I Miss Sandwiches.

I miss driving.  I miss clean water coming out of every faucet.  I miss reliable hot showers.  I miss being able to go places without telling someone and without a chaperone.  I miss having a variety of different foods instead of eating two essentially identical meals two times a day every day (every time it’s delicious, but holy goodness what I would do for a piece of pizza or a caesar salad for a break in the monotony.  It’s dal, dal and more dal up in herrrr.)  I miss having the ability to talk to anyone that I run into.   I miss my bedroom.  I miss my books.  I miss my television shows.  I miss being able to blend in in a sea of different colored faces instead of sticking out as one of the three whiteys in the country.

That said, I really like it here.

I love riding the buses, because every single time I imagine that I’m Harry Potter riding the Knight bus.  They stop on a dime and swerve around obstacles and people like you wouldn’t believe.  Every ride that I take I’m always convinced that we’re going to hit something, someone, but I’ve yet to see that happen.  I swear, it’s a muggle knight bus.

I love the architecture.  There’s a fusion of British and Indian architecture almost everywhere you look and it’s so beautiful, even when it’s falling apart.  I recognize that I would hate to live in the very buildings I inwardly swoon over, but the appearance of urban decay around here is phenomenal.  Also those that are well taken care of are gorgeous.

I love riding the trains and trying to be like the teenage Indian boys who only keep one foot in the train and one hand on a handle in the train and then let the rest of their body hang out the side.

I love the heat.

I love the music.

I love that men wear pink and purple because they like the colors with no thoughts whatsoever about the “connotations” such colors might have.

And most of all:  I love religion here.  I don’t care whose it is, it’s colorful, it’s loud and it’s proud.  Many Hindus will have parades down the street to celebrate their god on a certain day, and the Muslim call to prayer is beautiful and haunting.  No matter what religion someone adheres to here it is 100% theirs and they are more proud of it than anyone I’ve ever met stateside.  One of the Indian girls in our group answers her phone, “Hello, praise the Lord.”  I love it.

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