Adventure into Real India

We went off campus for the first time today.

Immediately we were greeted by the poster-child, National Geographic image of India--crowded streets, squished stores topped by colorful signs with over five different scripts in bold letters, barefooted schoolchildren dodging haywire trucks and scooters, the occasional stray dog. Shanty-towns so shamelessly juxtaposing highrise business buildings, a relentless amount of litter, and an overwhelming sense that I have been born, by chance, into a life of incredible privilege.

EVERYONE stares at us.
It's one thing to be white in India; that alone solicits attention.
It's an entirely different thing to be white, and surrounded by 25 other white people, clearly with no indication of direction or purpose in the chaos of city life.
We followed the directors around like little ducklings.
Ducklings wielding tourist expressions, clicking pictures of every brick and bird and building. 
First interaction with a small child begging for food and money. This woman was selling bubbles and consented to have her picture taken. Strange contrast. Innocent bubbles, not-so-innocent poverty.
And to think, we weren't even in the actual city of Hyderabad.

Other things of the day:
One. Had my first haggle interaction with street vendors. Walked away with a beautiful Indian dress, pants, and a silk scarf. For like 3 dollars each.
Two. Ate a WHOLE DEEP FRIED PEPPER. I don't even understand how my previously under-spiced palate handled that.
Three. Decided that I am one-hundred-per-freeking-cent adopting an Indian child. I could not tell you why, but Indian toddlers are about 754 times more adorable than American toddlers. Every single one of them. It must be the magic of India in the air at birth. Seriously.