We are in the waiting area ready to board the plane bound for Moscow. My one and a half year old is the happiest ever as he gets to see lots of planes through the massive windows of the terminal building. Every time the plane is towed to or from the gate he exclaims with the highly noted "eeee".
On the seats next to us is a family - a mother with three kids. The boy must be about six, and a little girl about two and a half immediately starts flirting with my son. The third one is a girl in her teenage years. It's hard to determine her age - anything between twelve and sixteen.
They hardly say a word to each other and when the staff announce boarding for business class and passengers with young children, they stood up, and yet again without a single word said, they collected their belongings, put the little girl in the pushchair and moved towards the gate. They act in a way as if try fly every day - so well-coordinated their moves are.
And then I pay attention to the teenage girl. She is dressed in some randomly selected clothes: short velvet skirt with two back pockets with royal crowns embroidered on each, black material tights, bright coloured stripped socks and seriously-worn-out shoes. I start thinking that here she is flying to Russia and she has no escape from meeting her age-group teenagers. The fashion awareness of the Russian girls never cease to amaze.
It brings back the memories from my childhood when at age of ten I was sent to a summer camp where the kids of the families working in the commercial fleet stayed. One would guess that I was the worst dressed girl among the take of 350 children.
At the gate I learn that the girl's name is Maria. And as we are making our way to the aircraft I loose the sight of her among the other passengers. I wish her do well in life.
vasha Tasha
