I was on a bus in Rome when a group of young women factory workers got onto the bus.

I was the only non-Italian. There were several elderly people and a variety of other ages already seated. Everyone had enough room, but the factory workers made things just slightly more crowded as they stood in the middle of the bus.

One woman was bopping her head to music only she could hear. She touched to shoulder of one of the others while doing this.

Then the first woman began to sing slowly at first in time to the head bopping, and the second woman joined her. Their voices were glorious, full, and the song filled the bus. The other women joined in. By now they sounded like a well-rehearsed choir.

Other people on the bus clearly knew the song and began singing quietly. Older people and the elderly were bopping their heads, canes waving just a bit in time with the song. People were dancing a bit with the space available to them.

It was dazzling to be right there when this happened. Such beautiful voices filling the available space after work on a hot day.

The women and the other passengers behaved as though this was an everyday event, but I will never see it that way.

I wanted to be one of them so much.