No speaka the language

There are a few benefits to not speaking the local language.

One is sweet oblivion, a sort of ignorance is bliss. There is a calmness that comes from not knowing when people are making fun of you, especially when you know they should be. Or when men are saying things about you that you would just rather not hear. Then, if you chose, you can assume most people mean well, unless proven otherwise through vibe or action. (It is safer than it sounds)

Silence is another perk. It keeps your mouth shut and thoughts inward, alternation of meditation and progressive obsession that works out deep seated worries, fears and problems.

There are drawbacks too, of course, like, well, not understanding what people are saying to you... and the consequences of such situations. Like paying for a first class bus ticket and ending up on a second class bus with no AC. Which I suspect is what has happened here, as I write from my bumpy, very warm seat. At least there is plenty of room, the scenery is lovely and I can smell everything, which keeps it real.

And at least I am going to the right town... I think.