You Know You’re in India When…

You Know You’re In India When…

You Google “picking mosquito bites.”

You count your mosquito bites, wondering when to start worrying about how many there are.

You crave paratha instead of chocolate.

You would rather eat (fried) food off the street that has probably been swarming with flies than food from the hostel, which has probably been covered in ants.

All of your washing revolves around a bucket: taking a shower, hand washing your clothes, rinsing your blackened feet.

You get excited about a “texting plan” that gives you 4,000 texts a month for 26 rupees.

You are not surprised when a goat emerges from behind a trash truck as you walk to class.

You are surprised that there is a trash truck that oddly resembles the green sanitation service ones that you see in the States.

You can’t go to another city without an Indian guy asking you to take a picture with him.

Exposing your ankles or shoulders feels indecent.

Wearing your hair down feels indecent.

You carry contact solution, toilet paper, baby wipes, hand sanitizer, bug spray, and a scarf with you, no matter where you are going.

You bobble your head instead of saying “thank you.”

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