I lived in Africa for one year on a mission trip in my 20s. Although some people spoke English, most of the people in the village that I was living did not speak any.
It was difficult leaving everything that I knew and was accustomed to and moving to a place with different food, language, and culture, but I was lucky to become great friends with a couple about 20 years older than me.
We had a peculiar bond: they were decades older than me and we could not speak the same language. For whatever reason, they cared for me like I was their own son, getting me out of trouble more times than I even care to remember!
Although we would eventually be able to have basic conversations as I learned their language, it was hard for me to explain why I treasured their friendship as much as I did. Basically, I just knew that they were good people.
