Description

My first impression of India is you don't have to hide under your bed or barricade yourself in the hotel room, although they do. They check the trunk and under the hood when you arrive; they pat you down and scan you for metal. And they do all this with their hands folded in prayer and their heads bowed, muttering Namaste.

These fancy hotels are all the same - ten ingratiating and very friendly employees surround each guest, squeezing every Scheckel they can out of the guest's pocket.

And yet... somehow, I know this is how it has always been here. This is the rhythm.

If you do venture out of the towering hotel fortress, be advised that the roads here are chaotic. They're like an hourglass with everyone trying to squeeze through at once.

And taking the tuk-tuks is not for the faint of heart - not in Bombay. I’m not entirely sure the drivers are aware that they’re supposed to avoid oncoming traffic We had several near misses earlier. The driver appeared unfazed.

When you are out on the mean streets, bring lots of small bills, unless you want to give beggars large ones. It's a full-on assault. It's a full-on assault everywhere here - on the streets and in the hotels. Sheckels are flying out of my pockets. Perhaps I should go ahead and hide under the bed.

I’ve seen poverty before. And Howard is right - the magnitude of it here is overwhelming. But the degree of it? Ehhh... I’ve seen worse.

I disappointed the Lord when I refused to give that child money yesterday. He had burn scars all over his visible body. Le pauvre! I am told, if you give them money, they follow you like a stray dog. Next time I will throw him a few Sheckles and let him follow me. The Lord would want that.

Namaste.

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