"Are you going to go bow to the monk?"
I stop to catch my breath before I answer.
Today, my explorations led me far out of town. To a cave.
It was way bigger than I expected, and way more devoid of people than I anticipated.
I was all by myself in the base of a mountain that in it had huge statues of Buddha all over.
The ground everywhere is littered with idols and incense, ribbons, money and stones.
It felt like something out of a movie.
It felt like something out of the Old Testament.
It felt incredibly devoid of hope.
Before leaving to go home, I decided to climb higher, to the top of the mountain.
Along the way I met one man who was coming down.
The man who's now asking me if I'm going to bow to the monk at the top.
I tell him that I won't be doing that, because I am a Christian. I follow Jesus.
They're all the same he says. Just be good. Think good. Do good. You just have a cross to protect you.
I say that's not true. And the cross is only a reminder of what Jesus did for us.
I want to go on, but he is losing interest.
He heads down, and I head up.
Of course there's another temple up there.
I choose this moment to sing every worship song I know
almost out of anger that this place exists.