Lets Start Digging

Digging a pit latrine is no easy task.
Before I divulge into the details, I’d like to spend a few moments regarding public transport in Tanzania. After doing a bit of traveling these past few weeks both to meet other trachoma researchers and to volunteer with Engineers Without Borders, I have had many dreadful bus rides. The further you are from the main highways, of which there are three; one that runs north to Kenya, one up to Dodoma in the center, and another south to Zambia and Malawi, the more adventurous the ride becomes. The photo is of the local transport in the Usambara Mountains where I stopped to visit a family I lived with in 1999. Limited on time, I decided to bike through the mountains rather than hike to their village. On more than one occasion I thought I might die of exhaustion but “Mungu akipenda”-god willing, I survived.

Besides the fact the bus never leaves on time, the price is always higher for a “mzungu”, a seat could mean a soda crate or a bag of maize, and the bus actually reaching the destination without a breakdown is miracle, there are the crazy drivers. The most notable include the man that was smoking weed while passing a double-container lorry going up a hill, the fellow that ran personal errands along the route stopping for mangoes, fish, charcoal, a chat with old friends, to smoke a cigarette, and of course to go to the bathroom, and finally there was the ungentleman that insisted that for any bag over 1 kg (which by my rough calculation meant all the bags on the bus) there was an extra $5 fee. The fee of course only applied to white passengers, of which I was the only one.

The highlight of the past few weeks has been the time spent in Ngelenge Village, on the shores of Lake Nyasa (or Lake Malawi). The village is a 2 to 4 day trip from Dar es Salaam (depending on your mode of transport of course) and set in the most picturesque surroundings. There is the deep, blue fresh lake (the 3rd largest in Africa with a depth of 700 meters and a length of 560 kilometers), the Livingstone Mountains, and without any major road or city for hundreds of kilometers one really feels as if they are on the edge of the world. The first photo is of the mighty Ruhuhu River which is crossed either by canoe, or when you have a 4 ton lorry full of cement and lumber as we did, by a human powered ferry. The next photo is of Lake Nyasa, which is full of delicious fish, crocodiles, and even hippos.

I, along with a number of energetic folks, have been volunteering on a water/health project in Ngelenge since 2004. The project was initiated by the villagers themselves who created their own development NGO (NGEDEA) with assistance from relatives in Dar es Salaam. Engineers Without Borders (EWB) joined the team in 2005 and we have been sending volunteers there every 6 months. To learn more check out: www.ngedea.org or http://www.ewb-sfp.org/projects/tanzania/current.html.

The agenda this trip was largely to finish the health dispensary which the villagers are building themselves and to assist with the other projects including a gardening/irrigation project, improved water distribution scheme, a pilot filter project, and a new initiative on improved latrines. The days were full and included lots of sweaty but energizing labor. After realizing my weak arms were no match for the burly village men digging the pit of the dispensary latrine, I stuck to the paint team. The NGEDEA members, both those living in the village and those I traveled with from Dar es Salaam, were incredible at enlivening the villagers to assist with the efforts. Even the little kids helped! Sadly the local government is mostly trained in sitting under the mango tree and talking, talking, and talking.

In addition to the funds that EWB raised, Ngelenge was fortunate to have two local groups from Spencer, Iowa (PEO Women’s Chapter and Rotary) raise money for the dispensary latrine and the new latrine initiative. Since 2004 NGEDEA-EWB has nearly completed the dispensary, dug three wells, and initiated improved water handling practices, such as modifying home water containers with a tap (see photo) rather than having kids stick their dirty hands in the water to obtain a drink. However, there has been little effort to improve sanitation, which is fundamental for improving health.

A health survey done by an epidemiologist in 2006 found that 59% of the households are affected by diarrheal disease and 35% by trachoma. Although the villagers have expressed their interest in building improved latrines to reduce smells, improve cleanliness, and “modernize”, due to lack of resources and encouragement there have not been any latrine efforts in the village. The aim of the current initiative is to provide educational materials and seminars on the links between sanitation and health, offer technical training to local villagers who will assist in building the latrines, and establish a latrine revolving fund managed by the village latrine team. Villagers will pay for the full cost of the latrine, yet over an extended period (2 years) when money, such as during harvest season, becomes available. While in the village I trained the newly formed latrine group in accounting procedures (see photo), evaluating current latrines and monitoring progress on building future latrines, and provided educational materials in preparation for the hygiene and latrine technical seminar that will be given by Tanzanian sanitation experts in the village in January.

The most challenge aspect having villagers utilize the revolving fund will be to overcome the legacy of outsiders “giving donations”. In the past, Tanzanian latrine projects only required villagers to dig the latrine pit, and provide the materials for the latrine superstructure. However, the cement slab floor and other purchased materials were donated. Current thinking by international NGOs, such as WaterAid, and the Tanzanian Government is that subsidizing latrines is not sustainable and erodes local empowerment. Furthermore when latrines are subsidized it limits the number of latrines that can be built as funds are never sufficient to build one for every household in the village.

Finally, I could not leave the village without making rice krispie bars. There were a hit when I was there in 2005 and once again the village women eagerly ate the sweet, sticky mash of goo. There were also amazed at how quickly they can be made, considering the the hours it takes to harvest cassava, dry cassava, pound cassava, boil cassava with water, and finally obtain ugali for eating. The wonders of packaged food!

As I said farewell to Ngelenge I was quite certain it would not be my last visit. Perhaps I can even do a bit of research there in the future. And the villagers too reminded me “karibu sana tena”, you are most welcome again.

Ngelenge Women

They remembered I like my tea with just a bit of sugar;
taught me how to sing songs about traveling, love, and loss
stayed up late working and rose early to work again
truthful and honest with each other
showed me beads they use to excite their husbands, then gave me some
ate only after everyone else was fed
complained bitterly and then laughed with joy
wrestled like giggling children for the remaining bite of fish
waited, but were never idle; always a task to do
braided hair, wove mats, peeled cassava, and planned for tomorrow
spoke with strong voices
let the light in the hearts shine
wore only skirts, even to swim
walked with a straight, tall back
They loved. They accepted. They lived.

Greetings once again from Tanzania. The team and I finally finished the report and visited all the villages in which we worked to report back on the results. Each of us took a topic from the research...latrines, water, flies, economic development, and had fun with markers and big pads of paper. In general the basic statistics on the 700 surveys we conducted were quite interesting:

-Water: The Tanzanian National Target in line with the UN MGDs is to ensure that 65% of rural individuals have access to "improved" water within 30 minutes of their home. What we found:

"Improved"-62% (Dry Season), 50% (Rainy Season)
Within 30 min-11% (Dry Season), 25% (Rainy Season)

As it turns out the access to water is still terribly low. Safe water, especially in the rainy season when villagers prefer the fresh-water natural ponds (i.e. big pools of water full of cow crap) the precentage with access to improved water decreases.

-Latrines: The government target for rural areas is 95% access to latrines and we found that the actual number is quite close to this at 88%. Yet the conditions are quite appalling. Of course I could have told someone that without doing the survey based on my own experiences. Encountering a family of goats living inside one latrine along with several latrines "full to brim" quickly come to mind. According to our rankings based on use and health benefits:

<1%:Modern, improved with Vent Pipe

19%: Improved, but O&M not completely sufficient

80%: Poor latrines or no latrines at all

The lesson here is that much more effort needs to be put into educating people about the importance of latrines and providing tools/knoweldge to assist in building and maintaining latrines. One can build a high, quality, easy to clean latrine for $30 or less. One idea we are exploring is a establishing a Latrine Revolving Fund where villages give an initial contribution and then slowly over 2 years pay back all the materials. The purchases items are basicially just a bag of cement for the floor and a vent pipe. The rest of the materials are all locally available such as clay-burnt bricks, grass for the roof, and cloth for the door.

-Hygiene: Hygiene also demonstrate an area that could definitely be improved. For example:

-50-98%,depending on the village, had feces within 10 meters of their home (watch where you step)

-53-82%, depending on the village, did not have a garbage pit...which means the garbage is strewn about which makes for very happy flies and hence possiblity of transmitting disease.

We had to be creative about where we presented. As the photos demonstrate we used classrooms, taped paper to the side of buildings, and the most effective was the "mobile classroom" which involved us using the side of the car. A local artist illustrated methods by which to prevent trachoma which we distributed. At least they could look at something if they tired of our faces. Besides discovering the Tanzanian markers last for about 2 minutes before they run out of ink, we learned quite a bit, including "Quick Wins take a long time." Quick Wins is actually a project funded by the African Development Bank to alleviate immediate shortages of water in rural areas before longer term solutions can be implemented. Two of the villages in which we worked were selected to obtain Quick Win money in early 2007. One village did receive the money and the well so I suppose 50% is not bad. Meanwhile the other village decided to sit-down right then and there and write a letter to the Deputy Minister of Water in Dodoma articulating their commitment (water fund, water committee, etc) and inquire about when the Quick Win might happen. Hence we added another task to our list for the day....rural post service.

Now the big challenge awaits...the in-depth analysis , paper writing, and dissertation.... I guess I should start saying my prayers.

Haiku for Laughter

Spontaneously

Two hearts decide to converse

Laughter says so much.

Roadside Market

They sat brilliantly

neatly arranged by the seller

as if there was nothing more important

than placing one tomato

on top of another

we all do it with our own lives

placing fruits on top of fruits

hoping to hide the blemishes;

if ever asked a price

it would be impossible to

account for all the labor,

the love,

and this is how we go on

planting, tending, harvesting,

and simply hoping there

will be sweetness at the

end of each day.

African Cake

The day of African cake began like any other. The birds starting singing at 5:30, then the roosters started squawking at 5:45 and finally at 6:00 you could here the children and mothers humming as they walked to the well or community tap or broken pipe sticking out of the ground, all the typical places people obtain water in the bustling town of Kongwa. We just finished collecting our data in our last village on water, sanitation, and trachoma (where the photo shows myself with Ester, Peter, two of my assistants, along with some villagers). It was time to celebrate. Of course the report, final fly experiments, and presentation of results to the villagers remain but the African cake was just waiting to be eaten.

We drove to the nearby village, Mlanga to pick up our cake, or rather our goat. She was not happy about riding in the pickup and tried to jump out several times. Her prayers must have been answer as my assistants decided she was too small so we drove to another villager's house to exchange her for a much bigger, more boisterous billy goat. We brought the goat back to the research station where Uweso our GPS lead, wise advice lender, and driver slit the neck. Unfortunately all we had in the kitchen was a dull, Chinese made knife which made the process of killing the goat a bit difficult. Luckily I was in the "choo"-bathroom and missed the actual process. Next it was time to clean the goat and many were quick to claim the skin which is used to make local drums. Before we could start chopping the meat we had to wait for the local vet to come examine the goat to make sure it was safe to eat. After about two hours of waiting he arrived on the scene, felt a few of the internal organs, and declared it fit for consumption. I'm not sure about the science of this method, but considering we bought 6 liters of oil in which to fry the meat I was sure whatever disease the goat might have had, it was certainly be killed in all the grease.

I, along with Rehema, the office manager shown in the photo, decided to stick to the less messy task of peeling 100 bananas that also would be fried (of course) to compliment the African cake. A few hours later the guests arrived, among them many children dressed in their Sunday best. We ate, and drank and ate some more and then danced to the Tanzanian tunes that blared from the tape player. As always I tried in vain to shake my behind like the women are so adept at doing; if only I had more time for practice! We did decide though to pass on the local brew (as these women are shown cooking).

The rains have finally arrived here in Kongwa and it has tamed the dust storms that sweep up everything in their path. It also means that soon the dry ponds and river beds which have become mere trickles of water will hopefully fill with blue life. The lack of water is quite evident as the villagers constantly remind us. They often complain of their inability to wash themselves or their clothes, the lack of water for having gardens and growing vegetables and the fact that the little water they do have is often either salty (difficult to use for cooking or washing) or from a surface source which is contaminated by cattle and whatever else is roaming in the bush. The villagers also complain about the lack of attention from the government officials. However, after recently meeting with the Ministry of Water and listening to them explain for over a hour the 15-step process for using funds provided by the World Bank, for example, I understand why water projects take so long to initiate. And each funder has their own 15-step process...African Development Bank, World Bank, US AID, etc. One needs a computer program just to decipher it all.

We are now busy working on a bit of analysis, making GIS maps, and finishing the report which will be given to the villagers along with district, regional, and national stakeholders. I have made a few Swahili blunders in the report, such as confusing "kujitegeamea"-self-reliance, with "kujisaidia"-to relieve one's self as in going to the bathroom, but in actuality the two words probaly are not so different. Hopefully my assistants will catch most of the errors.

The final poem was inspired by all the furnerals that have occured in Kongwa recently. They are large affairs where dozens and even hundreds of family and friends come to sleep, to eat, and to mourn for several days. Often the entire neighborhood is consumed by the affair and everyone stops to pay respect. Life is so fragile yet the people so strong.

Sky

If you are in need of encouragement
look up at the night sky
surely you will see
at least a thousand stars
wanting to give you their light.

No Longer Among Us

They do not cry,
much.
Tears do not feed the stomach.
They come together to remember,
to sit silently;

whispering strong words.
Death is too familiar here.
Is God taking one too many?
What is not understood
is left to simmer.
Patiently they know
faith and courage prevail.

Attack of Salmonella Typhi

To start I wanted to include one photo of our team and my adviser taken the day before he left in Machenge Village...smiles all around.

It was bound to happen at some point. From handling hundreds of flies each week that are carrying thousands of bacteria, to eating sweet, raw tomatoes, to stopping habitually alongside the road for grilled field corn that has been touched, examined, and inspected by at least a dozen potential customers, all using their unwashed hands. After a week of an upset stomach, headaches, not being able to go to the bathroom (which already was a problem) and generally feeling weak I finally went to the dispensary run by the Catholic nuns.

Compared to most dispensaries in rural Tanzania it is remarkably clean and welcoming with vases of frangipani are in every room. The place was so inviting that while waiting for my blood results I decided to take a nap on the cot. A stream of patients kept walking by the room where I slept, staring at the "mzungu" (white person), who was seemingly comatose. The room also happened to be where they were conducting the new point of use (POU) HIV tests. Unfortunately, many who had come to be tested were positive, but at least they had come at all as many are afraid to know their status. When I asked the nuns about HIV they said the largest prevalence is among government officials, especially those in the Ministry of Education. Much to my dismay I was told that secondary school girls are often "hired" by these government officials.

The results of the blood tests showed I had typhoid fever, a bacterial infection most commonly found where there is poor sanitation and where water is contaminated by fecal material. I am not alone as typhoid fever affects over 20 million people each year and causes 200,000 deaths, mostly in children less than five years old. Of course it does not take a PhD researcher to tell someone that the sanitation in Tanzania is poor, but I certainly have had a close and personal experience with many of the nasty latrines found in the villages.

Now back on the mend my team and I are still out and about. Two days ago a deep well (360 feet) was drilled in Manyata, a village where people had to travel up to 7 km to obtain water or buy incredibly expensive 20 liter buckets from vendors. The district engineer and his assistant along with a videographer hired from Dodoma came to watch the well being drilled. The videographer took his job very seriously walking around in a suit with a big microphone (which I think was more for effect than actual function) interviewing villagers and officials. I too was included in the interviews and I just hope my broken Swahili was at least comprehensible. There were many shrieks of joy from the villagers, dancing, and lots of discussion about how Manyata had really "uchangamka"-woken up. Now the challenge remains to maintain the system, but for now everyone is certainly filled with joy.

Otherwise life continues on much the same in Kongwa, only it becomes hotter each day as we move into the peak of the dry season. The good news is the usally stark and barren baobabs are flowering beautiful white blossoms. This means rain is on the way!

Free Rider

Riding in the back of a truck
packed with charcoal and mysterious oil drums
a man in a suit peers out into the savannah
with dignified curiosity.

Millet Has Never Looked Better

It is harvest time for millet or mtama as it is known in Swahili. The main market for millet in the area just happens to be in Kongwa, very close to the research station. What was once an empty piece of land is now bustling with women gracefully carrying 50 kgs sacks of millet on their head, men arguing over the price, and kids doing what kids like to do which is to laugh, get dirty, and wonder why adults have to be so serious all the time.

While walking to see the sunset with my adviser, Menachem "Meny" Elimelech who came for a week to visit the research site, we were stopped by a local farmer. The man wanted to show us his millet. "It is the best you have ever seen" he told us. We ambled through the thorn bushes over to his mud hut where his wife stood smiling ready to show us the prized crop. The small white grains that they so deligently harvested by hand, then pounded with sticks to remove the husks, and finally sifted to clean any remaining debris were pilled high next to their house. Of course we did not have much to compare it to, but to our naive eyes it did look like mighty fine millet.

Meny has a big hit in the village in which we were working. It certainly helped my own cause to walk around with a man with grey hair (a sign of wisdom and status). We were received with many more "Shikamoo", the greeting given to an elder, than usual. We tromped throughout the village and past the giant baobabs to examine first the open hole wells. These are wells 15-25 feet deep which villagers dig themselves and must dig each year as they collaspe during the heavy rains. Besides the fact one is likely to fall to their death, or at least break several bones falling down one of these wells, the water in the wells is inadequate and quite turbid. Yet, in Kongwa District where water scarcity is significant, the priority is simply to obtain water without regard for quality or treatment. After viewing the wells a debate amoung the women and the one man at the well ensured over the amount of work women are reponsible for; obtaining water, gathering firewood, cooking, taking care of the children, etc, compared to men. The solo man tried argue that men do help as well, but when he hopped in our truck to get a ride back to the center of the village leaving the women behind to gather the water and then carry the heavy buckets several kilometers on their head back home we knew he really did not have much of a case.

The village also has one deep well about 60 feet that pumps water to a few community taps that serve about 1/3 of the village. Each day there was always a lively group waiting to obtain water, water they claimed was completely "chumvi", salty. Meny and I tried the water and did find it to be a bit salty but drinkable. Perhaps we tasted the water on a good day. Yet, even taste aside, the water is so salty that it cannot be used to water plants (they dry out), to wash with (you cannot obtain suds), or cook the daily dish of beans (they simply will not boil).

Back in 2002 the village was the fortunate receiptent of aid for latrines from the Kongwa Trachoma Project (KTP), the research group/NGO with which I am collaborating. KTP donated the cement slab floors and the plastic vent pipes and the villagers had to do the rest; dig the pit, build the structure, and install a roof. Over 250 latrines were built and most are still in excellent condition as seen below.

However, with over 680 households in the village there are still many who use very poor facilities. The villagers claim that those who did not receive assistance in 2002 were "uvivu" or lazy. They did not dig a pit as was the precondition to recieve the latrine supplies. Now, however, they state that those who did not build latrines have seen the "faida" or profits, gained by those that did and would gladly build a nice loo if given the opportunity.

Meny's final night was marked by dinner with the nuns from the Catholic Mission next to the research station. He was a bit weary of whether or not it was allowed for men to enter the convent but I assured him both they and God approved. Besides the fact that pork was served, probaly obtained from the local butcher (shown below), and being Jewish Meny does not eat pork, it was a dinner filled with laughter and lively debate. We happily drank the wine made by the sisters in hopes it might infuse us with a bit of holiness and ended the meal by agreeing that nuns can have fun. As we walked home under the wide African night sky gleaming with stars there was a sense of possibility and an understanding that change begins one smile, one person, one village at a time.

Happy Cafe

Along the dusty road

I saw a sign;
Happy Cafe it proudly read.
To know happiness;

creating something from nothing,

finding your voice,

uncovering a truth,

understanding a soul,

tasting a succulent orange,

dreaming of possibilities,

feeling the light of the world on your cheek

and knowing,

truly knowing

that there is no limit to the happiness

this world offers.

If you dig, you will find

The sun continues to shine, the dust continues to cover every surface, and the kids continue to have most of the answers to life here in Kongwa. Our most recent research village was Mkutani where again when talking to the schoolchildren they knew more than most adults about how trachoma is spread, how to prevent it, and the importance of having a clean and well kept home. Of course putting words into action is especially difficult when there is no water. The photo is of men digging a well in Majawanga. They dig up to 20 feet to find water, which of course is not sanitary as anything can enter the hole.

Then there is the afternoon sun which can become so strong that even the pigs must rest.

Even in villages that have natural flowing sources of water, such as Mkutani, the water is shared with the cattle, the kids bathing, the donkeys carrying the few gourds, blankets, and cheap metal pots made in China when the Wamaasi, a pastoralist tribe, move from one grazing area to another.

When talking to the women's groups, which are always strong and number and always take their time coming to the meeting, they told me they do not boil the water from the river. They also said that diseaes such as cholera, diarrhea, and typhoid are quite common. When I asked why they do not boil they gave so many reasons...boiling requires firewood which is difficult to find, it takes time to boil which they do not have, and because simply "tumezoea"-we have become accustomed to this way. Our research cannot attempt to solve all the difficulties of water, sanitation, and health, but it is showing that there are direct links between not just access but the quality of a water source and latrines, as well as how hygiene behavior is linked spatially throughout a village.

When not traveling to the villagesI have managed to convince the Italian friends I have met in

Kongwa to go hiking. Hiking here in Tanzania is not like in Switzerland where there are nicely marked trails and hopefully a rest house serving cheese and bread along the way. Rather the trails often are those the villagers created as "njia panya"-trails of the rat or shortcuts, through the fields and forest. When hiking last weekend from Kongwa to Mpwapwa (about 30 km away) the Tanzanians we met along the trail were shocked that we had decided to walk when we could have taken the bus. Somehow for the "scenery" does not resonate with them.

The next photos are from our hiking in the Uluguru Mountains, about 4 hours southwest of Kongwa. What a delight it was to be where everything is green, instead of red, and the produce is plentiful. We set off without a guide, but soon an entrepreneurial young boy not more than nine years old, found us a bit lost in the fields and offered to be our guide. He really did not know the trails himself as he bushwacked through the thorns and grass and fell a number of times, but still we felt safer with him by our side. He then told us a sad story about how he was an orphan and both of his parents are deceased.

Right as our pity for him peaked, we met his mom on the way back to the village where we were spending the night. She shouted out a hearty hello to her son. We treated him to the liquid gold of the village (Coke) and gave him some Shillings for his services, and said goodnight to both him and his mom under the fading light of yet another beautiful Tanzanian sunset.

Sun Kissed

Every evening the sun kisses the clouds
then the tall trees, the houses and rooftops,

the people who may or may not be too busy to stop

then the cattle and goats and dogs and cats,

the plants both wild and sown with care

finally the rocks, the sand, the very
Earth we depend on everyday for support.
Not a single thing is left untouched

by the most incredible, infinite kiss

the world has ever known.
And to think there is still tomorrow.

Watch Out for the Cow Crap

BanyiBanyi. The word has a nice ring, almost melodic. It is not one of those giant bugs with antennae that stretch for meters and you find crawling in your bed right in teh middle of the night, but rather the name of the village in which we are currently working. Although the research methods are the same, the experience is always unique. BanyiBanyi has an interesting mix of farmers (Wagogo Tribe) and pastoralists (Maasi and Mangh’ati). The Maasi and Mangh’ati would rather live in the bush than in the village, especially it seemed as far away from any road as possible. This meant we spent quite a few hours walking (and avoiding cow crap on the many paths). A single Mangh’ati family (which includes a man and several wives) may own hundreds of cattle and every day they must be walked to where they can drink and eat. We passed many on the trails who could not figure out what the blonde ponytail was on the back of my head. "Is it really hair?” they asked. They also were interested to know “In which part of Tanzania is American located?” I am not sure if it humbling or disheartening to know that in our increasingly global world there are still people who do not know where the U.S. is located. Of course when I told the story to my Dad all he could think about was if some men took several wives other less sauve men would be left out in the cold.
Fortunately for me the men were not interested in taking me as a bribe (I would be quite useless in making clothes out of animal skins). However, one sprightly young woman did tell one of my assistants who from the Wagogo tribe that she would marry him for the small price of only 5 cattle.

What was most impressive in BanyiBanyi, besides the motivated village executive officer who decreed while we were there that every villager must build a latrine, were the children. Their knowledge of malaria, typhoid, trachoma, and cholera was quite impressive; as was their understanding of how to prevent disease. They even had several colorful songs to share with us about trachoma, water, and sanitation. It was enough to make one start digging a latrine on the spot. The challenge of course is convincing their parents, most of whom have not even completed primary school, that children have much to teach us.

Back in Kongwa life continues on peacefully. The rusty sheen from the dust that seems to increase each week of the dry season has permeated pretty much everything. The fellow in one of the first photos who has a human radar like no one I have ever met, continues to find me whenever I leave the research station. He lucked out yesterday as he ran into me as I was buying some stale biscuits (which are strangely addictive). I bought him some as well along with a soda for which he always asks. Of course I did not have enough money as the price of the biscuits had risen from the day before; “the price of gas, sister, keeps increasing”. This seems to be the reason for every price increase. If only we had energy independence here in Tanzania!

And finally a poem;

Never is a friendship more blessed
than when two laugh, from that place deep within
where souls share secrets and the light
never fades.