I have had some computer issues in my last days in Vietnam. This was mainly due to some adapter problems. To be honest, I probably could have found an adapter, but I had been so consumed by life in the young and prosperous city by the sea to be too concerned with it. When I did finally get some computer time in, there seemed to be a coding error in my website, and I spent some time reworking some things. Ultimately, the power of the moment led me to write first about the magnitude of my departure, which I also had issues with publication. I apologize to those who are on my e-mail list, as there may have been some redundant e-mails as I tried to fix the issue. So, with the formalities out of the way, let’s move on to the Lady of the Sea.
It was my first morning back in Da Nang. I’d spent my morning drinking coffee and soaking in the beauty of this fantastic city. I had seen some amazing things and experienced some unbelievable moments, but Da Nang could have been home. It’s laid back beach feel, it’s incredible food, it’s beautiful people, Diem’s home. I could see why she had chosen Da Nang to settle away from her ancestral beginnings. It was the educational center of Vietnam, where she had attended university. It was young and prosperous, and you could really get a sense of how bright the future of Vietnam was in this beautiful booming city by the sea. It was still incredibly foreign compared to the states, but of all the places I had traveled in Vietnam, it had become my favorite. It was my home base in the country, and I had spent most of my time here. My first days, my middle days, my last days. Being Diem’s home, her complete comfort in this bustling young city eased me into my time here and settled me into a beautiful state of solace.
After a morning of coffee and friends, Diễm informed me that we would pick up her motorbike. It would be our mode of transportation for the rest of my time here, and after getting accustomed to two wheels in the countryside, I was ready for the thrill in the city. Taking the shuttle bus and then the taxi from An Lao to the apartment was the first time I had been in a closed-in vehicle for some time and the last time until I taxied to the Airport to head home. We picked up the motorbike and headed down the narrow alleys that fingered out off of the main streets of Da Nang. We rode across the alleys and streets as the cool ocean breeze filled the avenues. It was almost as hot in Da Nang as it had been in An Lao, but the ocean breeze and the shaded streets almost made it chilly as we dove and darted across the back alleys of the city.
We pulled up to the boardwalk that lined the beach and paid to park the motorbike. I walked out onto the beach and put my feet into the South China Sea for the first time. I had been in the country for over 2 weeks, and it was the first time my feet had felt the sea. It was a beautiful sight. It was a strange mix of Caribbean and Californian waters. Turquoise blue, cool (cooler than the gulf but not as cold as California), sand-filled beaches as far as you could see. As clear as Key West, as cool as San Diego, as sandy as Mexico, mountains on the horizon. The Lady Buddha, ever watchful over her beaches off in the distance. It was as beautiful a coastal scene as I’ve ever seen. I always walked the beach alone. It was consistently full during the day with day trippers, vacationers, and foreigners. locals dared not venture into the hot Indochina sun, for they knew better and waited till the dying light of evening caressed the shoreline. The last day I was in Vietnam was the only time Diem ventured out onto the sandy beach with me. We darted around the sun’s rays and kept to the shadows of the buildings and palm trees. I wasn’t going to spend my last moments here without her by my side, I had grown incredibly fond of her and her of me. So we crisscrossed and darted through the shade wherever we could find it, it was a wonderful afternoon, but that is not this part of the story.
As I came off of the beach on that first day, Diễm informed me that we were going to a special temple. After a brief conversation, I found it to be the lady Buddha whom I had peered at many times during my visit here. She sits on the rising mountain of the Son Tra peninsula some 9 km north of the beach and is an amazing site to see from all over the city. I was excited to see her and participate in the local customs, but I found that her impressive visage was only part of the story. We headed north out of Da Nang and up into the foothills of the Son Tra mountains. The switchbacks that we followed up the steep slopes seemed incredibly arduous for our two-wheeled steed. It graded pretty steep at the top, and at one point, I was afraid we didn’t have enough low gears left to climb the last few kilometers. The Air Blade motorbike persevered, and we slowly, methodically, made it to the top. I had seen the Lady Buddha small and hazy off in the distance many times. Now I was looking at Da Nang through the same lens. The Lady Buddha looked down on me with her majestic, mighty, and calming smile while Da Nang sat down on the horizon across the sea in her hazy skyline. 
We paid to park the motorbike and began our walk up the ancient steps. The Lady Buddha was the largest Buddha statue in the region and a major pilgrimage site for Buddhists around the world. I crested the top of the steps and walked into an amazing scene. At the entrance was a shop, and we purchased an iced coffee and some Popsicle to cool us off in the tropical heat. The Lady Buddha was Impressive enough, and I started my tour at her feet. Inside, she had many floors that wound up her interior with alters and prayer stations on every level. I had to take my shoes off to enter and discovered that this was customary with all religious sites. I complied and traversed the stairs till I could go no further. As always, Diem sat in the shade near the entrance, awaiting my return. It’s an incredibly moving site to see people praying and bowing to their gods and goddesses. It is a site and experience that is so uncommon back home it seems unreal here. I took in the moment, took some time to pray at one of the prayer sites, and hoped that as vast as this world is beyond my Christian home, God must have a plan. I descended the steps of the Lady Buddha and headed out into the monastery grounds.
The monastery grounds were amazing. It was a functioning monastery, so at times you could see the monks off in the restricted areas eating or just wandering the grounds. It was unlike anything I had ever seen before. Pagoda after Pagoda, ritual Scene after ritual scene. People praying everywhere and for everything. It was an immense complex full of incredible moments. Many depictions of Buddhist history and some Hindi depictions. It was a strange amalgamation of many different religions and beliefs. Cao Dai is one of the words used to describe this conglomeration of religious ideals. Temple after temple stretched across the terraced mountainside depicting images of the Buddha, Shiva, Vishnu, Brahma, Mariamman, and the like. I walked barefoot from pagoda to temple, temple to pagoda, in what seemed like an endless row of deities and goddesses. When I was finally ready to go, I found Diem, ever patient, ever watchful, always amazing, waiting to take me home. 
We collected the motorbike from the lot and made the descent down the mountain to the coastal highway. It was such a steep descent. Instead of hearing the engine scream at our ascent, it made no noise on our way down. Gravity and the neutral position of the gearbox were all that was needed to make the trip down the mountainside. We took the sharp curve onto the highway, and off we went south toward the city. Halfway between the mountain and the city, I saw an amazing site. The fisherman’s harbor, the harbor the Lady Buddha stood watch over, was beginning to fill with the boats coming in from the sea. On the side of the road, the fishermen’s wives were setting up a clandestine market to sell their husbands’ goods before they had to offer them to the commercial markets. In this environment, I could get the freshest seafood for the lowest price, and they could get the highest price before the market cut them low. We pulled over. It was an endless row of kiddie pools, large bowls, and fish tank pumps that kept the day’s catch often alive and at least as fresh as one could imagine. I bought the perkiest sea snails that I could find. They were trying desperately to get out of their makeshift home and some of the most beautiful shrimp I had ever seen. We procured our dinner jumped back on the motorbike, and headed to the grocery store.
The Basement of the grocery store was not unlike the basement parking decks at a Wal-Mart in the center of Atlanta, you know, the one on Howell Mill, only this one was a sea of motorbikes. We grabbed our parking ticket and headed up the elevator. we were in the mall building across the river from my apartment. I will put a picture here for you to see. It’s the largest building in the shot from my apartment building, and the bottom half is a mall in the Western sense. this mall, however, is compact, rounded, and has many floors. The central part of the mall is open for a dozen floors or so, and the escalators rise up and down the center of this modern temple to commerce. The grocery store was on the third floor, and we procured the additions we would need to cook the delicious fresh seafood we had picked up by the sea. 
