My Polish American Indian brother… We were both in our first mission in Herat. First missions in the ICRC always have something special and Herat is a very special place with special people. We shared a lot of time inside that little oasis of peace and we achieved to form a little family to help us keeping the optimism, the positive feelings, the energy needed in an environment sometimes very hard like Afghanistan can be… The ambiance that we have been able to create all together had something special… We would be able to support each other frankly, sharing our true feelings, deep thoughts, concerns, professional achievements and deceptions mixed with moments of laughter, music, jokes and the highest level of silliness… We played many billiard games, had some excursion to the mountains, play music (Marek would be on the bongos, me at the guitar and our young interpreter on his Afghan instruments), go for sunset on the hill dominating the city with Shisha and tea… Shared Wathab projects, always carried with a high ICRC spirit… It comes to my memory an evening during which a misunderstanding brought up to have a discussion at the dinner table till I left on my nerves going back to the room… Less than half an hour later, my Indian brother was there knocking on my door, sitting beside me and apologizing. And me apologizing back ending it all in a sincere hug saying that family should not keep sorrow and be upset and how stupid we were… Family, a strong concept we shared all the time. Many things can happen in life, but family keeps being the more important point. I am listening to Pink Floyd now, some songs we would listen to together during that time and hope these words will help to light a smile of the persons he loved the most who are very lucky to have such a cool, deep and bright angel over their shoulders. In life, there are so many things we cannot explain and once we accept this, we can start being happy and transform even the deepest sadness in positive energy. Tonight I am very sad to learn that a father, a husband, a colleague, a good person and for a short while an Indian brother (Polish American Indian and Italian American Indians are brothers, we used to say). The path of life, the more precious gift we receive from love, is long and will show us the rest, as long as we keep the ability to look with the eyes of love; a feeling without age, space and time… My sincere condolences, Umberto (Administrator in Heart during 2003/2004)