On the wall I saw a picture of some western film- star, or singer, which had been torn from a magazine. The picture was yellow and crinkled with age. "You live a bit differently from the other people in the village, don't you?" "Ha! Ha! How's that?" "Aren't you worried about the isolation?" "What do you mean?" "Well, your house is quite far away from the others" Tupho looked surprised. He smiled. He looked like he wanted to say: This is the way I live. Take it or leave it." "Bring us Lokho," Tupho told his wife. She stood up straight away, and went into a little room, and then came out again with two mugs. "Or would you prefer Lokho othe, friend?" Tupho asked me. "What's that?" "I mean, a glass." "Oh, no. This is fine." Tupho took out a bottle of Singha beer. "For friendship's sake. We drank with pleasure. "Do you often drink beer with your friends?" "Ha! My friends sent me these. I was often asked to sing down at the station, and some of them send up beer as a thank-you present. Sometimes the Americans visit, and