greetings from mumbai

Still gathering my thoughts, but I can share a few tidbits about Bombay thus far:

Taxi drivers have two modes: driving with right arm slung around the wheel with left hand permanently affixed to the horn; and parked.

I will never eat another chicken kebab as tasty as the one consumed at Leopold's cafe in Colaba. And crazily enough, I've had the loveliest scoop of Italian ice cream here in Mumbai--kiwi, with real bits of kiwi and seeds, which added a nice texture. The girls behind the counter all giggled shyly when they heard my accent. When I asked for directions (to this internet cafe, in fact), the store's manager offered to walk me there, as it was on her way to the bank. She was impressed with my being American--even more impressed that I live in New York. She said she loved her job ("Obviously! All the ice cream I can eat!"), even more than her last job working at a call center for Travelocity. She said her favorite American accent was her boss's, who is from L.A.

Mumbai is HOT. That's all there is to be said about that.

The biggest culture shock about Bombay so far is the poverty. It's everywhere, intermingled with the stunning buildings and shiny Western hotels and cafes. It's heartbreaking to see these tiny woman-like girls (can't be any older than 9? 10?) carrying around their baby siblings like satchels of flour, smiling, hands extended, "Hello, money? Rupees, please? Pretty lady!"