the rule of etiquette

so today I caught the bus, yes folks, it happens. And during this 20min or so ride where my knees were jammed up the seat in front of mine so tight I feared my patella would fracture, I had a nice good look at the world in Malta and realized two things. We as Maltese are not quit blessed in the art of style, or social awareness. Regarding the first I shall not comment much as some people already consider me vain and superficial enough as it is, so I shall leave that for a further post, but heres a little comedy for now -LINK-.

Back to social awareness; it seems that although we are some 400K of us earthlings inhabiting this rock in the med, some still manage somehow to live life as though they are the singular most important thing around. Case in point: on a main thoroughfare which is rather narrow and has signs all along it indicating that no car should stop, there are examples  of these amazingly intelligent persons who stop their car (if you are lucky you might get the blinkers on) and just hop into a store for 5-10minutes to bring out the "pastizzi" for their local band club, or to just pop in to say "hi" to Jesobel behind the counter. This in turn leaves the bus and a string of four or five cars backed up wondering what in the name of foam is causing their hold up. Also some bright spark with a suped-up Ford Escort will swing into action and attempt, not just to overtake one car, but the entire row - on a bend...because he is a hero of course, but alas finds some one else in the opposite lane, driving perfectly within their legal rights. This would ensue to a range of very colorful language, from the Escort driver, Driver in proper lane, Bus driver, Crazy passenger at the back of the bus, and of course the driver of the blinking car who comes out "rushed" and says something that is meant to make us all feel better.

Another situation which is very typical of a Mediterranean country is the slow walk. When your bus arrives late due to causes such as that aforementioned, one would need to make up in lost time and rush on foot to where ever they may need to go. This is the perfect time to encounter the slow walking locals. These are generally a string of women, who walk side by side slowly enough to make you want to skip them, but fast enough for you to have to make it obvious with a small jog. They speak loudly and gesture to one another about some piece-o-crap spandex pink mother-wearing tank top they bought which needs another flammable-elastic-waisted-synthetic white bottom piece to go with it. All the time either chewing some 4hour old piece of gum, smoking a cigarette without the use of hands, clapping their anti-style anti-orthopedic footwear and re-arranging their love handle enhancing leggings. The only way to skip these obstacles is to excuse yourself (because you are taking up that extra piece of walk way to pass) and only use the one word they respond to, "sorry" (pronounced as: sori!). Any other phrase, such as "excuse me" or "pardon me" or "skuzani" will just be ignored.

I wonder, if people sometimes took just one extra minute to realize some fine details, such as, stopping around the corner from a shop that you want to get to so that you can park better or at least not block a main road. Or walking in pairs as opposed to a human barricade, or speaking in a tone by which only those interested would hear, or stopping to have a chat with someone not right outside the only entrance into a shop, but MAYBE a little to the side. These little things, even though completely minuscule and not life altering, can create a much smother flowing society. Where manners and politeness are rule, and therefore social etiquette is maintained and all of a sudden, we become civil. So that even when one is in a bad mood or in a hurry, services still get offered, people still get to where they need to be and we can all move on with this journey we call a life.

maybe.