Delhi is intense in all the ways you'd expect. Crowded. Loud. Dirty. Hot. It mostly smells like rotting and urine, but sometimes it smells like rain or perfume or incense. There are cows in the street and stray goats in the market. Dogs everywhere. Monkeys, although not as many as the dogs. I hear them more than I see them. The women, even the homeless women, wear beautiful clothes. Men in turbans, red streaks on faces, nose rings, bindis, hindi, spices... good people, bad people. There are children asking for money at most markets and traffic jams. In the traffic jams I just say no, but at the markets I play with them like I play with the kids I work with. We make origami swans from the trash on the ground and then I toss
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