Travels in the Demilitarized Zone, 3
Note: This is a longer entry than usual, because visiting the DMZ is a pretty intense experience. I've split it into three pages. Links leading to the next page are at the bottom of each page. This is the last page.
We were only allowed a few minutes in the barracks; another tour group was waiting, so we were herded back onto the bus and headed to the UN observation post. The post is close to the empty North Korean model village that the South refers to as "Propaganda Village." "But what do they call it?" a guy on our tour asked. "I mean, they're not gonna call it Propaganda Village." The town on the South side, which is inhabited, is referred to as "Freedom Village," "freedom" being easily the most overused word in the DMZ. The guide, who seemed somewhat surprised by the question, said that it was called Guijong-dong, but, he said, he wasn't sure if the name was intended to mean something.
Through the hazy air you could see the North Korean flag atop an enormous flagpole, flying over the ghost village. Several years ago, South Korea built a 100 meter tall flagpole on their side of the border. A year later, North Korea, in a laden game of one-upsmanship, built a 160 meter tall flagpole, said to be the tallest in the world.
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In spite of the haze, you can still make out the big flagpole in the middle of the picture. |
In the fields nearby, on the North side, a few people were working, cultivating rice. With the binoculars I could see them. wearing colorful clothes, bending down, walking, working. They didn't look exceptional, but they must have been to be working that close to the DMZ. "They are only allowed to go in groups. They do not have the freedom to be in those fields individually," our guide explained. One of the guys in our tour group, a different one this time, piped up. "We're only allowed to come here in groups too. I can't move around individually..." Our guide wasn't quite sure how to respond; he seemed to be looking for a party line to toe. Earlier, he had talked about the poor working conditions of North Korean workers, specifically the fact that they only got vacations on Sundays. What he didn't mention was that this is par for the course in South Korea as well. Revealing - or even knowing - only half the information is a dangerous game, because in the end, no one trusts any of it.)
In the forest below the observation post, there was a rusty yellow sign marking the location of the Military Demarcation Line, the official name of the border. Further below, and to the left, was the site where in 1976, North Koreans attacked UN personnel with axes, leaving two US soldiers and four North Koreans dead. The UN personnel were trying to cut down a tree that obstructed their view of the border, but which stood on the North Korean side. This is the deadly absurdity of the place, that six men can be killed over a poplar tree.
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The blue house on the left is the guard post at the Bridge of No Return. Slightly in front of it, along the road, is the former location of the poplar tree for which six men were killed. |
The last stop, and the only one where we weren't allowed out of the bus, was the famous Bridge of No Return. Across this bridge, prisoners of war, refugees and spies were exchanged. Two South Korean soldiers stood on this side of the bridge, and we were reminded not to open our windows. The bridge was a nondescript grey thing, maybe wide enough for one car, hardly arched enough to be offset against the vegetation. The sort of place that you wouldn't notice anywhere else. Through the dirty grey glass of the bus, we took pictures, and then the bus took us out of the Demilitarized Zone and we headed back to Seoul, just thirty-five miles and a world away.
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The Bridge of No Return; taken from the bus window. |
June 19, 2002
Text and photos © 2002 Miriam Schacht. All rights reserved.