I recall a couple of years ago when I was on a number eight tram travelling along Toorak Road. One of our neighbours was on the tram. She had not noticed me on the tram and I was not inclined to engage with her. I was thinking that I knew rather a lot about her. Of course I know where she lives, I know about her family, in fact I know many things about her, including that she is not poorl. Yet in this tram of anonymous people, she is just one more. No one on the tram would take any notice of her yet I knew so much about her. She is a real person with a life.
On the number eight tram today, I was watching a black woman of African heritage. I would guess they were her sons with her, about 9 and 12. She was quite dark, nicely made up, dressed in almost a dress suit of a light soft fabric, wearing heels. She was not over the top good looking but not unattractive. The sons were dressed nicely enough and in a modern style. She looked for all the world like she had been to St John's church in Toorak, except that was not where she got on the tram. She boarded the tram in Toorak Village and got off at Chapel Street. Her sons skylarked a bit with each other after leaving the tram and she must have told them to settle down.
The thought came to my head was that she was African diplomat's wife. But why would she travel on tram when she would have a chauffeured vehicle? It was fairly clear she was a person used to having a decent amount of money for spending. Her clothes and carriage told me that much.
I don't expect this is of much interest to anyone, but I wonder what that woman's story was?