...The Taoist Monk "Meets" Miss Korea

My friend Hai called recently to invite me to join him and his teacher Ong Muoi (tenth uncle) for a trip to Diamond Bay Beach Resort near the lovely seaside city of Nha Trang - at a bargain price. Leaving aside the question why he was bringing a Taoist monk to a beach resort, I agreed to go.

Diamond Bay became (in)famous in Vietnam after it was retained to host the Miss Universe contest in 2008, and then failed to complete construction in time, forcing the contest to be moved to another venue in the same town. This has not prevented the resort from taking full advantage of the exposure their (not) hosting the event garnered.

After a two day side trip to Danang, I arrived a half day before Hai and Ong Moui at Diamond Bay. Upon one's arrival at the reception area, one is greeted by a life sized portrait of the winner of the Miss Universe contest behind the counter. I forget what country she was from. This kind of sets the tone for what is to come. When you go for a bite to eat, you dine in the company of photos from 100 contestants from around the world. There is nothing like looking out the window at the beautiful bay, eating rice cakes, sipping coffee and having Miss Belarussia staring you down.

Nha Trang (sorry-stock photo)
Ong Muoi and Hai arrived eventually. I was very much looking forward to spending time with Hai's teacher. I had met him in passing but we had never really spoken at length. He is 82 years old, and has spent most of his life in the mountains of Phu Quoc, an island off the southern coast of Vietnam. He is thin but strong, has a wispy white beard, long hair in a pony tail, and smiles at everyone quite a bit. I asked him how he has stayed so strong at such an advanced age, and he says it is because he climbs the mountain in Phu Quoc everday. I believed him.

Now, because the Vietnamese tend be even more obsessed with feminine beauty than we in the U.S., the developers decided to name the bungalows along the beach after various contestants in the pageant. My bald, quasi-monastic friend Hai settled in the Miss Albania cottage,and Ong Mui settled in the Miss Korea suite. There, in yet another life-sized portrait, Miss Korean herself, wearing a traditional Korean frock-dress, strikes a tae-kwon-do pose, wielding a large scary looking saber.

Nha Trang (sorry-stock photo)
We met at the pool and then in the dining room and spoke of many things. He read my pulse (Chinese style, with three fingers). He told me I needed to eat more vegetables, that my meditation practice was too mental, and that I needed to breath more deeply . He was right on all counts, and how he knew that from reading my pulse, I have no idea. When we went to the dining room (filled with kodachrome beauty contestants) for a buffet, Ong Muoi looked at the food Hai brought him with great curiosity, as if he had never seen such things before. Finally, he ate some lettuce, and nibbled at some fruit.

That night we decided to go into the city for the Sea Festival that was happenning there. Like many Vietnamese events in Vietnam (TET, Christmas, New Year's, etc.) the celebration seemed to focus on bringing together as many motorbikes, pedestrians and cars into as small a space as possible. We went out for vegetarian food, and then, because the decibel level on the street was unbearable, I decided to return to the hotel with Ong Mui.

Hai and Ong Muoi
The problem was, I had yet to visit Ong Muoi in his Miss Korea bungalow, and so neither he nor I had any idea where his room was. So we wandered the pathways of Diamond Bay - me and the Taoist monk - trying to find the bungalow in which he was staying. They were all of identical design, and because of the hour, many were unlit from the inside. Was he staying in Miss France? We approached and he shook his head. Mais non! Pas ici! Miss Germany? Nichts. Miss Vietnam? Khong! Miss Iceland? No. Miss Nigeria? No. Miss China? No. Finally, we arrived at the Miss Korea bungalow, and they key fit. We said good night and I left the tenth uncle with Miss Korea rattling a saber above his bed.

The next morning, I met Hai and Ong Muoi at the pool, another memorable moment. Hai had come to the conclusion that rubbing one's body all over with salt prior to taking a swim was excellent for one's health, so when I groggily arrived for my morning dip, my two friends were standing poolside covered from head to toe in salt, happily chatting like father and son, which basically they are. I wish I had taken a picture. Instead I rubbed salt on my body and went swimming.

It felt great.