The Joy of Hosting

Hosting, I have learnt, is a privilege disguised as routine.

When one opens one’s home to travellers, one does not merely offer a bed and a meal. One offers a restful pause in their lives and, in return, receives stories and insights. One of the real perks of hosting is the chance to meet new and interesting people. Over the years, people from all walks of life have passed through this home. Corporate heads and film industry names. Celebrities and people who would never call themselves that. Authors, engineers, armed forces personnel, businessmen, industrialists, doctors, artists, journalists, musicians, fashion models, internet security experts, bankers, religious heads and their followers, politicians, government officials. The list refuses to end, and it stretches across countries and cultures.

Meeting new people is, in itself, a form of travel. Sitting quietly in a small village, I have learnt about distant cities and unfamiliar countries without ever leaving this small place of mine. I have listened to how people see the world, what they fear, what they hope for, and what habits shape their daily lives. Conversations begin lightly, often with weather or food, and then wander into unexpected territory. I have received thoughtful financial advice, picked up technical know how, and been given practical ideas to implement around the place here. Some guests have stepped into the kitchen and prepared various dishes, sometimes even family recipes guarded for generations. These exchanges feel intimate and generous.

As a nature lover, I am especially fond of seeing how people respond after arriving here. Some notice birds before they notice their phone has weak signals. Others are surprised that food tastes different and delicious when it has travelled only a few steps from our orchard to plate. Artists and photographers have taught me to admire familiar views anew. Nature lovers have spoken passionately about climate change and drawn me deeper into the subject that I already consider important. Journalists have made me curious about world politics and about how difficult it has become to understand what is true in an age flooded with information, artificial intelligence, and social media feeds customized individually based on each individuals beliefs and likes. Bankers have explained how fragile the global financial system is, and how it survives largely on collective belief, and that belief is such a big cushion thanks to the sheer numbers that make up the human population. Many guests have suggested books that never appear on popular must read lists. Some have even gifted me their own books or carried some specially for me. Others have borrowed from my shelves, and I still hope they will one day return for them. I have received sweets and chocolates, silk scarves, brass decor pieces, some thoughtful additions to my place, coffee and french-press, games for kids, and even potted plants too !

What hosting has quietly confirmed for me is that the world is full of good people. Circumstances may often make them guarded. City life encourages careful tones, dark glasses, and branded armour. Yet, here in this far away place, away from false pretences and artificial walls, those defences soften. After a few days, we sit together in the winter sun, or enjoy the summer breeze, talking as though we have known one another for years. Conversations flow easily. People share things freely, and in doing so they reveal a kindness that was always there.

In the end, hosting is not about occupancy, earnings, or efficiency. It is about human connection. Guests arrive seeking rest, but they leave behind fragments of their lives. The house grows quieter when they go, but it never feels empty. The memories and sometimes photographs that they share stay back.

Over the conversations and shared meals, I have realized the comforting truth that opening one’s door is one of the simplest ways to stay connected to a wide, breathing world. As the familiar saying goes, they come as guests and leave as friends.

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