One of my favorite things in Colombo is to walk out the half block to the ocean, sit or stand upon the rocks that act as breakers, and view the sunset, made all the more vibrant beautiful by those pollution particles in the air. The sun drops from the sky in a matter of minutes, turning a bright day into night without second thought.

On the rocks, facing due West, is to the right the harbor of Colombo. In the distance you can see the line of ships making their way to the port, lights flickering in the distance, just above to blue horizon. To the left is a small military installment (a shack, really) and beyond that, Wellawatte beach—the haunt of umbrella couples: young couples illicitly kissing or just sitting underneath an umbrella, often, I’ve read, too poor for anything else.

Every hour or so, a train rickets by, blowing its horn loudly to announce its passage.I’m also under the suspicion that these breakers are where people go to light up, which would explain the smoke that certainly does not smell like cigarettes.

From the balcony where I sit typing this message, I see the ocean and all of the apartment blocks of Colombo to my right (north), their tropical tin, clay or, concrete roofs, as resplendent as the blue sea. Life is easy, the breeze is nice—but damn, as soon as you’re in the sun—murderously hot.