I’m exhausted and it’s only 9:30. We set off for the Cao Dai temple in the morning. Three hours or so away from the city. Sardine-like houses and crushing traffic slowly gave way to rice paddies, water buffalo and hard packed red dirt roads. The view out the window of the van was both sad and beautiful. People going on about their daily lives. At least ten wedding feasts.

The temple, was beautiful. Carved, painted, perhaps a bit gaudy, but beautiful. I traded cameras with a Vietnamese guy to take each other’s photo in front of the temple. He was from Ho Chi Minh City, all smiles and shy. We passed each other again later in the temple and he gave a quick bow. Friendly. Everyone was so friendly.

I walked around the temple barefoot. Feet warm on the hot tiles. The ceremony started and the chanting filled the temple. At least a hundred people praying to their gods. People left but I stayed, listening to the chanting. Watching one boy’s serene face as he meditated with his gods.

Today was a day of mostly silence and quiet contemplation. Kicked off by the monks in the temple and carried on through the day. In the midst of all the chatter, I was the quiet one. Watching, absorbing, feeling.

We went to the Black Lady Mountain. A place that doesn’t see many non-vietnamese visitors. The rainy season reminded us it was here and we waited awhile for the monsoon like rains to stop and the cable cars to start running again. When they did we started up the mountain – me, alone with my thoughts due to our odd group number.

People passing by on their descent tested out their english skills with “hello, how are you“s. We smiled and nodded to each other as we passed and I thought to myself, beautiful country, beautiful people.

And then we got to the top. The top where we could see out forever. The rice paddies, the city, all laid out as far as the eye could see. We walked up higher, to the temple, by far my favorite. The decoration was not necessarily different but the atmosphere was very serene.

Up another flight of stairs to see the lady. On my way up I was suddenly on display. So incredible, the sight of foreigners, they had to take pictures. Laughing at my hellos, they went down and I went up to see the most beautiful buddha I’ve seen yet. Big, but delicate, lying serenely on her side looking off the mountain out onto Vietnam below her.

We sat, resting a moment before our descent and were suddenly surrounded by people. At first, seemingly friendly taking photos of us and laughing, but then suddenly, strangely sinister, grabbing the kids in our group and posing them for pictures. Our “tour guide” Binh questioned them and the answer was oddly disturbing. We left. The incident marring the peace and tranquility of an otherwise beautiful place. If we had stayed, would the group have turned into a mob? Would anything have actually happened to us on that mountain? I don’t know. This was a new experience, to be the object of harassment due only to appearance and lack of language. A role reversal.

The ride down, windy and warm, did much to dispel the uneasiness that had replaced my peace, but it still lingers. It seems almost fitting that the way home also had us witness the aftermath of our first traffic accident. Hurt, but not dead, I hope. Although we didn’t stop to look, motoring past, unwilling to help.

This country is complicated. Both beautiful and confusing.