Matt Schiavenza

When I was in high school, our kindly headmaster used to speak often of our ‘community’; that was, the students, faculty, staff, and others for whom our school was a daily part of life.

My friends and I used to cynically poke fun at him for saying it; at that point in our lives we yearned to break free and make our own mark; not be bound by any community, real or imagined.

Yet through the last week in Kunming I’ve been twice reminded that while living abroad the concept of a community is real and vital indeed.

Earlier this week I learned that Jason Stefanuik, or ‘Jay Stef’ as he billed himself, was killed last month in an auto accident in Philadelphia. He was 33.

I knew Jay only slightly, but memorably. Long ago, Jay hired me to interview Kunming’s beloved punk band Smegmariot for a now-defunct website he had launched called netkunming.net. The interview was one of the first pieces I ever wrote for anyone and I can still remember the satisfaction I felt seeing my name on Jay’s site.

Netkunming.net also included a section called ‘Out in Kunming’, in which Jay- who was openly gay- and others provided content detailing gay life in China. I remember thinking that it was extraordinary at the time, and I still do.

Jay was so soft-spoken you often had to lean in close to hear what he had to say. I’ll remember him as a kind soul, one who left us all far too soon.

While we were still mourning Jay more shocking news arrived yesterday. Arun Veembeer, another long-term resident of Kunming, was killed  after a fall while hiking in Dali. A native of India, Arun was 28- exactly my age.

Arun worked for the Hump Group, a company named after the ‘hump’ in the Himalayas so integral to supplying Allied and Chinese troops during World War II. From reading his obituary I learned that Arun himself had traveled along the Stilwell Road, a remarkable feat considering the topographical and political challenges that lay therein.

What I will remember most about Arun is his sense of humor- at least once every time I saw him he would say something so original and funny that I’d collapse into laughter. His dexterity with the English language stood out; it is no surprise to me that he was a writer.

Both Jay and Arun were among the broad tapestry of people who had chosen, for one reason or another, to base themselves in this sleepy regional capital of southwest China. I didn’t know them well enough to say, but I would bet that when the two of them were in high school- schools on opposite sides of the globe- they could never have imagined that they’d have ended up spending a chunk of their lives ‘south of the clouds’.

And yet while their time with us was brief, they touched many lives- many more than I’m sure even they could have even imagined.

Rest in peace.