Church.

A community place for prayer.

The Catholic church has invaded my life here in Vietnam. Every morning I am woken up at 4am and 6am by loud, insistent church bells only a few blocks away. My aunt and uncle's main decorative theme in their home consists of the Virgin Mary and Jesus on the cross. Holy water from different countries sit on their shelves, and several calendars depicting scenes from the bible adorn a wall in every room. 

Just next door, where the above photos were taken, is a covered alter where anyone can go to reflect or to pray. It has remained empty all but one time that I have walked by, but I like the idea that the community makes a place for prayer. On the eve of Tet, I attended Mass with my family. I enjoyed it for the most part. I don't know if it is sacrilege to say, but I found it pretty entertaining. At the end we were all given envelopes with a scripture inside that is thought to be a reflection of how our new year will be. Mine was something to the effect of getting along with others will bring me success. It was like a Catholic fortune cookie!

When I was younger I found the idea of attending worship of any organized religion offensive to my own spiritual beliefs, but now I find it enriches my experience of an unfamiliar place or culture. I'm grateful to be here with my family, to have them as guides, and to be allowed into corners of this country and this culture that have always been out of reach for me. The best part is that they want me to be a part of it. As much as I feel I have been missing this part of myself, they recognize that I am a piece of their life that belongs. It is often awkward, confusing, and sometimes sad, but knowing that I belong to people here means more than I am able to express.