From the rooftop of my hotel the city spills out in front of me and I see a boundless horizon of rooftops. Slums and ghetto-chic hotels that have sheets and clotheslines dangling from them like decorative appendages. My eyes scan down the wrinkled, sun-spotted faces of the buildings. Below this facade lie cities so invisible that their characters seem like a mirage. Two-legged dogs fetching, toothless witchdoctors selling lottery tickets, children capturing flies for sport, monks running a merchandising stall. And the most magnificent thing; when you smile, they smile back. This is the cheapest thrill known to mankind.