Worshipping at the altar of optimism

The first time I walked up the stairs to my new apartment I saw this Buddhist altar outside the door

I smiled.  It was an aspect of Hanoi I had forgotten.  I like the altars.  I like the fact that beyond the spiritual burning joss sticks there were usually small bottles of booze, a pack of cigarettes, or in this case a single cigarette burned down to the filter.

The lights here are quite tasteful but party lights are not unusual.  Sometimes there’s a mechanical waving cat for reasons I have never understood.

In a strange way it seemed like good luck that the altar was outside my door.  I am the world’s least superstitious or religious person but it felt in tune with the new lucky Hanoi me.

And then it crossed my mind, as a committed atheist, what would I have made of a cross outside my door?

Honestly?  I probably wouldn’t have taken the apartment in the first place.  I’d have written the owners off as preachers and walked away.  I had enough of missionaries to last a life time in Cameroon and the experience added a context to religion whereby it soon became hard to tell the difference between the mumbo jumbo of witch doctors and soul saving Christians.

In truth, I’m hard on Christianity because, despite being a non-believer, it’s nominally my religion.  I am christened. I even went to Sunday school as a child.

In the same way, because Vietnam is not my country, I feel more inclined to cut it some slack.

Working within the media here I keep a close eye on Vietnamese news.  What strikes me is the kind of stories coming out of Vietnam that “sell”.  Stick updates on people killed in typhoons on Twitter and it’ll get a cursory glance.  Meanwhile if human rights abuses are highlighted you can blink and it’s gone several times around the world wide web.

In this age of Guantanamo you’d think people would be less likely to point fingers.

But while the accusations may not be unfounded I can’t help but sway the other way.  I want to accentuate the positive.  I want to trust my instincts that the inherent goodness I see in this country will win through.  I feel a desire to highlight and share good news.

As with Buddhism I have no doubt that I am softer on this country than I am on my own.  I’m not sure whether it’s the history or the charm that makes me more patient.

Maybe it’s more selfish than that.  Maybe I want to believe in this country simply because I want to stay here.

But I feel like somehow Vietnam will muddle through.  Not all actions and decisions will be perfect. Not every direction taken will be correct.  But the destination will be roughly where it should be.

I’m naive when it comes to Vietnam.  I know.

But given the choice of siding with the naive optimists or those always ready to believe the worst, and only the worst, I’m happy with my choice.

Here’s hoping.

In the meantime, I’m wondering if Buddha will escape next year’s smoking ban.