Vetralia pewex tuscus - Polish businesses in an Italian town

In the film, you may notice two local business signboards: Pewex and Tuscus. They definitely sound Polish . But the two names have completely different explanations. Pewex really is Polish. The Italian supermarket chain was founded in Rome by the Cetorelli family in 1987, but its owners openly admit that they borrowed the name from the famous Polish communist-era Pewex shops. They were fascinated by the idea of stores where foreign goods—from caviar to cars—could be bought with dollars. They even adapted the old Polish butterfly logo for their Italian brand. So the resemblance is entirely intentional, although today’s Pewex is an independent Italian supermarket chain with no organisational connection to the former Polish enterprise. The founders explain the Polish origin here. The original Polish name was an abbreviation of Przedsiębiorstwo Eksportu Wewnętrznego—literally, the “Internal Export Enterprise.” These were special shops where people bought otherwise unobtainable goods using foreign currency or Pekao vouchers. Tuscus, however, is not Polish. It is Latin: tuscus means Tuscan or Etruscan. The Frantoio Tuscus in Vetralla is an olive mill, and its name refers to Tuscia, the historical land of the Etruscans surrounding Viterbo. The mill stands on the Via Cassia below Vetralla’s medieval walls and produces local extra-virgin olive oil. Frantoio Tuscus describes its Vetralla location here. So in Vetralla you encountered a wonderful coincidence: Pewex — genuinely borrowed from communist Poland. Tuscus — ancient Latin and Etruscan, connected with Tuscia. And because Polish has accustomed us to words ending in -us, -eks and hard consonant clusters, both names look strangely at home to a Polish traveller—even though only one of them actually comes from Poland. Tuscus is certainly not paying homage to Donald Tusk. 😄 Tuscus is an ancient Latin word meaning “Etruscan” or “of Tuscia.” The olive mill’s name refers to the historic region around Vetralla and Viterbo. It predates Donald Tusk’s political prominence and has no connection with his surname. The amusing similarity works especially well for a Pole: Tuscus sounds like a mock-Latin form of Tusk—almost Donaldus Tuscus, “Donald the Etruscan.” But that is purely an accidental linguistic joke.