In one of life’s many
ironic coincidental twists, I seem to be following the tragedy of Malaysian
Airlines. I remember the uneasy shiver that overcame me when arriving in Bali a
few months back, and reading my mom’s concerned email. I had been on a
Malaysian Airlines flight via Kuala Lumpur, the very same day when MH 370
disappeared shortly after its departure from KL – without a trace, as we all
found out over the coming weeks.
Today, I am travelling
from Basel to Amsterdam, reading through 3 pages of newspaper articles on the
passenger plane that was shot down over eastern Ukraine. The plane, again a Malaysian
Airlines flight, took off from Schiphol less than 48 hours before my landing
there. As I arrive, the airport is busy, burstling with people, I glance at
watches, whiskey and whatnot in the duty free shopping area. Everything is
business as usual. Of course – what else would you expect.
The newspaper also
featured a paragraph on the future of the airline. A small photograph showed the
MH director, who had offered to step down after the MH 370 disappearance, but
then stayed on, because no one else wanted to deal with the messy situation.
He, and his 19,000 employees, now get a 2nd chance at losing their
jobs, along with the lost reputation of their airline. Ironic. Almost cynical.
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