Palgongsan Revisited

I love my days with Mr. Nam. I never know what to expect. Today was no exception.

He called me last night. “Miss Rori? How is your condition?” Hello, Mr. Nam. My condition is good. How is yours? “Good. Thank you. Climbing? Mountain? Tomorrow your holiday?” Yes, I’d love to go hiking tomorrow. It is my day off, so I don’t have to be back by any particular time. “Dr. Park come, too, okay?” Sure. Sounds good. “Tomorrow morning. Your house. 10 am? Maybe 10:15 am?” Okay. Just call me when you get here and I’ll come out. See you tomorrow. “Yayyyy.”

This morning he arrived alone. Where’s Dr. Park? Mr. Nam pointed to his cheek. “Reservation. Dentist.” Oh, he had a dentist appointment? “Yes. Had to keep. But Mr. Koo come with us, okay?” Sure. We pulled to the side of the busy road where Mr. Koo lives. Not exactly the side, just over a bit from the center lane. Mr. Nam has a driving style that is very, unique. Cars were zipping past, honking. Mr. Nam saw Mr. Koo in the rear view mirror. “Ahhhh – he comes.” Mr. Koo started to get in the back seat on the passenger’s side, but was blocked by a street post. As he began walking around the rear of the car, Mr. Nam put the car in reverse. Mr. Nam! Mr. Koo – there! and I pointed. “Ahhhh – yes.” Mr. Koo didn’t seem phased in the least that he had just about gotten run over. “Annyong ha-say-yo…”

On the way there, Mr. Nam and I talked in English, Mr. Koo and Mr. Nam talked in Korean. At one point, Mr. Nam asked me how much of their conversation I understood. I told him virtually none, just a few words here and there. As we got closer to Palgongsan, I noticed there were many brightly colored round lanterns hanging from trees and sign posts. What are those for? I’ve noticed them being hung all around town. “Buddha’s Birthday. May 19. Big, big celebration. Many people walk the road with lanterns. Good to see.”

We had almost reached Palgongsan when Mr. Nam’s phone rang. It was Dr. Park. His dentist had stood him up. He was angry. He would have rather been hiking with us. Mr. Nam suggested he meet us at the summit at Katbawi. He didn’t want to do that.

We were admiring the flowers along the road when Mr. Nam’s phone rang again. I could understand he was telling someone where we were. Then describing something at Palgongsan. But that was it. After he hung up he said, “Mr. Kim, other friend, meet us too. Okay?” This was turning into quite the expedition.

We reached the parking area. It was probably about half full. More than any other times I’d been there. Mr. Nam explained, “Today. After rain. Very, very clear. Many people climbing.” Of course. We had heavy rains this week, and it was true, the air this morning was incredibly crisp and fresh. Even though there were ample empty spaces in the sand parking lot, Mr. Nam chose a tight squeeze between two already parked cars, with people exiting from one. The elderly driver of the parked car stared at Mr. Nam as he inched his way forward in the sand, but he didn’t appear perturbed, and didn’t say anything.

Mr. Nam, Mr. Koo, and I got out of the car and started walking. “Coffee? We will wait for Mr. Kim.” Okay. Thank you. Mr. Koo got three coffees from the vending machine (it’s scary how fond I’ve grown of this concoction) and we sat and sipped, the two men smoking as well. We finished and Mr. Nam started walking again. But, don’t we need to wait for Mr. Kim? “Yes. Yes. This way.” We walked to the bus stop near the park entrance. This made no sense to me, but I didn’t say anything. I figured someone would eventually tell me the plan. I just needed to wait.

I’m beginning to think my time in Korea is a lesson for me. A lesson in accepting things as they come to me, trusting that everything will work out. In San Francisco I was an advance planner. Not obsessively so, but I usually had my weekend plans cemented by Tuesday. Here, I’m learning to be more in the moment.

And sure enough, a few minutes later Mr. Nam told me that Mr. Kim was coming to pick us up and drive us to the Katbawi entrance. This still didn’t make sense to me, but I accepted it. I had stooped down to tie my shoelaces tighter when I heard Mr. Nam say, “Mr. Kim, mania for climbing. Today, hike 10 hours. Tie your laces tight. Hahahahaha.” I glanced up at him. Okay and smiled. This made him laugh even more. I think I’m beginning to recognize his sense of humor. Though I wonder. Some of the things he says are, well, odd. Is this a function of his personality, or his language ability? Because I’m sure my personality doesn’t come across accurately when I speak Korean. I just don’t know enough vocabulary.

Within minutes, Mr. Kim approached in a SUV. We all hopped in and he sped off, up the winding mountain road. His driving style couldn’t have been more the antithesis of Mr. Nam’s. Mr. Nam drives somewhat slowly, ignoring most other cars on the road to do what he wants – stopping in the road, crossing lanes, turning across traffic, but he never has an accident. Mr. Kim, on the other hand, raced as quickly as he could, throwing us from side to side of the car as he careened around the sharp curves. Sudden stops and instant acceleration accompanied the sharp turns.

We reached the parking lot and he continued past it, up, up, up farther. To the parking lots of the restaurants and souvenir shops. Now, back in the States they’d tow you if you parked somewhere without being a patron, but again, I figured I needed to just go with it. We got out of the car and began our trek. Lots of people were on the path. Mr. Nam explained Katbawi was a very famous spot. Many people trekked there to pray to the Buddha atop the mountain. “Kat” translates to “traditional Korean hat” and “bawi” to stone. The Buddha is wearing a flat stone hat. It is believed that people who reach the Buddha will have one wish granted.

We had hiked for maybe 20 minutes when we reached a small temple. We walked around, looking at this building, that pagoda, drank some spring water, then continued. We passed a sign that read “Katbawi – 900 meters.” Wow. That was quick. Or so I thought. The last 900 meters was all uneven stone steps. Have you ever tried to climb a kilometer? It’s hard.

I knew we were nearing the Buddha when all of a sudden, out of nowhere, vendors appeared. Coffee, Buddhist bracelets, back scratchers, candies, sodas. Mr. Nam stopped to buy some candy. He said it was pumpkin candy, but I’m not sure. All I know is that the vendor had to use a hammer to coax the knife through the block of sweetness, as a sculptor uses a hammer and chisel to create his masterpiece. And I’m supposed to eat this? I put a piece in my mouth and it immediately stuck to my teeth, without me even chewing. I let it sit there, gently sucking on it, figuring eventually I would be able to chew it.

We reached the summit. Wow. Not what I expected. A stone plaza, with a hundred or so prayer mats closely arranged. Almost every one occupied by someone praying, arms out, together, kneel, arms down, hands opened, back up again. Metal pipes creating a sort of scaffolding. A food stand. A cart with incense burning. But where was Buddha? Mr. Nam told me to follow him. We walked behind the people praying and there was Buddha. Nestled into the rocks. I started to take a picture, but couldn’t get one without the scaffolding in the way. Mr. Nam grabbed my arm and led me in front of the people praying. I tried to resist. I don’t think it’s proper to stand between someone praying and what they’re praying to. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” I quickly snapped a couple of photos and scurried off to the side. The pumpkin candy was finally soft enough to chew. Mr. Nam, what is all the scaffolding for? “I told you, Buddha’s birthday.” I gave him a blank look. “For lanterns. Everywhere – lanterns. For Buddha’s birthday.”

We started down the path on the other side of Buddha. There was a sign, in both Korean and English, explaining the history of this Buddha. Mr. Nam turned to me, “I wrote this. English. Just for you.” I laughed. We descended many steps, to a small temple. “We eat lunch-che, here.” We took off our shoes and entered a long dining hall. Mr. Nam and I sat at the narrow, low tables; Mr. Koo and Mr. Kim stood in line for our lunch. They returned with two trays. A bowl of rice and a bowl of soup for everyone. And two small dishes of “mu” – the tart pickled turnip that I love so much. I began to eat the soup. I had eaten a couple of bites of rice when Mr. Nam said, “If you don’t like, you leave.” No, I like it very much. I looked around. The men were already finished. I hastily finished my meal, then picked up a piece of mu to eat. I had just put it into my mouth as Mr. Nam started to say something. I bit into it. Ugh! It was like eating a cube of salt. Mr. Nam said, “I think not good.” Yes, I think you’re right.

We began our hike again. We continued along a different path, one on which we were the only hikers. The path narrowed until I could barely fit my boots on it. I grabbed onto trees, trying to keep from sliding down the mountain. I looked up. Mr. Nam was disappearing over huge boulders. For 30 minutes I oscillated between hating being on such a treacherous trail and marvelling at the beautiful sights. Green. So much green. Sprigs of new grass. Fresh leaves on the trees. Buds of flowers just opening. A blossom here, a stream there.

Every now and then we would stop and look at the view. At one point we could see Daegu in the distance. At another we could see ranges and ranges of rolling green mountains. So different from when I visited just last month. Then, bare and gray. Now, every shade of green imaginable, light, medium, dark. I stared in awe. We continued. We reached a clearing. Mr. Nam explained it was for “119” emergency helicopter landings, in case a hiker had an accident while climbing. “Mr. Kim called 119 for you.” I looked at him quizzically. “Helicopter take you NC to visit parents.” And we laughed.

We were hiking along at quite the clip when Mr. Kim disappeared off the trail. Mr. Nam called to me. “This way.” But, where are we going? This doesn’t look like the trail. “Bett-a trail. To Dong-hwa-sa.” Mr. Kim hikes like he drives, so he and Mr. Koo were out of sight in no time. Mr. Nam and I continued along the makeshift trail, stopping to identify flowers, look at trees. We had been hiking for about 3 hours when the trail divided into three separate trails. He looked at me, I looked at him and shrugged my shoulders. We tried one trail. After going a few feet Mr. Nam stopped and said, “Maybe this not right. Maybe we try another.” We turned around and tried another trail. Soon we could see Dong-hwa-sa temple, we were approaching it from behind. As we got closer, Mr. Nam turned around to me, crouched low, and said, “Be vel-ly quiet…” Immediately, “We’re hunting wabbits…” ran through my head. I giggled to myself and tiptoed along the path. We arrived to the gated area where the monks study. A big sign hung on the gate. What’s that say, Mr. Nam? “Keep out.” Oh. “Maybe we’ll go this way.” I followed him.

We wound around, farther away from the temple. He started mentioning his favorite songs, Smoke On The Water, Hotel California, and Steps to the Sky. What? I’m not familiar with that last one. He started to hum. Oh, Stairway To Heaven. “Yes-sa! Yes-sa! So good.” We came to a stream. It appeared we were at the end of our path, but not yet to our destination. We looked around. We climbed over some rocks and saw the bridge near the temple. Look, Mr. Nam – we’re there! But when we looked closer we were met by spirals and spirals of barbed wire, preventing us from accessing the bridge. “Don’t go there.” Okay. I started to turn around then heard, “Rori – come this way,” and he was headed to the exact spot he just told me not to go to. I smiled.

We approached the bridge. He carefully moved one spiral of barbed wire, leaving just enough room for us to step on one of the bridge supports. We then clung to the stone bridge rails, walking along a large pipe, until we reached a spot to safely (?) climb over the railing. It felt strange, sneaking onto temple grounds. But, with Mr. Nam, anything is a possibility. We casually walked to the main hall and saw many people dressed in period dress. What are they doing? “Oh, traditional dance. Perform.” Everyday? “Maybe.” We walked a bit farther and saw camera crews. Mr. Nam laughed then said, “I called KBS and said you come Palgongsan. They ready interview you.” I giggled.

We eventually met up with the two others and returned to Mr. Nam’s car. From there we drove to Mr. Kim’s car. Ahhhh, it makes sense now. In the car, Mr. Nam calculated we had hiked 12 kilometers. “Next time, 18 kilometers.” Okay. Sounds good. The men laughed like crazy. I thought they were serious. I guess it was yet another joke.

We reached Mr. Kim’s car. Mr. Nam turned off his engine. “Pancake?” Oh, yes! One of my favorite dishes here, pa-jeon. A thin egg and flour pancake usually with lots of green onions, carrots and squid in it. Delicious! We entered the restaurant, took off our shoes and sat down. Within moments the pa-jeon and a platter of tofu and spicy parsley had arrived. I savored each bite, ohhhh, so good. I made a mental note to find out how to make this from one of the moms.

After our snack we got in the cars to go home. “I think, I think, you look sleepy. Rest, Rori.” The perfect end to a perfect day.