I was taught the recipe to eternal happiness from Mr. Happy himself, a former Zen Monk. An opportunity not to be missed…you might think... initially...
As a long-term traveler, I was looking forward to staying in an Airbnb owned by a former Zen monk...
A white airy interior and small brown meditation pillows on the photo’s supported the promise of zen bliss. Emphasized by the small cast iron teapots on the barely decorated low table.
This together with a low price, felt like the peaceful oasis in the middle of busy Saigon where my meditation practice would be supported.
The best of all... it was called ‘happy place’! - How could I go wrong.
After booking, about 20 one sentence messages filled my mailbox.
Offering to pick me up from the airport, 2 addresses where I could show up, and all types of confusion. This with a facebook invite from Mr. Happy himself. Ok, I thought. I do not know how Vietnamese people communicate. Might be a cultural difference, it did not feel very zen yet.
When I arrived, the happy host came downstairs.
A short pudgy smiling super friendly Vietnamese 50+ guy with rudimental English grabbed my bag, dragged it up the stairs like he was not noticing the 23 kilos. Only for it to be thrown upside down on the nicely arranged little zen pillows in my new room.
There I thought zen people were deliberate and mindful in their actions. What do I know about zen, right!
He invited me for a cup of tea on the balcony and told me about his companies in broken English with the help of google translate.
Everything involving happy in one way or the other. Happy books, happy studio’s, happy financial institutions, happy cryptocurrency, happy stories and happy gallery. I was impressed, he seemed super productive while being happy. I want to know that secret!
I asked him; 'Are you always happy?'
He happily said yes. Maybe I was wrong, but I just could not believe it. It felt flat, thin…like a happy wall, or did I not want to believe it. Am I too jaded?
I asked; ‘How do you do that?' Sometimes my emotion is happy, but this is just simply not always the appropriate or successful.
No, he did not have this problem. He was eminent he was always happy. So I thought; ‘Well if a former Zen monk knows how to be happy all the time, and build an empire around it. I can learn from him. So let's be humble open and learn.’
He continued and showed me many photo’s of him in the zendo and monastery, to top it off with da masterpiece.
- A photoshoot of him sitting in what seems as meditation in front of a beautiful cave.
The main focal point of the photo is a stunningly beautiful naked woman coming out of the cave, elegantly dancing symbolizing lust.
Curling around the seemingly undisturbed closed eyed meditating man. Showing every part of her fit body, not leaving much space for guessing.
He explained the meaning of his spiritual photoshoot.
When he meditated lust came and gone, he is not susceptible to it anymore. He has conquered that vice.
Even though it was a strange and sexual photo shoot, I thought, ok, that is great, a guy saying he overcame lust.
It made me feel relieved and save. A man who is aware that lust is not a thing to aspire to was a breath of fresh air.
A serious meditator who is not a sleazy guy just trying to get his needs met, it is possible…wasn't it? Would a Buddha do this photoshoot? Am I crazy or judgemental or just lack understanding of humility?
I thought back to my many meditation retreats where man and woman were separated and well covered with strict clothing guidelines.
After tea, he invited me to join him for a meal. I told him I did not eat meat. He seemed surprised;' Since when… ?'
- Uhm.. since my whole life.
He told me when he was a monk he also did not eat meat. But now in business life, everyone eats meat, so he did as well. Many of the Thai monks also ate meat, and Vietnam is also a very meaty country.
He asked me if I drank alcohol. I said no, rarely. He liked to drink. I was surprised as intoxicants were also a total no-go in my simple and for me strict Vipassana meditation courses. It was seen as a vice that makes you break the other guidelines for artful living.
I have not been a monk for 5 years, I am sure he knows what he is doing. Maybe he also rose above Buddhist rules?
We had a nice dinner, talking about the delicious Vegan food in basic English. I really enjoyed how he took care of me, ordered drinks, poured tea.
“Do you have a family?’, I asked. 'Yes, my wife, son and parents live in the apartment above the Airbnb apartment.’
A sigh of relief, I was happy to hear he had a wife and son. It made me feel that his intentions were purely platonic.
After dinner, he insisted to pay, something I as a Dutch woman I rarely allow. The last thing I want is to have a man believe that he is owed something. But again, him being a successful Asian businessman, husband and father is something else than hanging out with another backpacker.
Not wanting to offend him, and also liking the rare chance to treated to a dinner, I happily accepted.
This first night I stayed at this Airbnb apartment, I noticed he did not go home. He stayed in the vacant room next to me, instead of with his family upstairs. Playing loud sad songs on repeat till past one.
The next morning I found my host on the balcony with his friend. He kindly made 2,5-liter warm water for me to drink. It is not something I asked for, but I know it is a great yogic habit. So although I found it strange but it could also be seen as kind. So I drank it. Would he do that for all his guests?
I came home that evening, and after a short conversation he asked; 'Have you had a Vietnamese massage yet?’. ‘No, not yet’ I replied.
Thailand, where I just came from, is a great place for massages. You have them with clothes on in a hall of people while wearing an oversized unsexy massage outfit.
I was not sure where this was heading, my curious nature and the feeling I was in the safe hands of a former Zen monk, made me join for this local experience.
And so it happened, that dressed in an oversized massage outfit, I was led into a room with multiple massage beds.
On the middle bed, a little fat guy was being massaged. Grunting like a baby piglet.
Halfway my message I hear a grunt that sounds like my name. ‘Sorry?’ I said,’ Susan, you like your massage.’ I hear again...
Omg.. it just clicked, the little grunting guy was my Airbnb host. Half naked, next to me, in a red furnished boudoir-like massage place.
This started to get uncomfortable and weird very fast. Hoped he wasn't getting a happy end there...
The next morning it was women's day. Which it seemed, they celebrate in Vietnam.
I joined the happy host and his friend for tea on the balcony. Mr. Happy showed me a message in his google translate:
'For women's day, I would like to kiss you.’
...
Hmm, is the problem google translate, cultural or just general sleaziness?
...
I wrote back; 'No thank you, I prefer not.’ And gave him back his phone, annoyed. Is this seriously a guy who claims to have overcome lust?!?
How do I navigate man? When am I being played while I am trying to stay polite, or when am I judging to quick or should I give them benefit of the doubt and be compassionate trough culture, language or general male clumsiness.
Or when is it a manipulative guy who would just try anything to get what he wants?
It is not always easy to detect, only by really observing someone's behavior over their talk - and then still...
That afternoon I met the cohost girl of the apartment. She told me that I can meet the family upstairs, and they can help with my laundry and are super nice. Made me feel again this was a normal stable family, and that my uneasy feeling was probably a result overreaction on my side.
- Then she told me that he said I was going hiking with him for 4 days.. alone.. in the mountains!
Excuse me?!…Obviously, that was not in my plan.
That evening he showed up with a rose for me, for women's day.
‘Thank you, that is cute.’ I said politely and dismissive, and put it in a glass of water outside my room, in the hallway.
If the guy his English would have been better I would have tried to start a conversation with him. I usually do not shy away from confrontation.
But as his English was terrible, how to start about subtle dynamics which are even difficult to communicate with a guy that speaks the same language.
After that, I stayed in my room, and he posted himself outside my room for the rest of the evening. Sending me messages on Whatsapp if I wanted to have some tea with him, or make music.
Little did I know that was only the start. He began a continuous stream of invites for all types of things; tea, trips, his office, gallery, coffee, starting a business, making music, painting together. If he didn't see me as I was hiding... it went over messenger.
In the meantime, he send me an article he wrote on how a man should treat their wife to prevent boredom. And to be fair, it did seem a reasonable write. Someone must have translated it...
I wondered, am I am going crazy, am I reading the signs right or wrong. Am I making this up, or am I overreacting?
Even though he was clearly getting more and more crazy, he still insisted he was happy. Blearing out crazy loud classical repeating songs in front of my room, like he was trying to smoke me out of my room.
While crowding my messenger with invites which if I replied, I declined. With a man like this, you cannot imagine what they are capable of.
How did this spiritual fairytale end?
I packed my bag, walked past him, said bye, carrying my own suitcase.
I do not need to take any shit, I book my own Airbnb and although I love it when a man carries my luggage. I can carry my own Baggage - I am not willing to pay every price.
Grateful for the class that life served, and happy I got out in time.
I think that no fixed state of happiness can be continuously maintained. Sometimes someone has to give in.
I do not aspire to be happy anymore, I rather be real,
be sad,
be angry,
be grieving,
be happy,
be grateful.
I aspire not to be a needy narcissistic asshole covering my empty black energy sucking hole with fake spiritual bullshit of happiness and which leaves my environment stuck with the slack of my lack of self-awareness and rampant denial.
If this means I need to go through all emotions to not be like this. Crash and practice to maintain hope trough it all, fall, adjust and improve all the time. I will take this option, and explore within. My former flirt with the pursuit of happiness is adjusted.
It's exchanged for the full experience of all what is, in all its messiness, trying to maintain hope and emerge from it all, like a phoenix, ready to burn again.
I do not think there is a ‘happy’ ending for everyone.