Blog Challenge No. 7

My housemate challenged me to do eight blogs about observations of people and things while I was out and about. She gave me four weeks, but I will beat her timetable.

The bus filled at Collonge and an old and young man got on. The grandson made sure his grandfather was comfortable next to me as he went to get the old man a ticket.

How did I know the relationship?

I eavesdropped, although it is impossible not to in such close quarters.
The grandfather, still with a full head of hair, was fumbling with a clear plastic folder closed on three sides, the kind that has holes to fasten in a notebook. His grandson held his passport and helped him fill in a small yellow form once he found it.

At Versanez, the bus discharged about half its passengers. I offered to change to another place so the grandson could sit with his grandfather. He smiled and said it wasn’t necessary “Mais merci beaucoup.”

For the first time I looked at the younger man. He was balding but had his head almost shaved alà Pascal Obsipo. He wore jeans, a black leather jacket and if he had been frowning he would have not been out of place with a New York Street gang. I could almost hear the beat of the music of the opposing gangs in West Side Story. His jacket was partially open and I could see the words fight and kill peeking out between the sides.

What the hell, I thought, I want to know what it says. I asked and he opened his jacket so I could read the whole thing.

“Fight Errorism
Ignorance Kills”

“It’s an English play on words,” he said in English.

Then we reverted to French. For the rest of the ride to Rive, we discussed that fear without facts was responsible for many of the ills of the world, my daughter’s bumper sticker, “If you think education is expensive, try ignorance,” and how sad it was that his sweatshirt was smarter than many people.