Huam-dong

Right now, I feel like RM — “I’m exhausted, I just wanna go home!” Today was a big day in a couple of ways; first, we visited the Demilitarized Zone, or DMZ and second, it marked our very last full day in South Korea.

We were picked up right on time from outside the hotel and driven to a larger coach which would then take us as close to North Korea as is humanely possible without basically becoming a victim of Kim Jong-un’s trigger-ready military. As we approached the DMZ area, there was a noticeable shift in the sky, becoming greyer with clouds hanging low. We were advised that South Korean military would board our bus to check our passports and minutes later, two young men in uniform appeared. They eyed each passport, glancing up from the photo to the face before moving on and then they were gone.

Since the number of tour buses are regulated, we had to arrive early to buy tickets. Two buses at a time can enter and right now, only 400 people a day. We waited for the ticket office to open, taking it in shifts to look around Imjingak park which was built in the ‘70’s as a reunification memorial for the people who had been separated from loved ones torn between North and South Korea. There’s a sadness that hangs in the air when you see the bronze statues of two women, sitting at a station who symbolize the women who were sacrificed as “comfort women” for soldiers, or the abandoned train riddled with bullet holes and left to rust.

We watched a short movie on the Korean War, telling of the secret tunnels that had been found under ground from North to South Korea, before donning hard hats to enter the third tunnel. It was a cold, steep decline with warnings given for folks with various ailments. I wanted to go but didn’t want to go at the same time, so decided to venture half way as a compromise. We ended up going almost all of the way in but once a sliver of panic set in, it was time to turn around. The climb back up was not for the faint-hearted, literally and figuratively and thankfully I made it to the top with breath to spare.

The Dora observatory was one of my favorite stops on the tour — from there, you can use the viewers to actually look across into North Korea. As luck would have it, some of the clouds had lifted and we could get a distant view of apartments, hills, little to no people anywhere and the tallest North Korean flagpole there ever could be. At some point, South Korea had installed a flagpole and, not to be outdone, North Korea installed a taller one. Through the looking glass, North Korea was greener, smaller and emptier than I’d imagined. We thought about the people that lived there and how they lived. We thought about the people who had escaped there and how they escaped. We thought about Kim Jung-Un.

A soldier hung around downstairs, indicating our time at the observatory was over; regulated because of the size of the road and the non- ability for tour buses to pass. Nia greeted the young bespectacled guy who readily responded and asked her where she was from. He fist-bumped her, saying “ah, Boston — very good, very good!” forcing a reminder that behind the uniform lies a regular kid practically, performing a duty he’s had since birth.

It was an exciting morning and an experience I’m so glad we were able to have! We were dropped off in the Hongdae heat and made our way back. The first order of the afternoon was Seoul Station food! Nia went back for what she says are the best dumplings she’s ever tasted and I had a sizzling Bulgogi hotpot which was out of this world and definitely comfort food. We ended the evening with magnificent shaved ice desserts and complained about how tired we both were. Exhausted, without question. And now, sadly it’s time to go home.Læs mere