Thursday, March 24, 2016

They Have Wood There




I’m on a mission for my little one to get wood.  No.  The firewood outside our house will not do.  Her group needs wood to build a birdhouse at a project tomorrow at school.  I mention that it would all be easier if we could go to a Home Depot.  I don’t know where to buy wood in Beijing.  No matter.  My daughter does.  “You know that little street next to the big street?”  After a time I recognize where it is she’s talking about.  “You think?”  “Totally baba.  They have wood there.” 

Driving around the neighborhood, I train my eyes to see if I can find any scraps wood off to the side of the road.  But while there is limitless construction and rampant dumping here in paradise, there are also far too many people biking about doing salvaging as well, turning trash into redeemed value.  I take the long way home past where it is my daughter said they might sell wood.  Sure enough, there are stacks of two-by-fours, inside the brick walled enclosure. 



U-turn, and then I pause to call before I go in.  “How much do you need?”  “OK, so it’s a bird house and its should be about a foot tall.”  “Are you supposed to assemble it at home?  We don’t have the tools honey.”  “We do it at school.”  “Oh.  Is everyone bringing in wood?”   “No.  Other people in my group are bringing in tools and stuff.”  “I see.”  

How much wood do you need for a birdhouse?  I head on in, hoping there isn’t a junkyard dog to contend with.  A guy my age begins to walk over.  “Hey there.  Can I ask how late you’re open?”  Before long I’ve discerned where in Henan he’s from and finagled a half a dozen scraps of wood that he is willing to let me part with.  I try to explain the school’s birdhouse project, but he’s not especially interested. 



I was feeling rather accomplished when I rushed back and presented my daughter with my hoard of timber.  She was thrilled.  Though I found out today when she came home that the wood had been dismissed by the shop teacher as “no good.” (Hey it was free, Jack) Fortunately, this gent seems to have had all the requisite wood necessary, there in the classroom.  Mine is not to question.  I delivered wood.  

The orno dwellings they ultimately put together were, in fact, beautiful and a bit more sturdy then my scrap wood would have afforded a sparrow.  


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