I had to go to Montichiari yesterday to pick up the keys for our new house. Our landlady doesn't speak a lick of English, but I had to call her to make sure it was alright for me to come today. I envisioned making the trip, only to wait outside an empty house all day. We have to move most of our stuff in on Thursday. This week will be busy, so I knew yesterday was really the only chance I would have. My stomach was in knots over the thought of speaking Italian over the phone. I tried it the night before for something else and that was an epic fail. Finally, I realized I just had to suck it up and call her. Praise God that, amid the confusion, I was at least able to establish that is was okay for me to come over today.
Now on to my next challenge of the day: taking a bus. I've ridden an orange (city) bus a couple of times and have started to understand the system. However, I had to take one of the blue buses that go to different cities in the province of Brescia. For days I had scoured their website, trying to make sense of the different schedules and the cryptic pricing guide. Google Translate was invaluable throughout this process, by the way. Finally, I thought I had figured out enough to board the big blue bus.
I did get on the correct bus, but when I asked how much it cost, he rattled off something in Italian and closed the door behind me. I wasn't sure what was going on, so I just sat in the front seat and waited for something to happen that would make sense. Before we made it out of Desenzano, another guy got on and didn't pay either. He sat right behind the driver and the two of them talked the whole time. It may as well have been Chinese. I tried to eavesdrop but ended up just tuning them out and soaking in the Italian countryside and villages, including the John Deere tractor that stayed in front of us for most of the trip.
After the other guy got off the bus (there were only a few people), I asked the driver about the bus stop I needed to go to and the payment. Thankfully, his last stop of the day happened to be across the street from our neighborhood, and the ride turned out to be free. I think it was because he started in Montichiari and was just coming back. I plan on taking the same bus on Friday so we'll see if my theory is correct.
Thankfully, I knew where I was and walked to the landlady's house. She was out gardening and showed me into her house, which was amazing. She did most of the talking. I nodded my head and said "si" when I understood the gist of what she was saying. Sometimes I did it even if I had no clue, but was tired of saying "Non capisco" (I don't understand). She is a really nice lady. Stereotypical older Italian lady: full of excitement and still dresses from another era.
With a lanyard full of keys (the landlady didn't even know which ones they all were), I headed to another bus stop that would take me back to Desenzano in 10 minutes. I did have to pay for this one (only a couple of euros) and the bus driver was not nearly as nice, but I was just glad to sit back and know that I had achieved my goals for the day.
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