Permesso! Scusate!

Basically you only need two words to be able to get on and off the bus: Permesso and scusate both of which mean “please move but I’m going to push you anyway just to make sure you get out of my way.” I love sitting (rather, standing since it’s usually really crowded) and watching what the Italians do when they need to get on or off the bus.

First, to make sure the bus actually stops you have to run out into the middle of the street essentially so that the bus can’t ignore you and they are forced to stop. Merely standing at the bus stop, as we would do at any bus stop in the states, will not do the trick. Once you’re on the bus you have to push yourself through a forest of people and I usually try to find a spot in a corner 1. So I don’t get pick-pocketed and 2. So that I can people watch and I don’t miss out on the interesting people behind me.

Today, for example, I watched a group of nuns try to figure out where their other nun friends were. It’s hard for me to get used to seeing nuns everywhere. I find myself staring just because it’s usually only something I see in the movies but I’m sure that fascination will fade quickly. I also watched a German couple try to ask for directions from the bus driver. Essentially the bus driver ignored them because either he didn’t speak German (which is probably most likely) or he doesn’t talk to people who don’t at least try to speak Italian. I also watched a man with a baby in a stroller get on and off the bus. That was quite an ordeal. The bus was already packed by the time he got on so he scusate’d down the bus pushing his baby. He didn’t have anywhere to go but the baby looked like he enjoyed people moving out of his way.

I get a lot of strange looks from people since I’m with a group of Americans usually. Especially when I’m alone on the bus I can see people eyeing me. I am pretty sure they are trying to figure out where I’m from. They get confused because I speak Italian but look American. I enjoy watching their confusion.

Yesterday though the bus doors closed on my face. I imagine this is a common occurrence since it happened to my friend Marilyn when she came to Rome with us a few years ago. It was embarrassing nonetheless and everyone I was with got a good kick out of it. I just have to remember to use my words and push people out of my way when I need to get off the bus. None of this timid American business for me! When I step on the bus from now on I will become Maria Elena, the aggressive, Italian bus rider.