Yesterday has been far darker, deeper and more painful that I would have thought. Not only has the Month of Mourning begun for me, but also a plane has disappeared over the Atlantic Ocean. No, naturally, I don't give a dime about such things normally. I mean, there are refugee women living in constant fear of sexual violence in Darfur and Zimbabwe, and that's worse that some plane in the ocean. Worse is war, children being killed by their parents and relatives, kids killed in the streets and their killers getting away with it. The crisis that has deveiled the capitalism cruelest face, where it is blatant how those who have more are willing to send to starvation and misery thousands of families so they can keep their private jets, and toasting with $3000 cocktails. So yeah, compared to that some plane going Houdini shouldn't mean a dime.
The flight is the AF 447, from Air France. Departing from Sao Paulo (or was it Rio de Janeiro?) to Paris. 11 French crew members. I happen to know a crew member, which I have met in a flight pretty much in the same direction. Now I'm worried. I understand they are not tied to a single flight, so someone who does "Caracas-Paris-Caracas" will not spend the rest of his working days on that one flight, and then some work quite a hard shift doing Johannesbourg-Paris-Caracas. The Lord knows I know. So, maybe, and there are many chances (I hope) that this one crew member I know either decided to move permanently to the South of France and live there happily, flying no more, or maybe he's still flying, only he's on some other flight, but there's also a chance that he was on that plane. Passanger and Crew lists have not been released yet, but Air Frace opened a line for family and close friends. I'd love to call, I really do, but how could I do it? I don't know his last name, I don't know his exact address or his full birthday date.
So I scrapped all the info I could. The two pursers are older than he. That gives me a bit of ease, he told me he was a cabin officer, a purser, so hopefully he's somewhere else. I can only hope, can I?
I don't know enough of him to be able to research, but yet I know too much for me to know the odds, for me to care, and for me to worry. Hell, all I need is another death in June.