Of Mankind's Sense of Humanity: The Malaysia Airlines Flight 17 Tragedy

It's been so long since I was off on a Thursday. I don't remember anymore if I ever was off on the day before my weekly two-day off in my year and a half with Air France. Regardless, I would have spent a lazy Thursday, Pacific Time, lounging around the house, planning my husband's birthday the next day and mine the day after, exercising at the complex gym and carefully prepping strictly portion-controlled meals. Instead, at 9 am, my planned day changed, but not as dramatic and as completely as those on Malaysia Airlines Flight 17 (MH 17).

SOULS

Anyone applying for a security badge at the San Francisco International Airport (SFO), and probably, at any international airports, at least in the USA, would notice that emergency training manuals do not classify or describe victims of flight-related tragedies as "passengers". A fellow Air France passenger service agent of mine pointed out how eerie that they are instead called "souls".

I'd say it couldn't be merely reduced to "eerie". They are called "souls" because they have so much more value in them than the mere shell we call "body".

It was first reported that there were 295 souls who were onboard MH 17; that all of these perished in what is now being called an "act of terror". The number was later amended to include three more to the list.

Two hundred ninety-eight souls. This means that minus the 15 crew members onboard, the flight on that doomed Boeing 777-200 was full at possibly between 96 to 100% capacity.

INVOLVED

The word "involved" could mean different things. It could mean one is in a relationship with another. It could mean one is affected over things.

I am a combination of the two definitions.

The sheer immensity of the number is more than enough reason for anyone who knows the value of a single life hold their loved ones close.

The intense suddenness of the way these people died is more than enough reason for anyone to acknowledge the value of safety and security at any given place, at any given time.

And I, being not just a ground crew for an international airline that used the same route prior to the tragedy, but also a human being who flies on commercial planes and sees loved ones off in airports, am struck to the core.

DISBELIEF

Like what another colleague and I agreed about, the fact that we interact with passengers on the flights for which we provide service almost everyday of our lives is enough for us to sincerely wish them a safe flight. And yes, this includes even those who treat us with disrespect due to overweight carry-ons.

Those working in the aviations/airline industry know that tragedies like this know no race, religious or political beliefs, even attitudes or personalities. The victims could be anyone's mother, father, daughter, son, friend, co-worker, enemy, wife or husband. It could be any politician (such as the late Georgia Congressman McDonald when the Korean Airlines plane he was on was shot down near Russia in 1983) or any celebrity (singer Aaliyah died in a plane crash in The Bahamas in 2001). It could be anyone.

Which is perhaps the reason why the emotional Cancerian in me perhaps became too involved in (an ongoing) heated discussion on CNN's Facebook page over the avoidance of blaming the unnecessary (read: US politics) and instead praying for the victims.

Said discussion was due to a post of CNN over President Obama's declaration of the US offering any assistance "to help determine what happened and why". Comments about how he is the reason why this happened appeared left and right. Such prompted me to ignore my plan of food prepping and going to the gym and to sit for long hours in the couch responding to borderline irrational comments I received when I said:

"295 people dead, possibly several US citizens on board and all some people could think is how Obama is terrible for the US! really?! Take your opinions somewhere else. Least you could do is pray for those who died."


Over 300 likes and 46 clashing replies to my post. Those were really not the numbers that, as of this writing, I was looking forward to seeing each time my phone pings me with a new reply to my post as I know it's absolutely unbelievable how some people choose to constantly insert their hate-filled political ideologies nevermind that this very trash-talking is the last thing on the mind of those who lost loved ones.

I mean, the question is simple: When someone, be it a loved one, a co-worker or a stranger with whom you had just made a striking interaction, has just died regardless of the circumstance of death, are talks about politics the first thing you would want to hear?

MOVING FORWARD

Two hours into the whole world knowing about what happened to MH 17, I was actually in bed, crying. Beside me was a half empty bag of Sweet Potato Pop Chips (delays, cancellations and any airline-related problems DO make me stress eat). I was like, screw the calorie counting and my plan to exercise. I'm grieving.

So much for moving forward, huh. But seriously, and not to justify my stress eating, it must be a general rule that before it is mercifully possible to say "move forward" or "move on", one should be allowed a time to grieve. A time to mourn. A time to shut up and not say anything. A time to allow the person to assess the huge value of what he or she will eventually unload.

In the eyes of each person who approaches me at the check-in lobby, I see our Dutch KLM passengers who, perhaps, God forbid, knows someone in the doomed Malaysia Airlines flight. I see a 65-year old mother who has just been operated on her knees, unable to walk far distances and patiently waiting for a wheelchair that might just take 30 to 40 minutes to arrive. I see a 50-year old dad who doesn't care about a VIP welcoming committee upon his arrival in Paris  -  he just wants to see his 10-year old daughter so they are able to board together on his next flight. I see a humble heiress to a big fortune who gives away her seat so her grandmother would be more comfortable. I see a couple excited to celebrate their wedding anniversary. I see newlyweds moving to a different country. I see a pretty model who cheerfully talks about her fashion style. I see a businessman carrying a gift for his son and his wife in his carry-on. I see a wife, accompanying her traveling husband to the check-in counter. I see an unaccompanied minor. I see a newborn baby. I see a playful Golden Retriever. I see a purring observant cat.

I see myself, taking as much time as possible with my fiance before finally going to the security area.

I see myself, anxiously waiting for boarding, reluctantly leaving the country so abruptly that my husband couldn't file a leave to accompany me because my dad was suddenly very sick.

I see my husband with his small check-in bag and his small carry-on, the combined weights of which are equivalent to one big check-in bag of mine.

The thought of him going home after taking me to the airport, the thought of me starting my shift after seeing him off at his boarding gate, the thought of granting the warmest of my well wishes to understanding and empathetic passengers who could see the look of distress on my face after handling a challenging customer, the thought of unexpectedly receiving commendation and appreciation from a VIP for the service my colleagues and I provide, AND THEN TRAGEDY STRIKES  -  these are more than enough for me to wish and hope that even if we don't know anyone who perished on MH 17, we'd take time to pause and place ourselves in their position before we say or do anything that might further add insult to injury so much so that we might lose our sense of humanity.