of day is 10 AM, that can be hard. But after having a friend over for dinner one night, Nathan and I managed to be in the lobby of our apartment at 9:45 PM, and that’s when it happened. We met our neighbors. We were beginning to think our complex was a ghost town because we literally hadn’t seen anyone. But at night, it was a whole different ballgame. The family lives right above us, they’re native to Bangalore, AND they speak English. We’ve known this family for 2 weeks and we’ve been invited into their home for lunch, exchanged desserts, and been very surprised at the night calls they’ve made to our apartment while we were vegging out on the couch. We asked the Father for relationships that could go deep quickly and that has definitely been answered, although on a level I wasn’t quite prepared for. When we first met this family I was asked how much we paid for our apartment. On their first visit to our house, our kitchen was scrutinized and we were asked why our dishes were left out on the drying rack instead of put away( this was a sincere question, not an insult, and it has actually spurred me on to conquer my disgust of doing dishes). But I know we’d really hit it off when they popped in one night to chat and then asked if we could keep their chicken, mutton, and masala in our refrigerator until they got one of their own. “Do you want me to bring it to you tomorrow morning?” I asked. To which the daughter replied, “No, I’ll come get it when we need it.” You may think this odd, but we’re just grateful for friends who feel comfortable enough to ask us to store their cold cuts. And it’s just another evidence that our Father hears us when we call out to Him, and He is faithful. I’m sure there will be more stories to come, and we love this family already.