Visit to the slums. Give milk to children. Eat lots. Wash hands lots. It's what I do.

I've decided that I would probably be really good at driving here, because it's a lot like Grand Theft Auto (the video game, for those who don't know), and I'm really, really good at GTA. It's actually kind of fun to drive in the front seat because you DO feel like you're in a video game. The rules of driving, as I've deduced, are:

#1: Instead of driving to one side or the other of the dotted lines, straddle them and drive down the middle of the road. Go to one side after several honks if some idiot won't get our of your way.

#2: Go ahead and pass with oncoming traffic about to hit you. They won't really hit you. It's just a game of chicken. And you'll win, obviously.

#3: Honk at the trucks with the signs that say "please sound horn please" (literally, EVERY truck has this phrase written on the back of it). Also, honk at everything else that moves.

#4: Honk especially loudly at the cows. Because they really care.

#5: At a red light, slow down ONLY if you're in a fanciful mood to do such a silly thing.

On a serious note, though, just as we were talking about how scary the driving is here, we saw a pedestrian who had been hit by a car in Vijayawada. There was a group of people crowded around him, holding him up. Blood was everywhere. It was an awful image, and not one I'll soon forget.

I bought toffees for the small boys, but decided that they would probably annoy me to no end if I started giving them sweets so soon, so have instead been eating them myself. Did I subconsciously by a pound of toffees for myself? .....Do I really need to answer that question?

I biked to the village by the orphanage today--about a 20 minute bike ride. My new bike, Hercules, is no Pegasus, my Portland bike (whom I miss dearly--yes I refer to my bike an animate object) but Herculean all the same. On the way, I was almost hit by an angry water buffalo, so I'm not sure how long my Indian cycling career will be. I'm more afraid of angry water buffalos than "please sound horn please" trucks.

India is something you experience with all of your senses. As if there weren't enough to absorb visually, there are loud sounds and music coming at you from every direction. And the smells--the smells... There are some good smells--wafting aromas of sweets, ripe fruit, breads, and corn on the cob. But, there are bad smells, and these bad smells I try not to linger on. I'm still trying to take it all in, and it's still rather bewildering.

Also, there's no recycling, and every time I throw away a water bottle, the Oregonian in me wants to cry a little bit. Or a lot.

I start teaching my music class on Monday! Bringing classical music to the masses--whether they want it or not. Muahahahaha.

Updated Facebook photo album a few days ago. I'm still having a hard time posting photos to here--sorry about that!