 I was traveling in South East Asia and spending a couple of days in Hồ Chí Minh City, Vietnam. I had just arrived and hadn’t yet adjusted to the stifling heat. As I walked around the city soaked with perspiration I spotted a pub, set in a small traditional alleyway.
Deciding to quench my thirst I took a seat on the outdoor patio and gulped down a beer. As I sat on the patio I took in the impressive traditional house across from me, with its blue tiled roof curved towards the sky at four points.
Many people began to gather outside the house, each one dressed in formal clothes. They set up quite a celebration, with several large tables filled with food and drink.
From my time living in Korea years earlier, I knew all too well that the formal flower decorations they had placed outside the home were used to officially welcome someone to their new home.
As I continued quenching my thirst on the pub patio, joyful traditional music was played by a group of musicians to welcome the family. As a powerful drum beat could be heard with an electric guitar thrown into the mix, I started to bob my head to the music.
 Between my dehydration and enjoying the rhythmic music, I quickly polished off two very large glasses of beer. Suddenly overcome with feelings of vacation freedom, and wanting to immerse myself in the culture, I began swaying to the music and then dancing.
After fifteen minutes of vigorous dancing in full view of the family, I turned to the woman working at the pub to remark what a great house-warming party the family was throwing. She looked at me in horror - and told me it was a funeral, and informed me that the place I had thought was an impressive home was actually a holy temple for the dead.
As I rushed out of the pub I passed the temple door and spotted the corpse lying in state - who I was sure was smirking at me.
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