Here are a few things I gleaned about my ten days in India.  It was a huge learning curve for me … and thank God I had my friend Mithra by my side to keep me from making any rookie mistakes.

*India had one of its epic electrical grid meltdowns just a few days before we arrived.  600 million Indians were plunged in to darkness.  By the time we were on the scene, the power would come and go without explanation from time to time.  In the small village of Leh, you had 20-minute windows to get anything accomplished.  The power was out more often than it was on. It was like being in a discotheque with a really lazy strobe light.

*There is poverty.  There is abject poverty.  And then there is the kind of poverty you see in India.  This country needs about 100,000 more Mother Theresas.  That is all.

*Because of impossibly sweltering weather … many travel guides suggest you don’t visit between mid-June and mid-August.  Uh, I’d take that advice.  Lesson learned.  Of course, the monsoon season starts right after that.  Lord.

*Indians have a good sense of humor.  Or a creative copywriter.  You can be driving along in the middle of nowhere and out pops a sign chastising you about your skills behind the wheel.  “Drinking with whiskey … is far too risky,” read one sign.  “Speed is a knife … that can cut a life,” read another.  “Your hurry is a worry,” berated a third sign.  My fave?  “Bro — drive slow.”  I think Burma Shave would be proud. Or appalled.

*The folks here are friendly.  You smile at them and they beam.  You wave and they instantly wave back … nine out of ten times.  There’s always that one guy who asks you for money.

*Dogs are rampant.  Cows are rampant.  Monkeys are rampant.  Donkeys are rampant. It’s like Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom — centered in major metropolitan areas.  Has this country not heard of these crazy little things called “fences”?

*The oh-so polite Indians have a head-waggle or head-bobble that can mean yes, no or maybe.  Try to get verbal confirmation regardless so there’s no miscommunication.

*Other than the Dalai Lama himself, rarely does anyone incite pandemonium in India.  Except for Bollywood stars. We were in the teeny village of Leh at the base of the Himalayas when I spotted cameras clicking and Indians jockeying for position.  Turns out, India’s resident Bollywood villain was doing a little shopping.  Think Alan Rickman but with god-awful hair.  And even more ghastly taste in clothing.

It was a wonderfully exotic vacation … perfect from start to finish.  I doubt I will ever get to absorb so much culture in my entire life.  But I’d kinda like to try.  Just sayin’.