‘Beware Fallen Objects’ (and other unique Filipino signs)

There may not be such a thing as anonymous art in the Philippines, but there is anonymous kitsch, and that’s what arrives in my e-mail box every so often in the form of various attachments called “Filipino signs.”

No one can say for certain who started documenting funny Pinoy signs — no doubt it was a foreigner with a digital camera who thought it’d be cute to show the friends back home — but soon, thanks to the Internet, it turned into a cottage industry. Those amateurish shots were sent out to cyberspace, where only the best of kitsch can survive and thrive.

This is the “new batch” making the rounds, which I pass along not as something simply to laugh at, but to savor its homegrown aesthetic qualities. You will note that Filipino signs follow strict criteria: they are usually shot on the fly — on the drive-by, as it were — so a certain blurriness is acceptable. Usually, there’s little clue to the environment surrounding the signage, unless the setting is part of the joke.

Beyond that, anything goes, from handwritten messages (“I WANTED WAITRESS – BRING THE BIODETA”) to government-approved messages that are no less perplexing (“ENTRANCE ONLY : DO NOT ENTER”).

Honestly, you’d have to be Kafka or Jean Paul Sartre to figure out such baffling instructions. Or what about the Orwellian language of this specimen? “NOTICE: OUR PUBLIC BAR IS PRESENTLY NOT OPEN BECAUSE IT IS CLOSED — THE MANAGER.”  Two plus two equals five, indeed.

In the world of funny Filipino signs, attempts at correct spelling are usually the surest way to get a laugh, such as the vendors plying clothes (“SWEET SHIRT P35,” “THRU PILLOWS, 3 FOR P175” and the infamous “JAGGING PANTS”), or the restaurant manager seeking help (“WETRESS WANTED”).  But it takes a certain genius to render dialect with the naturalistic precision of the following handyman: “REPIAR WASHING NACHINE, REPRIGERATOR, ELECTRECT PAN, OBEN TOOSTER & OTHERS.”

For a crash course in how the desire to be understood quickly outstrips language, there’s the “RULES TO BE FOLLOWS” at a certain beach resort. My favorites are Rule 6 (“Stay were you are occupied cottage”) and Rule 7 (“Once you are caught stay other cottage, you should pay another for that cottage”). Geesh, some people have to have everything spelled out for them.

Sometimes, context is important to appreciate funny signs, as in the earnest promise of a “BEAUTY & WELLNESS SPA” (shown decorating a rickety lean-to). Then there’s “SERVICE AND PARTS” hung below the sign reading “Alisbo’s Memorial Chapels.” Hey, everyone has to have a sideline.

And then there’s the arrowed signs reading “COMFORT ROOM” — leading directly into a thicket of tall grass. You gotta love that kind of positive thinking.

Not all Pinoy signs are funny by accident; sometimes it’s all part of the plan, like the barber who names his shop HARRY CUTTER, or the restaurateur who calls his place THIS IS EAT. And not all signs are handwritten; some look like they were punched out in a factory, such as “Dinner Choices: 1) Take it. 2) Leave it,” or the whimsical plea to smokers: “Government Warning! Pls. don’t throw your cigarettes end on the floor. The cockroaches are getting cancer.”

Then there’s the cute little warning that some wag posted on an open toilet bowl: “This Water Is Not Safe For Drinking.”

But some signs are designed simply to make your brain do somersaults. Take “VERTICAL PARKING,” for instance. (Though I’ve noticed many space-challenged parking lots in Makati offer this very service: parked cars are raised on lifts, allowing second vehicles to occupy the space beneath.) “DON’T ENTER YOUR SLIPPER” is another puzzler, though you eventually make out that one is meant to remove one’s footwear.

But surely there are few brain-busters as demanding of the casual sign reader as “BEWARE FALLEN OBJECTS.”  Does this mean that the rocks and debris lying at our feet may decide to whomp us upside the head without warning? Are we to believe that things that have fallen are potentially more dangerous than things that have yet to fall? And how long should we “beware”? Are the “fallen objects” likely to follow us long after we have stopped gazing at the sign? Hmmm…

The sign, photographed through a chain-link fence, seems to play with our expectations of time and physical space. It’s an existential poser disguised as kitsch. Even more chillingly, it is simply signed “THE MANAGEMENT.”

Samuel Beckett would have a field day with that one.