There’s a rooftop in Kathmandu. It’s higher than most. High enough for the prayer flags to catch wind. High enough to see the edge of the smog way up in the sky. High enough to see the city and the mountains, blurred by dust, on all sides. Up there you can see everything, but it’s not high enough. Not high enough to to escape the dust. Not high enough to escape the sounds of the city. Not even high enough to escape the prying eyes of it’s people. That’s what makes that rooftop perfect.