You know you're in India when...

... you're trying to decide between a McCurry Pan Shahi Paneer or a Chicken Maharaja Mac

...you approach a man at a farmer's market, ask him 101 questions about how he buys, sells, at what prices, and terms, and at the end he gives YOU a gift and tells you you have "given him great happiness" (!)

... they actually want you to honk - and boy do they

... you're thrilled to have a solid poo

... children crowd around you, wanting so badly to shake your hand, asking "from what country?" and "school pen?"


... you think - not another camel

... you realize there's a thriving business in sticks (and that child labor is happy labor)

... you order a waffle for breakfast and they bring you a bowl of potato chips (wafers)

... you realize, wow, a salwar kameez is really the perfect outfit (but the pants .... not so much)

... you receive a dinner invitation within 30 seconds of meeting someone

... you appreciate how much you, really and truly, love toilet paper

... you glance out the window during a meeting to see a parade of elephants go by

... you can easily identify Ganesh, Krishna, and Shiva













... clean sheets totally is not a given

... the per capita consumption of wine is less than half a teaspoon (and no wonder, Indian wine I've discovered is undrinkable)
... they sell anything by the side of the road

... there's a different airport check-in procedure every time, involving about 16x the number of people it should


... and just, well, the irony, everywhere, all the time