In Memoriam

A blank laptop screen blinks back at me as I flounder for words. A friend, former colleague and travel buddy of mine has died. The matter of fact nature of that word makes it no easier to comprehend.

Jon was an unlikely travel buddy. Four months into being colleagues who mumble pre-coffee hellos in the corridor, we made the rash decision to do a five-week trek to Thailand together. The conversation went as far as me saying: ‘Hey want to go to Thailand?’ and Jon replying: ‘Sure. Want to book it now?’

We knew very little about each other but before we knew it, we were zipping through Bangkok in tuk-tuks, rearranging items in the Princess Caves (dubbed ‘Penis Cave’ for all the wooden phalluses that fishermen left as offerings) and diving with the fishes in Koh Tao. His idea of fun was all-night dancing, drinking, dishing with new friends and crawling into bed at the crack of dawn. Mine was more muted—massages, beer and beautiful sunsets.

And still it worked. He held my puke bag on a speedboat ride to Phi Phi; we danced with the Lady Boys to ABBA; we smirked as we were offered a free upgrade to the honeymoon suite at a hilltop resort in Koh Samui; our friendship survived a full moon party that we vowed never to speak of again.

When I left Hornsey nearly two years ago, I quipped that we’d always have Thailand--travel bonds people in an inexplicable way. We kept in touch the way people do these days, via social media, and I saw Jon at Christmas. We complained the same complaints that teachers do: workload, marking, ridiculous expectations; only now I get the impression he was only scratching the surface. We gave each other a big farewell hug as he vowed to come visit me in China ‘very soon!’ 

As the news spreads this week, the ripple widens. Friends, other travel buddies, colleagues, students, come out of the woodwork. Some post trite comments on Facebook. Some post trite comments on blogs. I guess we’re all trying to comprehend his pain and make amends for our inability to do so soon enough.

The right words do not exist, they cannot.

Jon, we're left with the memories of better times. We miss you. Rest in peace, my friend.