Goodbyes

My dear friend,

A little over a year ago I met you at a hostel in Madrid, Spain waiting for a walking tour. I'll never forget your smile when I introduced myself and asked where your accent was from, or the pure joy that lit up your face when you saw the perfect picture. I even smile when I remember how frustrated you were trying to find the perfect place to eat that night, and how torn you were between being concerned with how queasy I was at the bullfight and how enthusiastic you were to be experiencing it. You and I shared the same enthusiasm for the idea of a good Spanish meal, even if we didn't share the same idea of what was a good budget for said meal. I will always remember Patatas Brava and cheap Spanish wine while you told me all about South Africa and the Antarctic. I had no idea what a profound impact you were ultimately going to make on my life.

We missed each other in Seville by mere hours, and remet again in Granada. I remember being terrified I was going to run into my terrible former hostel-mates, but I wanted so badly for you to get the perfect picture of the Alhambra, and the best view I had seen was from the terrace below the hostel.

You took forever.

And when you came back I was so upset with you, and you just laughed because it really wasn't a big deal. I'm always going to remember the excitement I felt the first time I dipped my foot into the mediterranean and you didn't judge me, because you were just as excited. You swam out way farther than I would have dared. For the next few weeks we would correspond and then run into each other by 'coincidence' -- once in Pisa, again in Rome. I think the universe knew that we were fated to be friends, and that it knew I had much to learn from you.

You wanted so much to find the love of your life and to spend the rest of your days with her. Sometimes you seemed so sad while remaining so hopeful. I remember long talks on even longer train rides, eating chocolate biscuits while you listened to me pour my heart out over all those mistakes I had made with the love of my life. You listened so patiently and while you could offer no personal advice, were always quick to tell me to follow my own heart, but to never take those matters lightly.

Among the things I already missed about you, I will miss receiving your emails describing all the wonderful things you are experiencing, the SANAE newsletters and your fantastic pictures. I'm going to miss having you pop online to chat with me at 3 in the morning, asking me about the snow in Canada -- it always made me wonder why you cared about our snow when you saw so much of it. I know now that it was just because you cared. Because you had such a wonderfully infectious child-like curiousity about the world around you.


I'm never going to forget the day I found out that this planet had lost one of the best souls I've ever met in my life. It's been almost a week since that day, and still I'm shocked.


More than anything, Mr. Jamneck, I am never going to forget my crazy, wonderful South African friend.

Totsiens.