Sunday – No Wood, No Cry…

One of the things Ida wanted to do in Korea was look for a nice piece of carved wood furniture to take/ship home. When she sent me this request, I pondered for a moment. Hmmmmm. I don’t remember seeing lots of wood items, but let me do some research. And there, on the Daegu web site, under the “shopping” tab, was a whole page devoted to Korean woodcrafts. The pictures were beautiful. Wooden screens. Small tables. Large tables. Intricately carved chests. Boxes. And these words:

“The market share of wood artifacts produced in Daegu is about 70-80% of the nations, and their quality is guaranteed. The artifacts are made by hand from Chinese juniper wood. Wood blocks, beads and other Buddhist items, tea tables, telephone tables, vessels and other daily commodities, and various traditional service utensils are the main woodcrafts produced in Daegu Wood Artifacts Complex. About 70 woodcraft shops form a complex in the area of Bullo-dong and Bongmu-dong. Wood artifacts are sold here at an inexpensive price.”

Score! I sent Ida the link in an email, saying I had no idea Daegu produced so many of Korea’s wood artifacts (that should have been my first clue).

So on the Sunday after her arrival, we set out. I had my trusty map of Daegu city. There, near Palgong mountain, was the Wood Artifacts Complex. I knew exactly where it was! I was driving, with Sang Jae in the front and Ida in the back. We drove through town, farther and farther towards the outskirts, past the airport. I began driving more slowly. I knew we were approaching the area where the complex was supposed to be located, and I assumed there would be a brown sign, pointing the way. Or at least a sign. We drove, none of us saw anything. I think we’ve gone too far. We’re getting near the mountain. I pulled a u-turn (legally, of course). Sang Jae excitedly said, “Pull over! Turn! There!” I did my best Starsky and Hutch impression and pulled over on the shoulder. “Get out! Come on!” Ida and I looked at each other – neither of us had seen a wood complex. We followed him around the corner and back to the main road. He was walking towards a store. At the same time we saw what he was heading towards. A shop by the side of the road that sold pressed wood bookshelves. We both called for him to stop. “Furniture. You said you wanted furniture, right?” We tried to explain we wanted hand carved furniture, not furniture shipped in from China. He listened, then nodded. “Okay, I will ask.” He came back a few moments later. He knew the way.

We drove down a dirt road (I’m using the term liberally) for about a mile, scraping the bottom of the car every time we hit a bump. Or pothole. Or irrigation ditch. We finally turned to the right. Into what I guess could be called a parking lot. Maybe. A big dirt area where cars could park if they so chose. There was a man there, puffing on a pipe. As Sang Jae got out to ask if this was the wood complex, Ida turned to me. “You know he hasn’t left that porch in a hundred years.” We saw the critical look he gave Sang “City Slicker” Jae as he walked up. Then the quizzical look after Sang Jae asked about the wood complex. He scratched his chin, then looked to the hills. He shuffled his feet, then looked up and began to speak. We saw Sang Jae thank him and come back to the car. “Over there. In the hills. But not Sunday. Just wood boxes.” No! I saw the web page. It’s a whole complex. And they make tables. And screens. Okay, maybe they are closed on Sunday, but it’s a big deal. I know it. The web page said.

We returned to the main road, determined to give it another try. We ended up doing a few more u-turns, to no avail. We did discover the shooting range in Daegu (good to know where it is), a park where you can camp overnight, and various other rather useless shops. We finally gave up and decided to salvage the day and go to Palgongsan.

The mood in the car was a bit damp. We all felt defeated. Where was that wood market? It was on the web page. It was on the map. How could it just disappear?

We arrived to Palgongsan, parked the car, and started towards the gates. We arrived at the four creatures protecting the temple and I kept walking. Sang Jae yelled at me to stop. I turned around. The guard was coming after us. Surprised, I asked what was the matter. It turns out there is an admission to enter the temple. I didn’t realize this, because all of the previous times I visited had been with Mr. Nam where we had started hiking over on the other side of the mountain then worked our way down to the temple, bypassing the gates. Oops. We paid our admission fees, then walked along the peaceful road leading up to the temple complex.

There was a large tourist information table set out. When they saw me, they stopped me and started handing me pamphlet upon pamphlet, book upon book. Information about road signs, restaurants, where I could use my Visa card. Sang Jae asked about the Wood Artifacts Complex. We would not be defeated. “Oh, yes, I know exactly where that is.” You do? we all exclaimed. “Yes, very famous. It might be closed today, however.” From the map he drew, it appears we had just barely missed the turn. With a renewed sense of energy, we walked to the temple compound.

We peered into the halls, looking at this at that. We walked through the peaceful grounds, venturing over a quiet bridge to view the biggest Buddha in Korea, devoted to the reunification of the two Koreas. We snapped photos, then headed back to the car. We were very excited about stopping at the Wood Artifacts Complex. Even if it was closed, we would know the exact directions so Ida and I could return if it looked worthwhile.

We drove back down the mountain, holding the hand-drawn map as if it were gold. We passed the landmarks. The bridge. The median. Okay, do a u-turn there. Yes, that road. Okay, let’s stop and make sure we’re going the right way. We stopped at an ice cream stand. Yes, that way, they pointed. The excitement grew and grew. We kept going. The road got smaller, then smaller. Are you sure we’re still going the right way? I don’t see anything but houses back here. We were in the country. Coun-try.

Sang Jae stopped the car. A porchful of ancient men was across from us. He ran across the road, asked the question, got many nods, some pointing, some scratching of heads. Ida commented, “And you know they haven’t been off that porch for *two* hundred years.”

Sang Jae got back in the car. We drove some more, then turned down what appeared to be a dirt alley. Then through what seemed to be an irrigation ditch. And under a tunnel. The whole time I was thinking to myself, We should have left a trail. Breadcrumbs. Kim chi. Something. Then, lo and behold, out of nowhere, appeared the Wood Artifacts Complex. Except the person who so designated it as such must have been on some serious hallucinogenic drugs. It was a series of shacks. Yes, shacks. And I’m using that word with great generosity. Closed. Not for the day. Forever. All but boarded up and left for gone. We peeked in the dusty windows. The wood “artifacts” that had been being made upon the closure could hardly be described as anything more than tacky tourist knick knacks. Boxes. Coat pegs. No furniture. Nothing even remotely Oriental looking. No one said anything. We walked around for a bit, then got back in the car silently.

Finally, Sang Jae spoke. “Let’s call it a day.” Truer words never spoken.