El Autobus

Image from www.sydneybusmuseum.com/ shopart.htm

I often think that it’s about time I got my driver’s license. Get myself a zippy little car and not be tied to the constraints of Sydney’s over-priced and archaic public transport system.  But that one hour (or so) each way of public transport commute is the best uninterrupted Me Time I get all day. I read, listen to music, and journal. And sometimes, when the stars are in strange alignments, amazing human interactions occur. Last night heading home from work on the 440 bus down Parramatta Rd, a lady sitting next to me asked in a thick accent how many stops were there until Wynyard Station. The eldery gentleman sitting on the other side of the lady piped up and said it was two or three. He then asked the lady, “¿Tu hablas Españoll?” (do you speak Spanish?). She laughed and said yes. Excited at the prospect of practising my Spanish, I said, “Yo hablo un pocito Español!” (I speak a little Spanish). It turned out that the rather adorable elderly gentleman was Italian, and he was a fluent speaker in Italian, Spanish, and English. The lady was Brazilian, and she was a fluent speaker in Portuguese, Spanish, and English. For the next 10 minutes we had ourselves a conversation in a mixture of Spanish, Italian, and English! It lifted my heart and soul to think of how the three of us had come to be in this conversation. Three people of entirely different ages and backgrounds traveling together down the road getting from A to B. Sure every bus trip isn’t filled with such magic, but how wonderful that there is the chance that it could occur. I’m sure I’ll get my license eventually. But in the meantime, I’ll enjoy the me time, and occasional surprising magic, of catching the bus.