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Friend
Issue one
FOF
Fforeword
Hello Friends. Welcome to a preview of the first ever issue of Friends of Friends magazine, a love letter to the lonely, a handkerchief for the teary eyed, a shoulder for the broken hearted and the duct tape for your broken dreams. Friends of friends magazine is a proactive gesture and open invitation to focus on the positivity of the human existence by bringing together diverse voices that share their ontological reflections with one another. Our intention is to revive that which once was beautiful and encourage life changing introspection through our focus and exploration of subjects that deserve sincere contemplation. Suspended somewhere between the tangible and metaphysical, we can forget the spiritual and physical alleviation that comes from connecting with one another on a deeper level, taking a break from a world that often demands us to interact superficially one another for the sake of saving time and saving face and considering the perspectives of people outside your typical crowd. This magazine is a journal and forum for exchanging thoughts on subjects related to humanitarianism, existentialism, and art. It’s an exploration of thought and feelings that encourage us to stray away from negativity, expose our doubts and dispel our fears and positively search for the meaning and purpose that comes with inhabiting an ephemeral vessel. As such, the theme of our first issue wasn’t a statement or concept, but rather a collection of works centered around the question of “What does it mean to be alive?” We hope you enjoy. With Love, Merylin Lira
Ddedicate yourself to the good you deserve and desire for yourself. gGive yourself peace of mind. yYou deserve to be happy. Yyou deserve delight. - hannah arendt
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issue one
Friends Who made Rodrigo Tavares
Eden Tadesse
Vincent Luong
A candidate of PHD architecture at the University of Coimbra, Rodrigo tirelessly pursues an investigation into the theory of Urban architecture in the noble hope of educating and bringing to light some of the key issues concerning the modern practice of Urban design that contribute to problems pertaining to social and economic factors of inequality among city dwellers worldwide.
Born and raised Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, Eden's life mission has always been to empower others to activate their potential, manifest their greatness and make a positive impact. For the past 4-5 years, she's been making this impact through her various passions of blogging, volunteering, film-making, journalism, consulting, teaching, activism and entrepreneurship.
Anthropologist, poet, musician, and an all around good guy, Vincent delivers wit and sarcasm as precisely as a protractor measures angles. His poetry reveals a sincere vulnerability into the nature of his being through the penetrative and deep thoughts painted by the rich pigments and imagery of his words. Abundant in knowledge, sensitive in nature, and thoughtful of feelings.
Instagram: @rodrigtavares email: rodrigotavares.ua@gmail.com
Instagram: @indothopian_queen & twitter: @indothopian.
Instagram: luong.vincent email: vluong15@gmail.com
this a Reality
Rotem Ben Tzur
Rafaela Rodrigues
Morris Mchawia
Writer, master lunch box crafter and DIY guru, Rotem became founder of the blog "The Jungle" in 2016 where she began to share useful tips, advice, reviews, and accounts of her adventures living in sunny Tel Aviv. Her stories and writing are embellished with an anecdotal humor and genuine sincerity that are easily relatable and reflective of her creative and warmhearted character.
Rafaela began drawing as a little girl and never stopped. Her work is inspired by daily life the things she sees everywhere. Since she began illustrating, she's created a world full of neck-less, pointy eared characters who are very funny and love to dance and talk. All these characters live in an alternative world were everyone she knows has their own version.
In his early childhood days, established Kenyan writer, Morris Mchawia Mwavizo learned a life lesson by watching ants that were determined to get out of a trap. With that same sense of ambition and resolution he found that he, too, could find a way out of poverty into a life he chose for himself using his writing as a means to expound upon topics of considerable profundity.
Website: tlvjungle.com Twitter: @TheJungle_TLV
Instagram: @rafaelateixeirarodrigues Website: : www.behance.net/rafaelart
Website: www.naandika.wordpress.com
Montana Svoboda
Michael Gardner
Mia Karp An outdoor enthusiast who believes no day should be wasted is why Mia loves to travel and explore as much of the world as possible. Her passion for photography stems from her desire to inspire others to go out and see the world beyond the comfort of their homes. On the go is where she likes to be as chronicled by the adventures on her blog The Karpe Diem.
Growing up in an incredibly rural area with a population mostly consisting of rivers and trees, is from where the twenty year old poet fostered a deep appreciation for nature and loneliness. Embedded with rich subtle layers of memories, wishes, and longing along with the tacitly descriptive qualities, Montana's writings are an attempt to adequately capture life as it was growing up.
A childhood in Utah, adolescence in CA, with an 8 year hiatus in Dallas, before settling in Seattle, Mike has seen and done it all. His pen carries a beatnik scrawl, drawing inspiration from firsthand counterculture experiences that mark the personal revelations of his stories & architect a realism of dialogue & occurrences found in his writing that both identify and distance himself from the reader.
Instagram: @miakarp Website: vluong15@gmail.com
Website: www.fromplentifultoyou.wordpress.com
Website: www.sometimesstalecoffee.blogspot.com
Living The MY Dream Eden Tadesse
“We cannot rid ourselves of our hearts desires, no matter how impossible or unattainable they
When everybody around you tells you your ambitions are ‘unrealistic’ or ‘dull’, it puts you down. When the thing you are most passionate about gets disparaged and mocked by everyone around you, it puts you down. When you courageously express your deepest desires and get ignored, it puts you down. Being let down, rejected, teased, belittled… these are all blessings in disguise, because when you’re down, you need something powerful to lift you back up. You need emotional and spiritual fortitude. You need to believe in your dreams. I have been fascinated with India since I was 13 years old, and it was no ordinary fascination: I was virtually obsessed. At the time since I had never actually been there, most people would disregard my Indian-dream as ‘naiveté’ or ‘a temporary phase’. Everyone who knew me, even the strangers on the bus who I occasionally conversed with, knew about my infatuation to the fullest degree. I was just completely spellbound, to the extent where I would lose sleep thinking about what my life would be like had I been born and raised there. I even designed my own website called ‘Journey To India’ to document all these imaginary narratives. Every Time someone asked me “But why India?” I would become speechless trying to pick one of the million reasons I wanted to go there. In my world, India was a beacon of hope – a prodigious source of inspiration. I always believed that ending up in India was my ultimate destiny. I was ridiculed about my passion by all my family and friends. I was disheartened many times by this, but I never showed it. Being an optimist, I smiled and pulled myself back up.
“There are moments in life....moments when you know you’ve crossed a bridge. You’re old life is over” – Bradley Cooper, Limitless. Going to India was my bridge.
Essay
Many people in this world are inconsistent with their goals and ambitions. I was never like that. No matter how far away or unlikely my ‘India dream’ seemed, I never gave up. For 7 years, my obsession wavered not one bit. I kept telling myself ‘Patience is a virtue’, and indeed it was. After I graduated high school, it became crunch time for my university decisions. Due to my good set of grades and wide range of extracurricular activities, I got acceptance letters from top-tier universities around the world. I only applied to different countries to ensure my Dad and my university counselor that I was ‘exploring all my options’. Truth be told, India was the only place I had my heart set on since the very beginning. So I applied to the best private university in India. It was in my dream city, it had my dream course and the university was everything I hoped it would be; techie, multicultural and well-respected. When I received my acceptance letter, it also came with an academic scholarship. I was beyond ecstatic. Though I had been offered much higher bursaries in other universities around the world, I knew if I didn’t accept this offer, I would live to regret it. So I accepted it – and I left to India a few weeks later.
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After 7 long years, all it took was 2 weeks for the universe to hand me my dream on a silver platter. Everything wrapped up so quickly – and before I knew it, I was on my way to my beloved India~ Only a small majority of people in the world live long enough to see their ultimate dream come true – some wait a decade, others wait a lifetime and me? Almost half my life. Patience really is a virtue. I was so eager to reach India that I didn’t sleep at all during my 7-hour flight from Addis Ababa to New Delhi. I spent the entire time writing about how I felt now that everything worked out for me. My ‘Journey To India’ was just beginning… and I couldn’t think about anything else other than my blissful life ahead. The universe still challenged me though. I had to overcome many psychological obstacles to have been able to step on that plane and say to myself “Eden, I’m ready. Let’s do this”. For starters, I’ve always had a dreadful fear of heights/flying, and flying alone for that matter, to me at least, seemed like the scariest thing on earth. I was also afraid to leave my family. That was probably the toughest part of my journey. I’m close with everyone in my family. One year away from them felt like a lifetime. I know how incomplete our family felt before when one of my siblings went abroad to study his masters. We felt uncharacteristically strange for a while, but we healed in good time. I was afraid. I didn’t want that to happen again – but at the
same time, I knew I had to fulfill my destiny. After all, it was my calling. The best thing I could have done is keep my chin up and be genuinely optimistic. So I did that. I needed to be strong, for my family and for myself. I had to leave my comfort zone, where I knew there was no room for personal growth. I took a chance. I risked the good things I had, and bargained on the unknown. I did this because the contrary lifestyle (i.e. attending university elsewhere) neither appealed to me nor did it resonate with my soul at all. A few days after I had overcome my fears/doubts, there I was…unpacking my luggage and settling into my new dorm! Yes, I’d finally reached my ultimate destination. Everything felt so dreamlike. It was all heavenly and colourful, just like I had imagined it. India surpassed my expectations (and I had really high one). My university, my friends and my city surpassed my expectations. I smiled through each adventure because I knew it didn’t get better than this. I adapted and settled in very quickly. I didn’t even feel like I was on another continent – everything was all very natural to me. It felt like home. It felt like the place where I had truly belonged. I had an impeccable year overall. Everything invigorated my soul; the food, the people, the music, the customs, the clothing, the many adventures and memories made. It was the best year of my life! I was the happiest I had ever been.
I waited 7 years for m always been a big dre what I want. I was alw
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Final words of wisdom passionate about som ion that matters is you
A
my dreams to come true, and had I missed this window of opportunity, I would have waited 7 more. I’ve eamer but being a passionate and energetic doer is what got me here today. I’ve never been afraid to go after ways faithful to my values and motivated towards my goals.
s what it means to be alive, it means o be unafraid and unbreakable.".
m: It’s never too late to chase your dream, no matter what it is and what you have to do to get there. If you’re highly mething, never let that fire burn out – because there’s so much you can do with it. Be your biggest fan – the only opinur own. Never ignore failed attempts, learn from them. Don’t turn your back on obstacles, persevere through them.
S
Th
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Day
Mia Karp Mia Karp, founder and writer of the travel blog cleverly coined Karpe Diem, visually captures an earnestly profound portrayal of life’s beauty with bold images that juxtaposition the seemingly frail and almost microcosmic human form against backgrounds depicting the vastness, stillness and magnificence of nature creating an unprecedented harmonization of the two that remind us to literally and metaphorically seize the day.
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issue one
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issue one
The deep vibrations of the engine rumbled through the night as we barreled down the highway, piercing through the inky black that lie ahead of us. I was sitting there in silence next to a lady I had only said hello to at the beginning of our excursion. Now, pitch black, 1 AM, headed towards El Paso. Moments ago we were at a bus stop in Abilene. Everyone got off because we had to wait for some reason. There was a guy, blonde hair, blue jacket, he was lighting a cig. I walk up to him and bummed one, bringing out my own lighter, then pulling a drag. He tells me he's from Arizona. I really could care less, but I tell him I went to school in Scottsdale for a year. A lady briskly walking heads strait towards us. She asks for a cig and he hands her one. Then she begins to tell how she got here. There was a trucker in Oklahoma with a heart of gold. Opened his doors to her and now she's in Abilene, TX. We stood there blowing smoke into the air. "Hey, so I'm trying to score." She breaks the silence. "Score what?" I ask. "You know, anything you got." "Well I don't know what you're talking about." At that I leave. Away from everyone else was a group of four people. As I approached the group the tallest guy introduces himself as Southside and asks if I enjoyed my conversation with the cops. “It was painfully obvious.” I respond Away from everyone else was a group of four people. As I approached the group the tallest guy introduces himself as Southside and asks if I enjoyed my conversation with the cops. “It was painfully obvious.” I respond.
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MICHAEL GAR
RDNER
outhsides homie is named Pete, and there's an old man with a kid a couple years older than me. The old man continues recounting a story of how he obtained a bag of weed he briefly takes out of a coat pocket to show he wasn't bullshitting. Southside produces a blunt and asks if anyone can roll. No answer so I reach for the Phillie. "I got you." Old man then slaps the bag in my hand. "There you go kid. Don't use all of it." He jests, and we all begin to walk back to the bus. Standing in line now waiting to board Arizona walks up. "Hey man, that lady is willing to pay more than regular for some weed." "She sounds like a cop." "Look man, its easy money, she's right over there. I'll go with you." "Look man, now you sound like a cop."
Now I’m sitting in the dark clutching my bag len weed, money, and clothes. Everything my lap. The lady next to me begins to reca from her childhood. She was playing outside with her dolls when a rabid dog appeared. growling, seething at the mouth. She said sh stared in fear. In the distance the family do heard, barks getting louder and louder, and of light Goldy lunged for the dog taking it to t
Ferociously biting, scratching, jumping an Goldy fought back the rabid dog tooth and thing she heard was the booming of a sh both dogs lyin less on the g fore her. Stil her father pick and they hea towards the With tears in he ring her visio body kept get and further aw ery step. She wanted to call out to her beloved time but couldn’t find the strength. Just wet, b
“Now I'm sitting in the dark clutching my bag full of stolen weed, money, and clothes. Everything I own is in my lap.”
I step onto the bus and find my way to the bathroom. Mexican brick weed. It's flaky, smells like lawn clippings, full of seeds, but gets the job done. I skim the top of the bag for later. I'm taking a risk. I deserve some payment. The window in the bathroom is already cracked open. There are burn marks around the edge of the window where cigarette cherry got to close. My bag had an inner hidden pocket perfect for storing drug paraphernalia. Inside was a one hitter which I packed several times before exiting the bathroom. Making my way back to my seat I pass the blunt and weed off to the old man. Inside was a one hitter which I packed several times before exiting the bathroom. Making my way back to my seat I pass the blunt and weed off to the old man.
“My grandma used to tell me stories like tha seen her in a long time.” “You should pay your grandmother a visit would appreciate that very much.” “I know you’re right. I’m going to once I ge I’m headed.” She smiles and closes her eyes. I’m 16, sitting on a dark bus arms wrapped
g full of stoI own is in all an event e in the dirt It was wild, he froze and og could be like a flash the ground.
nd yelping, d nail. Next hotgun and ng motionground bell in shock ked her up aded back farmhouse. er eyes bluron, Goldys’ tting further way with evpet one last blurry tears.
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pur ple Montana Sovboda
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As wind blows tender, Stroking dry the wetness from a cheek Transitioning to a smile A choir canaries hymns of vernal origin Harmonizing toward deliquescence Before fragmenting into crescendoThrough repetition the background theme of our bodies motion Is established Pavement unfolds itself Trees escape from the crevices Rolling outward Hills combed with deer trails A white tail flashes Then evaporates against the landscape Escape to dirt roads eroded A foot path barely evident Huron can hear us now Shaking hands with a peninsula Reaching for whatever it can get, Skip stones with the direction of water’s current Speaking morse code Sending a message in response to sand blown Huron can you understand us now? The fire is soft Glistening amidst sweatshirts snug together Whistle a tune catchy and captivatingOh bright, Oh beautiful, Of all the places The sun touches We are here tonight
Poetry
Welcome to the Jungle The following is a series of four chronological short stories crafted by the whimsical author and DIY guru of Tel Avivian blog, The Jungle. Recounting classic coming of age experiences with a modern urban twist, Rotem shares some of her most impressionable moments, experiences, and life lessons moving from her hometown and into the big city. Complete with plight and triumph, love and rats, family and a curiously suspect underpants sniffer (and not necessarily in any relation to one another) these engaging short narratives accompanied by the playful and charming illustrations of Portuguese artist Rafaela Rodrigues will undoubtedly give you something to relate to and something to smile about.
Cubicle Queen It was 9:30, on a sunny Tel Avivian morning. I stood outside a small 5 story building, waiting in the sun. The temperature hit 35 degrees and the circumstances made me regret wearing long pants, but what could I do? Those pants were a part of my well-chosen Interview outfit. It is known that interviews require long pants, even if their scheduled for mornings like this, when it’s moist enough to swim through the air. This morning didn’t go as I planned. The office on the first floor was surprisingly empty, no one was there to appreciate my elegant-long-pants-outfit or let me in to the air condition or interview me for the job. 15 minutes into waiting, I gained the courage and called the CEO and ask – “didn’t we schedule for 9? “. “Yes,” He said, sounding quite casual “Isn’t the VP there? I’m pretty sure he is. You probably didn’t knock hard enough”. “Ohh” I said feeling silly, “I’ll try again”, I added while knocking much harder.
Rotem Ben Tzur
The second try proved the office was indeed empty and also how easy it is for to get wounded by a knock. “OK, it’s empty” I said confidently, trying to conceal the pain that rose up my arm. “Ohh, I’m so sorry!” he apologized, “Don’t move! I’m on my way, I’ll be there in a sec!”.
Thing is - I never aimed for this "office" lifestyle, I even tried to avoid it. He arrived at 9:40, at a point where morning elegance was a thing of the past. No long pants could save the look from my tomato-red face or the formerly loose bun that turned into a frizzy nest. It was clear he felt bad, so I started with a joke, saying - “Well, you sure do need an office manager to arm the office in the mornings, don’t you?”. “Ya” he said in a serious tone, “this is why we’re having this interview”. “Right, right…”
He opened the door and we headed to a small, air-conditioned lounging room. After we sat down, he asked, “Do you want to start by telling me about yourself?”. “Yes!” I said smiling, “I’m Rotem. I’m 22, I have 3 brothers, a super cute mixed breed dog and a cat I really hate. I’m also allergic to cats, so if you have any in the office or something like that... Anyway, I grew up in the north, my mom is a school headmaster and my dad is in the Hi-Tech industry, we’re all very homey people and…” “That’s nice” he stopped my flow, “Do you live with your parents?” “No, I moved to Tel Aviv from the countryside a couple of months ago, I live in a small street next to the Carmel market.”, I said with Pride, “ My current job isn’t far from there. I work 3 days a week as a studio manager for a fashion designer as a parttime job, so I’m looking for another part-time position. I saw your ad and liked the fact you call your office manager position “manager of happiness”, it sounds like something I would enjoy doing.” “No, we are really looking for a manager of happiness, someone that knows her way around technology. Which leads me to a question I wanted to ask you why fashion? It doesn’t fit in with your background”. “Well, I love fashion.” I answered, caught off guard by the question. “As a studio manager I mainly deal with social media, which does reflect my computing background. And.. umm.. I’m actually not sure what I want to do when I grow up, so I’m trying different things. That’s why I applied for this position, it seems quite versatile.” And versatile it was! A week later I officially became the manager of happiness / CEO assistant/ Marketing team member/ office manager of the small office “Burritos” (real name withheld). I absolutely loved it! I enjoyed the job so much that a couple of months later I became a full-time office gal, working 8 to 5, Sundays to Thursdays.
Thing is - I never aimed for this “office” lifestyle, I even tried to avoid it. After finishing my army service I didn’t want to come near a computer screen. I flew as far as I could from the florescent lights and the time schedules, and spent 5 month volunteering and backpacking through western & southern Africa. I came back knowing much more about myself but much less about what I want to do in life. Well, I knew things, like the fact that building a family would be an important part of my life, yet I had no Idea of what I wanted to do for a career. Filled with the traveling courage I came back with, I searched for interesting options, and after a few interviews in different industries, started working as a studio manager of a small brand. Teenage Rotem would probably define this as her dream job, but in reality, fashion had to go hand in hand with waitressing to make a living and pretty quickly I found myself working in two unpleasant environments around the clock, far from anything dreamy. Life was shitty at that point. Funny how the so-called boring job in the office made my life much more interesting and joyful than the life I had while working at the job with an impressive title in the fashion industry. Since I started working full time at “Burritos”, I have time to hang out with friends, do Pilates, and learn to sew. A whole new world was revealed to me when I started earning a proper salary and finished working at 17:00. So, one of the things I learned this year is that I need to choose a career that enables me to live the lifestyle that makes me happy, skipping titles and focusing on the pace of living. Happy Rotem needs time to craft and dance, to work with nice people, to calmly pass the end of the month. When I understood what’s important for me, my career choices just fit into place and choosing my college major became a smaller dilemma. Now I’m on a highway of a life where I have the time and money to smile every morning and regularly enjoy almond croissants, the best way in my opinion.
Here and Gone Merylin Lira
Part one
The following images are a collection of photos found in a series of binders salvaged from a scattered heap of abandoned files, hand written postcards, letters, VHS tapes and other sentimental artifacts at the curbside of a street near my home in Lisbon. It can most likely be assumed that the subject of many of these photos owned the possessions carelessly trashed and that the trashing was most likely due to her passing. An even more unfortunate speculation is that she had no one to claim these priceless souvenirs documenting her existence and although we known nothing about her other than what we can superficially deduce from these images, there is still a reverence evoked from peeking at the personal collection of photographs of a woman whose memory almost ended up in a landfill. More interestingly the photos document her world travels over a span of nine years starting in 1978, from Athens to Bangkok with Spain, France and other destinations in between. Part one of this article will share some of the most sincere and revealing photographs that seem to best celebrate the memory of Maria Elvira Duarte Ganda Evaristo.
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Tthere is
always a Wway out Morris Mwavizo
When I was growing up, I loved capturing ants and trapping them in mud cell walls that were either too high for the ant to climb over, or so wet that it would probably drown. And every time I would do that, I would be amazed at the determination that the ant would have to get out of whichever place it was in. The ant would struggle to get out, hour after hour, going from corner to corner, even though there might have been no way out. And it is this determination of finding a way out on which my life’s principles are founded. I believe there is always a way out of any situation you find yourself in. I have believed in this from my early childhood days and that belief has raised me into who I am.
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“...although I passed form four with flying colors, college was not an option for me."”
When I was in school, I wanted to become a writer—to work in a media house and study writing and journalism. But life took on a bitter twist after my parents broke up and I found that although I passed form four with flying colors, college was not an option for me. I took on several jobs, and was at times so broke that buying paper for writing was not an option. But through it all, I found a way to keep writing. I wrote on the insides of the paper that wrapped maize flour. Wrote on papers I picked up on the streets. I worked as a hawker during the day and wrote poetry and short stories in the evenings, hundreds of which I lost. I trained and worked as a carpenter and still dreamt of writing one day. To keep my dream alive, I wrote about wood and carpentry.
Essay
In whichever circumstances I found myself, I never lost hope because I believed there was a way out. I found myself working in a construction firm and while there, I started an online course for writing. My fellow employees thought I was a joke. I tore up used cement bags and wrote on the insides of them. It took me more than a decade of dreaming and three years of study to get certified as a writer. And at 34, I have written for international papers, had my work published in magazines, and have worked for three media houses, all because I believed there was a way out. Writing has changed my life. I found a way out and it provided a way out of poverty for me. I believe it matters not where you are and what you are going through. There is always a way out. All you have to do is keep looking for it.
Saudade Tobacco colored eyes, smoky allure baiting, waiting, for any answer regardless how I feel it’s never just a yes or no, it’s neither. Cracked lips never give quivers they softly speck in shivers behold, only to receive ghosts who live solely in memories. The lights eventually change, expiration still leave residue images of those pale limbs tangled, wrapped or locked. Trick of imagination, rampantly thrashing towards whispered hope of mutual futures. Chestnut locks of hair, draped in dreams. Nevermind any touch of warmth. Skin always forgets. Nevermind any word or smile, these are just temporary. It’s all living in soft regret forgotten names or calls, faded memories of fall, not sure if we’ve even met.
Vincent Luong
Love is the esse nt ia l existential fact. It is our ultimate reality and our purpose on earth. - Marianna Williamson
Stay Tuned. In the complete first issue - Brasilian Street Photograhper Diogo smith captures the beauty of the so called "modern day untouchables." - In interview with two of the people behind the non profit organization feeding Portugals impoverished population. - Ethereal words and watercolours from a artist and philosophy student Elaine Pasqual, who goes by the moniker "Little Captain Nemo". - The complete set of short stories life in " the big orange" from Tel Avivian writer and blogger Rotem Ben Azur . - An article on the importance of familial ties play in the in role of personal identity by Urbanist Rodrigo Tavares.
And more.
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