Three Baskets

My school decided I probably didn’t want to go on the their fieldtrip and gave me the three days off instead. I decided to head down South to a town called Daegu and a temple famed for the oldest extant Chinese version of the Buddhist canon.

Place of Interest: Sock Street. I kid you not.

Daegu is the 3^rd largest city in South Korea, but you can tell it’s running short of attractions when the tourist map lists Auto Parts Street as a ‘place of interest.’ In fact, the map listed many speciality streets as worth a look, so I strung a little walking tour together covering said Auto Parts, Printing Street, Sock Street and Sewing Machine Street. Auto Parts street reminded me of down town Kuilsriver, with two differences; Daegu had more stores specializing in multi-coloured LED systems and New Age Tunings (whatever that means) and the cars being tuned were not VW Golfs or Honda’s, but Hyundai’s and Daewoo’s. Sock Street lived up to its name and I did need a few pairs. But the main attractions in an otherwise dreary city are Seomun Market, Yangnyeongsi Market, and the Yasigolmok shopping district. Dating back to 1669, Seomun is one of Korea’s oldest markets and like Dongdaemun has been housed in several different buildings that hardly resemble a market from the outside, but has all the claustrophobic hustle and bustle inside to compete with the best. My favorite knockoff find: The Noble Face hiking gear with Nedtex technology.  Yasigolmok felt bigger than Myeongdong and I managed to get myself lost after dark. Unless you’re a serial shopper or bargain hunter extraordinaire, neither of the aforementioned is worth a four hour trip on the mugunghwa  – there’s nothing here you can’t find in Seoul.

The Noble Face - Hiking with character since 1963

The herbal medicine market is slightly more authentic with its own museum dedicated to ginseng (all in Korean). I strolled past a few shops, but didn’t feel free to take photos inside given how serious the practitioners took their trade: each store looked a bit like a psychologist-come-witchdoctor’s consultation room. There was a desk behind which the shopkeeper obviously consulted customers on their ailments and a coach for the infirm, then a plethora of remedies ranging from tied twigs to antelope horns. I asked a shopkeeper what exactly the horns were good for and how I’d ingest them. He presented me with a bag of thinly sliced horn(s) for 26 000W, told me to make a soup with it and that it was good for my bones. From bones to bones; makes sense.

I opted for a jjimjilbang for the night. After an extended sauna, hot-cold-jet-bath session I watched Korean reality TV with the old men and then found a random spot on the open floor for the night. The big communal area was just the right sleeping-without-blankets temperature and I was quite chuffed that my experiment with communal living was unfolding so well. At 01:00 however I was woken by an ignoramus slurping his ramen and watching TV at full volume. I moved to another room. At 04:00 I was woken again by violent snoring from some of my new neighbours. There would be no more sleeping. I surfed the internet until 05:00, dozed until 07:00, and had another morning washing session before making an early start.

Monk Spotting at Haeinsa

I headed out on the bus bound for Haeinsa, an hour from Daegu. Haeinsa, translated as ‘Temple of Reflection on a Smooth Sea,’ is similar in design to the other temples I’ve seen in Korea with understated styling and a turquoise and maroon colour scheme. What makes it exceptional is its seclusion and its role as repository for one of Buddhism’s greatest treasures; the Tripitaka Koreana. Thought to be the oldest Buddhist writings in Chinese characters, the Tripitaka is the entire Buddhist canon painstakingly carved on 81 258 double sided wooden blocks. The blocks were used as master copies from which the canon was printed onto hanji (traditional Korean paper) for dissemination throughout the Korean peninsula. Every block was treated for several years through a variety of methods to limit decay and warping before carving commenced. Since the mid 15^th century it’s been stored in the Janggyeong Panjeon, a set of four remarkable wooden buildings that protect it from deterioration through some pretty sophisticated techniques and a thorough understanding of the local geography and climate. The most distinguishing feature of the buildings are the differently sized wooden slats on all the walls which maintain the right levels of humidity, given the seasonal winds and the directions the walls face. For obvious reasons no tourists are allowed into the buildings but the slats are wide enough to get a good view. Unfortunately no photographs are allowed, but the old man that kept a watchful eye on where I pointed my camera also spoke some Afrikaans. “Goeie dag,” “Hoe gaan dit?” and “Dis lekker,” are probably the least expected sounds coming from an octogenarian Korean ajjusi at a secluded temple in the mountains.

The Tripitaka Koreana housed at Haeinsa -
Photo by malpuella (www.flickr.com)

What I enjoyed most about seeing the Tripitaka Koreana and the buildings it’s housed in is the simplicity of the design and the lack of stylistic affectations. There are no ornate gold linings or figurines lining the walls or blocks, no altars or incense, no intricate mosaic tiling, just row upon row of wooden blocks; an ancient wooden library carved one character a time. It’s functional without being austere. It's a physical manifestation of the contradictions that Buddhism is famous for: It’s both robust and ephemeral all at once. The rows of roughly hewn wooden shelves with their heavy load stood effortlessly and strong for centuries, unmoved by the elements or human interests, and yet the scene was so unimposing that the morning sun and the slightest stirring of the cool air moved between the shelves unimpeded. The more you stared at it through the slats the more it lulled you into a meditative state.

After the temple I headed to the little village up the road and was grabbed by an ajjuma who insisted I eat at her restaurant. Cooking from her own kitchen she made me the best yachae jeon I’ve had in Korea. I decided to head straight back to Seoul.