Nothing that interesting really, mostly semi rural areas of India. It's quite weird to encounter people with mobile phones who nonetheless get excited because they've never met a white person in the flesh before. Occasionally I would go places with an american colleague who had bright blonde hair and whenever she was there I magically became invisible!
Even in the city I could worship in somewhere big like Sacred Heart Cathedral in New Delhi and quite often be the only white face there. If you went to a church in the sticks you were definitely a bit of a novelty. I think that was a very different thing though, as whilst you are a minority of one you are with what is itself a very small minority in relation to the religious makeup of the country (often of migrants who'd moved north) so they themselves are aware of what it means to be other and of course you have a shared faith transcending your differences. Nonetheless I would sometimes sit there with small children staring at me for the entire duration of mass with the grown ups being a bit more furtive in their looks. I always assumed the novelty would wear off if I went to the same church(es) regularly but I seemed to remain some form of weekly entertainment.
Though there were often other white faces in work it was interesting how in some contexts once it would become apparent that unlike my colleagues I was British not American a subtle shift in how I was treated relative to them would often occur.
Thinking about all this you've reminded me of the one time being a bit different got me into all sorts of self-inflicted bother. In my brief soujourn as an archaeological surveyor in what was then Yugoslavia myself and a couple of colleagues found ourselves invited to a rural wedding in the area we'd been working. When we got there it was clear we were being shown off as 'exotic' friends and they made a big fuss of us but this included the old cliché of, as honoured guests, being given apparent delicacies that looked and tasted pretty iffy but had to be ate so's not to offend anyone. To galvanise ourselves we decked into some fortified wine but it was explained to us we should drink it diluted with water. We merrily explained that as Brits we could hold our drink, despite the clue being that even the massively built farmers present were all without exception diluting theirs. The looks of both horror and anticipation as we chugged away were subsequently entirely justified. Not one of my prouder 24 hours.