From a bus somewhere in India.
To sit on a plane, or two, for about twenty hours, losing all track of time, all the feeling in my feet and most of what’s left in my mind, then get spat out onto the tarmac of an airport halfway around the globe is both familiar and foreign. The tarmac looks like the ones at home, the planes are pretty much the same, the airport looks familiar, but really isn’t, and that’s where things begin to unravel.
This is different. It’s time to start paying attention.
And so I do. To everything, and that includes the signage. I love the way things get translated here. I always wonder too, if there are so many westerners, American and British especially, why can’t they ask one of us if the sign reads correctly? It’s for our benefit after all. But that would detract from the charm that is India.
This is just one of the signs that elicited a giggle from me. Another that I could not capture as we were moving, was an ad for “innerwear” or as we may know it, underwear.