In memoriam Alida Allison

Alidinka, my dear friend! In the past fifteen years we kept saying that we must meet soon, and now it is too late.

We first met all those many years ago in San Diego when I was there for the IRSCL board meeting. Then I came to San Diego again on a weird grant: go anywhere you want and teach. Colleagues were not at all upset when I offered to teach their classes for them. I stayed with Alida during one of my two visits, and at that time I was looking for somewhere to go on my large three-year research grant. Alida took me to talk to her department head, and that's how I ended up in San Diego for two years.

Alida was a wonderful colleague and friend, always full of ideas. Every Tuesday after work we went bowling. Every first Sunday of the month we went out for dim sum. She took us to Coronado which at that time was still open for sumptuous brunches. She took us to Jewish delis.

Once she took me to a conference in Los Angeles. We shared a motel room. In the morning, I saw her sleeping on the floor in the bathroom, cuddled in her duvet. What's happened, Alidinka? “You snore”.

Alidinka was my special name for her, a Russian diminutive, just as she always called me Mashele.

In 2001 we were both invited to China, which was in tough competition the weirdest trip I ever made. We were invited by a provincial publisher who had just started a series of translated children's novels by Andersen Medal winners. At the launch, they wanted Alida to speak about American winners and me about Swedish winners. We decided to take a couple of extra days in Beijing, and the publisher arranged for us to stay at their province's residence which turned out to be a dilapidated palace in the middle of a slum, just around the corner from the Forbidden City. After several attempts we managed to shake off our hosts and explored the city on our own. Alida had a small travel grant which enabled us to take a taxi whenever we were too exhausted by heat and pollution. Alida spoke Cantonese, which wasn't very helpful, but we quickly became friends with people in the slums from whom we bought suspicious food. We met my Chinese translator, and we gave talks at two universities where professors spoke no English, but students did. We ordered pretty clothes in a fabric store, to be custom-tailored by the time we were to leave. All on Alida's grant.

After some days of freedom in the slums, we were moved to a posh international hotel where a bottle of water cost ten times as much as in the slum shops. We met more exciting people.

After the conference, we didn't have time to go to Shanghai, like the other delegates, but we went to Chengde (not to be confused with Chengdu), what we thought was a small town, but turned out to be a three-million city. We were dispatched on a train with a special carriage for foreigners that we had all to ourselves. We also had to stay at a fancy hotel for foreigners, and still Alida's grant covered it. We explored the gardens. We went to the twelve temples. It wasn't possible for our hosts in Beijing to arrange return travel so we had to go to the railway station in Chengde. Nobody spoke English. Alida's Chinese was inadequate. We ended up on a slow train – seven hours rather than two – crammed with locals many of whom had probably never seen long-noses before. Everybody on the train came to stare at us, and many offered us dumplings and fruit. Alida was uncomfortable; I was amused.

Soon after, we left California, and if I am not mistaken that was the last time I saw Alida, although I returned to San Diego on several occasions. We stayed in touch via social media. I know she went back to China again and again, maintaining strong ties with all friends we had made. I know she was hugely appreciated.

And all the time we were saying: We must meet soon.

I miss you.