Oh India.

Its the small things that are causing India to grow on me. Yes, the food is delicious. No matter how much vegetable subji with roti I gorge on, all the intricate flavors and spices, diverse veggies and new ways to prepare them keep it interesting. I never realized that true Indian food is eaten with your hands. It is. The obsession with hand washing prior to meals emphasizes the point, especially as each bathroom tends to hold a surprise - one may have toilet paper, one may have a hose, the last a hole in the floor with a bucket.

There are the unattractive bits: the half eaten rat in the alley outside of a string of restaurants and open kitchens, with full-bellied birds still presiding over the corpse; or the pervasiveness of poop - human, dog, cow or goat - even in the most upscale of Delhi neighborhoods. It seems like these add flavor to the nation's character. I can go for a run in wooded areas at the outskirts of the neighborhood, and be as likely to run into the garbage collectors of the city - pigs - as I am to run by wild peacocks.

And then there are further intrusions on the local culture...

My first ride of the Delhi metro was exhilarating. It is brand new, built for the Commonwealth Games held last year. It only took me about 1.5stops of dirty looks to realize I had their disdain with my inadvertently gotten

into the 'woman only' car. In my defense, I followed a mixed group of young students - but it did slowly dawn on me that I was the only male on the train. It was just me and a carload of Indian woman expressing presence - not a word was said - just seething, penetrating looks. When I changed to a different metro line, I made sure to get into a 'mixed' car. Getting 'on' became relative, as I was forced into the car in a throng of humanity, and had to fight my way into the exiting wave of bodies at my stop. High population density has its disadvantages.

I emerged from the Delhi metro at a large park, and tried to find the entrance. It was completely on the other side, with the perimeter of the park surrounded by a chest high fence with large metal spikes. Two Indians noted my obvious dismay at the situation and suggested the three of us jump over - "Hey," they said, "this is India." We picked the nearest location, where a security guard soundly slept on the other side, leaning against a tree. The first to jump over nearly fell on his face, rolling in the dirt on the other side. The guard slept on. The second very awkwardly made his way over - but without incident. In my graceful attempt to hop over, I lost my balance - misjudging the weight of my backpack. At my zenith, I caught my pant leg on one of the protruding metal spikes. It soundly caught as I fell backwards, and I found mys

elf suddenly upside-down, dangling, partially supported by my pant leg, my clinging to the fence, and a crowd of hands that had rushed to the seen to prevent 'the crazy expat' from dying. High population density has its advantages. Laughing, I pushed/pulled up and over, carefully extricating my ripped pants from the fence. The security guard slept on.

Yes, every day is an adventure. But its the small gestures and often ignored details that make it all the more memorable - and make India an amazing place.

PS. I know this picture wasn't taken in India, but I can't describe awkwardly dangling and express it any better than this.