Right now I’m looking out the window of a ninth-floor apartment where Mary and I are staying in East Asia. On the horizon I see mountains, and filling the space between our apartment and the mountains, as far as I can see to my left and to my right, are towering buildings. Some are grey and some are brown, but they are everywhere. Car horns are blaring almost constantly. On the streets are buses, cars, bicyclists, rickshas and taxis. It’s a bustling urban environment that makes a city like Indianapolis look like a mere village, and yet this particular city is one of the smaller ones in this part of the world.