Beginning of August, towards noon, at the International Airport in Zurich, two queues stood in front of their gates waiting to be boarded. They formed slowly as queues in airports usually do. First, one or two people stop in front of the desk and there stand for centuries; then, as the due time approaches, small groups join them, still not so convinced but impatient to leave and finally the mass of people rushes as the announcement starts. Passengers in late, lost in cafes, toilets or just somewhere in the airport space, reach the gate running with all their fluttering bags, received with smiles and quick checks.
At the terminal for departures to non-European countries, due to casual delays, two queues crossed each other.
African women had braids, zig zag braids, invisible braids and micro braids, tighten in bulky skeins or free to sway on their hips. Eccentric hairclips or hair bands of glittering plastic resumed in harmony or contrast the colour of their hair: burgundies, bronzes, copper or violet and blonde for the bold ones. Colour coordination involved nail polish, blouses and acrobatic sandals. Big earrings were the obvious choice for women with natural generous forms, large hips and imposing breasts squeezed in tiny dresses. Baby boys who had been shaved off and their little sisters, as smiling princesses of a pink kingdom, followed the adults.
At the terminal for departures to non-European countries, due to casual delays, two queues crossed each other.
African women had braids, zig zag braids, invisible braids and micro braids, tighten in bulky skeins or free to sway on their hips. Eccentric hairclips or hair bands of glittering plastic resumed in harmony or contrast the colour of their hair: burgundies, bronzes, copper or violet and blonde for the bold ones. Colour coordination involved nail polish, blouses and acrobatic sandals. Big earrings were the obvious choice for women with natural generous forms, large hips and imposing breasts squeezed in tiny dresses. Baby boys who had been shaved off and their little sisters, as smiling princesses of a pink kingdom, followed the adults.
At the opposite gate, people waited for information about their flight to India. Women had plaited their long, dark hair in simple, thick braids. Old women wore sari and their steps were accompanied by the discrete sound of bangles and anklets. They seemed even more petty and thin next to their husbands, slender and tall men, with coloured turbans and dark beards. Younger women had traditional dresses but shorter hair. A vaporous mass where you could glimpse long and precious earrings as they grabbed, with delicate hands, bags, computers, mobile phones and children.
They were going back home to meet relatives, families and friends or after having met their daughters and sons, brothers and sisters that live in Europe.
I was leaving home boarding for India.
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