The sun disappeared behind the trees and my girlfriend and I began to clean up for the evening, our preparation deliberately relaxed. We popped the Veuve Clicquot purchased in transit at the Johannesburg airport duty free shop, the bottle sweating from the clash of its mini-fridge-chilled contents with its intensely humid surroundings. Ready for dinner first, I sat at the wobbly square table on our dimly-lit front porch slowly sipping my champagne, staring into the dark night above the ocean, listening to the soft house music emanating from my well-traveled mini Bose speaker. We eventually stumbled off our private bungalow’s wooden patio onto the sand being cooled by the evening Indian Ocean breeze. That afternoon, the couple who owned the small hotel on the northern coast of Mozambique just 30 minutes’ drive from Pemba town had casually informed us on the beach that dinner would be served later than usual in celebration of the holiday. It was New Year’s Eve. My vision of the ideal New Year’s Eve had matured. This year, instead of bouncing from celebration to celebration, I simply wanted a peaceful evening of good food and good wine with my new girlfriend. Ashley and I met in July. We were in Washington, D.C. for an 11-day orientation to our program that funded teaching posts in a nursing school in Malawi for her and a medical school in Uganda for me. After one evening Whole Foods grocery shopping trip turned into a first picnic date on the National Mall, we shared a couple more meals before boarding a plane a few days later to Addis Ababa. In Addis we said our goodbyes. She headed to Lilongwe and I to Kampala. The “hello’s” texted on WhatsApp turned into daily messaging and then hour-long phone calls, all via inconsistent power and Wi-Fi. Our bond grew stronger as our discussions deepened. Teaching in Sub-Saharan Africa can be challenging, and we shared those difficulties living amongst extreme poverty, working in healthcare facilities with limited resources, witnessing preventable deaths, and being on a different continent than family and close friends. One visit to Lake Malawi and another trip together to Sipi Falls in Uganda created a new strain: we now missed each other. Despite our admission that this was not exactly convenient, we committed to grow our connection and travel together during our holiday breaks. After a quick trip home for Christmas, we were on a plane back from Atlanta to Johannesburg and then on to Pemba. We were on holiday, celebrating life and the coming of the new year. Together. Finally. Cheerful from the bottle of bubbly, we wandered barefoot on the dark sandy path to the thatch-covered restaurant a little early for dinner. As we approached, we started hearing the music. “Is that someone playing music?” “I don’t know, it sounds live.” We followed the singing voices past the empty restaurant and along the bushes lining the hotel perimeter to a nearby clearing lit by a campfire. The six women on stage, dressed in uniforms of local material, sang sweetly and danced in synch, performing for the crowd of ten staying at the hotel. We stood in the back, mesmerized by the beautiful melodies under the night sky illuminated by a million stars. A feeling of gratitude bubbled up, spilling over into watery eyes. The performance ended and the crowd made their way to the restaurant for dinner while the musicians loaded up in the bed of their truck to head back into town. The two of us lingered behind, holding each other under the stars while the totality of the evening’s magic sunk in. Following the feast, we ambled down to the bonfire on the beach to await the midnight champagne toast and fireworks across the bay. This New Year’s Eve felt different. It was quiet without the large parties, without the dance floors covered in revelers. This New Year’s Eve felt special. It was an evening with home-cooked food, soulful music, and a date who was beautiful because of her smile and because of her grace and strength in managing recent duties and defeats. This New Year’s Eve felt just right, because this was the eve of something more.