I cross the equator and switch hemispheres, barely:  1° North.

At the airport a friendly officer puts a leaflet into my passport that reminds me: the local sentence for drug trafficking is Death. I did not pack any drugs, but still, I feel uneasy when I pick up my luggage and another friendly officers signals me to put it into a very efficient looking high-tech scanner. What if …  If, fortunately, does not happen.

Public transportation is spotless …

… with a sense for details …

… spectacular exits …

… and impressive fines.

Downtown …

… I take a boat down the river, …

… and visit the sentinels of the colonial past, …

… all white and shining.

In the tropical heat and humidity air conditioning …

… creates islands of cool comfort.

There seems to be no confusion about values:

This place …

… seems dedicated to Things …

… and Beauty.

At night …

… the city lights up.

There is entertainment …

… and food …

… to choose from.

The next day I see references to many cultures. Some more authentic …

… than others …

… but this city …

… has China in her Eyes.