I am currently sitting in a stall of an internet cafe surrounded by teenage boys playing video games. It is our last night in Urumbamba and our last night at our respective homestays which I think we all had a little trepidation about. Its a very personal and-I would imagine-daunting thing to allow complete strangers into your home, to feed them, care for them, and introduce them to your family. But I was greeted with nothing but love and acceptance. As I struggled through sentences they listened patiently and as we arrived home in the afternoons they would ask us about our day. Out of this experience the thing I found most endearing and touching were the little things my family would do to make sure I was comfortable like how my host mom would peel the tomatoes before cutting and serving them (knowing that we have to be careful with unpeeled fruits and veggies), how she would wake up early to get fresh bread for breakfast, how every night she would watch Madre (a telenovela) with me every night, how my host father talked about his writing and shared with me a pamphlet of his poems, how they included us in the family soccer game and birthday celebration. All of these reasons and more are why, although I am excited to start a new chapter in my travels, I am also filled with sadness to leave behind such a kind and close-knit community.